On Saturday, I travelled to Sixfields to see my boys take on the Cobblers of Northampton.

I have to admit, I ignored police advice and snook into the away end.

My Special Friend had expressed some concern that I might, in the words of that charming terrace chant, be coming home in a ******* ambulance and had issued me with strict instructions to behave.

So when Leeds took the lead I stayed in my seat and allowed myself only a smile on the inside. When the Cobblers equalised I was on my feet – I had to be, as a goalmouth scramble meant everyone was up before the ball crossed the line.

So how was I able to contain myself? Cowardice? That certainly played a part. I've not been smacked in the mouth since the playground and I'd like to keep it that way.

But the main reason was respect – and that's respect for the Northampton fans.

I realise this is an alien concept to most people in an industry where the players spend 90 minutes trying to cheat fellow professionals at every turn and where the administrators have such contempt for the fans they want to play games on the other side of world.

The truth is, I knew I was being a bit naughty going in the home end, and the least I could do was show some self-control.

Sadly, there was a handful of my fellow Whites (neanderthal branch) for whom self-control is a contradiction in terms. Some of them trashed a pub in Northampton, and some caused trouble at the game.Football is a passionate game, but using passion as an excuse for thuggery is pathetic.

Once when Leeds played Man United at Elland Road I ended up sitting next to an away fan... in the Leeds end. A friend of a friend, I'd met him for the first time in the pub an hour earlier.

The game ended in a tame 0-0 draw and his cover wasn't blown.

If it had, he'd have been torn limb from limb. That's not support, that's not passion, that's just criminal.

Tat's taking it too far

I struggle to understand why people go in for expensive cosmetic surgery or painful and permanent tattoos in a bid to improve on what their parents' genes came up with.

I wonder what so-called beautiful people Posh and Becks will look like in the shower when they're old. Half of his tattoos will have disappeared in rolls of wrinkly flesh, while she'll be frail and wizened with, if the papers have got it right, her fake boobs, sticking out like, er, two sore thumbs.

At least boob implants are reversible, unlike tats, which can cause problems later on.

Like Becks, Posh fan Craig Buckley is proud of his tattoos, but he was shocked at the news the club has got a new crest as he'd had the old one etched on his back.

I regretted having my tattoo done. It reads: My Special Friend. But, if I could just get rid of that 'r', I could live with it.

I'm sure when Peterborough City Council used "Big Brother'' powers to access phone records it followed all the correct procedures.