I shouted: "Merry Christmas, John," from the press box to our skipper as he popped up from the tunnel and walked along the pitch side to get out to meet his adoring fans.
He turned, waved and said: "Cheers."
We had just won 4-0 against Norwich.
'There is a diamond geezer,' I thought - a new bud to add to my growing list of celebrity friends.
Half an hour later, and failing to get a Tube at Fulham Broadway - some sort of incident, I decided to walk home.
I stopped at the bus shelter opposite Lots Road, on the New Kings Road - it was starting to rain.
A cab with it's light on was passing slowly along with the traffic.
In a flash, some geezer came pelting down the road, hailed the cab down and jumped in.
Nothing strange there, but I think you know where this is going.
Ten seconds later another figure sprints down the road. He's wearing a short sleeved shirt - yeah, you guessed it, it's my best new mate John.
He jumps in the cab, the other guy I spy is Bridgy.
Now, foolish old hack that I am, I put out my thumb as if to hitch a lift, surely my new found bud status will ensure I get a trip home to Victoria with my friends - nothing of the sort.
John sees my thumbing and smiles as the cab roars off down the road.
I'm crestfallen - such fickle thing friendship, no matter how fleeting.
I decided that since no bus was on the way and I was skint, I would walk home.
There's no fairytale ending - It took me another 45 minutes and I was drenched.
Where were you off to JT and Bridgy?
If you know, let me know..