The Friday Spitter

I've found myself in some surreal situations in life but few compare to my experience in Porto last night. For the first (and probably last) time ever, I attended a European away match stone-cold sober and I have to say it was quite an eye-opener, no matter how prepared I thought I was.

We all know how these trips abroad unfold, so nothing you witness should really come as any surprise. And, in truth, no single incident was particularly remarkable in itself, it was just the sheer scale of the carnage that had me chuckling for most of the 90 minutes.

We've all seen drunkards standing on their plastic tip-up seat for a better vantage point when they can't even stay upright on the deck, and we've all giggled when the inevitable crash down to earth takes place. I've just never seen it happen 15 times within a 20-metre radius in the space of an hour. In most cases, food or drink was involved - indeed, in the eyes of one bloke who finished up horizontal, a troublesome hot dog was left in no uncertain terms that it was the culprit.

Meanwhile, given that I was situated right next to the Porto fans, I got a fair idea of what they made of it all, not to mention the glorious entertainment that passed off across the segregation throughout the course of the evening, most of it in very good jest I must add.

There was plenty of impromptu shirt-swapping with stewards acting as the go-between, sometimes followed by the Mancunian recipient smelling the armpits on his new article of memorabilia and screwing up his face in disgust. Meanwhile, others were trying to negotiate exchanges of a more dubious nature as one lad haggled with those across the mesh as he tried to sell his girlfriend to the locals who had clearly taken a shine to her.

Anyway, I'm pleased to report the 1,500 or so City fans were praised for their behaviour by the authorities afterwards with only one arrest made, which isn't bad going considering that I was evidently the only one in the visiting enclosure who hadn't taken my Superbock tally into double-figures.

Of course, you're probably wondering what kind of lunatic would contemplate going to such a game tee-total but, truth is, I made my own bed by overcooking it the night before. Having nipped out for a couple of cheeky ones, hoping to catch the second half of the Milan-Arsenal game, I bumped into a few old faces and got roped in. Naturally, a couple of pints turned into five or six with Port chasers, culture vulture that I am. The next day, of course, I had previews to write and let's just say it wasn't quite the breeze I was anticipating.

However, given my belief that everything happens for a reason, it was only this morning that the real reason for my matchday sobriety became clear because now the trip will be remembered only for one thing: my flight back to Valencia with none other than David Silva.

Just as our mercurial playmaker ghosts in behind opposition midfielders, so he turned up at the airport where you'd least expect him - at the back of the queue for a €22 Ryanair flight, with a couple of mates, looking very much an ordinary humble sort of guy, obviously making the most of a free weekend following City's early FA Cup exit.

And it's amazing what goes through your mind when you're suddenly thrust into a position whereby one of your biggest heroes is just a few feet away. The internal dialogue starts, one voice is screaming at you to say hello, while another is saying: "No, don't be stupid, you'll only make a dick of yourself."

Anyway, the inner voices continued to argue for the next 20 minutes or so and I'm not ashamed to say that all sense of maturity disappeared as I played a mental game of cat and mouse with the other passengers trying to secure a position that would maximise the possibility that Silva would have to sit next to me. Alas, it was all to no avail, but I'd highly recommend to Michael O'Leary that he implements a new sit-next-to-the-celebrity charge because I'd have been willing to fork out about ten times the cost of the flight!

As we taxied towards the runway, it suddenly dawned on me that I now had an extremely important responsibility. This moment wasn't supposed to be a photo opportunity or a shallow hello, it was a much higher calling. In my darker thoughts towards take-off, I realised that if the plane went down, our title aspirations could be left in tatters, so it was clearly my duty to devise an exit strategy with military precision that would keep our star-turn out of harm's way.

I took a quick look around and put my best orienteering skills into practice. I had to map out the dimensions of the cabin in my head. Now I was sat in seat 17C and David was in 19B, which was a little tricky. The four overwing exits were probably closer to where I was sat, but David was behind me and once I'd ventured in that direction to assist him, my best option was probably to continue on the path of least resistance.

However, my growing concern was an overweight woman five seats back in 21D. Getting stuck behind such a big unit could obviously cost us vital seconds, so I swiftly came to the conclusion that Dawn French would be getting punched if she tried to make the most of her three-row advantage. I also came to the decision that David would be allowed to deploy his lifejacket inside the cabin, if necessary, but it had to remain a strict no-no for everybody else.

Thankfully, the flight passed off without incident and I remained inconspicuous as I shadowed our man all the way back to the terminal building, eventually allowing him to head for the toilet in arrivals by himself. Sometimes you just have to let go...

So I didn't get an hour's one-to-one with my idol, I didn't get a photograph, I didn't even get a handshake. But I can rest peacefully tonight knowing that I did my job. Now that we've come through the turbulence that was Yaya Toure's African Nations campaign, it would be easy to get complacent. Instead, I've done my bit. Had something unforeseen happened on flight FR4594, I was ready.

Recommended bet:

• Draw/Birmingham double result at 22/1
• Blackpool to beat Everton 2-1 at 28/1
• Barnsley to win the first half 2-0 at 11/1
• Chesterfield to beat Sheff Wed 2-1 at 10/1