Long-time readers of this rubbish will know that I have two missions in my life:
1. Complete the Airfix 1:72 model of a Russian Mi-24 Hind helicopter that I started 30 years ago, currently in a biscuit tin under my bed. I swear I'll get around to it some time. If not, I'll leave it to my kids in my will, with the warning I'll come back and haunt them if they get gluey finger-prints all over the windscreen.
2. Complete my Panini Football 78 sticker album, which has been stalled eight card short of a full set for the best part of 34 years. A small fortune spent on stickers at 5p a go, those were the days, the excitement of a gold'un, the haggling over a swap deal. And our parents said they were a waste of money. They were probably right.
Thanks to the intervention of the electrical internets, a wild foray through online tat market eBay has turned up six of the missing eight, leaving me just Gerry Gow (Bristol City) and Frank Clark (Nottingham Forest) short of a full set.
The lack of this pair leaves me with no other alternative than to track Gerry Gow and Frank Clark down in real-life, force them to wear their club's 1978 colours, take a photo and have it printed off onto a small square of sticky paper.
As current chairman of Nottingham Forest, I more-or less know where Clark will be on a match day, and a trail of tasty hors d'ouevres leading into the club museum will be all I need to get him and a 1978 shirt in the same place.
But cult hero Gow is a completely different kettle of fish, and I missed my chance at his much-deserved benefit match earlier this year. It turns out he's lived in Dorset all the time I was there, not many miles from where I lived. I've been in the Tesco where he works. I've probably even met him...
Only one thing for it.... Time to get the fright wig and false tache out. I SHALL BE GERRY GOW MYSELF.
And people say I'm a Gow and a Clark short of a full set.
UPDATE: Frank Clark is in the bag. It is just me and Gerry Gow. Mano a Mano.