When my leg was broken in an horrific tackle by Lucas Neill in September 2003, my mates were ready to hunt him down if I gave the go-ahead.

A few weeks later I received a phone call. "You won't believe this, Jay. We're in the Trafford Centre and Lucas Neill is walking straight towards us. What do you reckon?"

Did I really want Neill to take a crack? "There's only one problem," added the voice. "Little Davey Thommo is with him."

That was that. I could hardly let one of my best mates, David Thompson, now a Blackburn player, become a witness to an assault. Besides he'd have recognised the attackers. The impromptu mission was aborted and I sent a text to Thommo telling him Neill should give him a hug of thanks.

As word got back to Blackburn about the near miss, or should that be hit, their coach Terry Darracott, a Scouser, appealed to one of my friends to call the boys off. I agreed.

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