And an own goal Lee Dixon scored in 1991.

David Seaman Presents Goalkeeping Nightmares

I was blaming myself as I drove the boys home that evening, wondering if I could have got a glove to that ball. So it came as a relief when I heard the snap of a ring pull behind me, and Lee Dixon shuffled to the front of the coach.

“I put you in an embarrassing position today Dave,” he said, taking a sip of Fanta and offering me a chip and a crispy chicken nugget.

I felt his pain as if it was my own. Who hasn’t kicked too hard in the wrong direction. A pundit on the radio was saying, “So much of sport is in the head, in the brain.”

I suggested Lee take a look through my collection of cassette singles. He searched through purposefully, querying some of the more obscure titles, eventually selecting Blondie’s 1980 hit, Atomic. Lee seemed keen to discuss the innovative instrumental breaks, but when he absentmindedly sang along to the chorus, I knew it was his way of saying sorry.

Oh, your hair is beautiful.

I took a detour so that Lee could talk. We discussed the traffic around Finsbury Park, our respective holiday plans, and Lee’s interest in the historical reenactment of famous battles. Anything but football, and the moments you can’t take back. I was confident he was feeling better when, as we pulled up outside his house, he suddenly recalled a recent team trip to SeaWorld, and became almost giddy describing the seahorse tank. “Next week Dave,” he said, looking me in the eye for the first time since he secured his place in my video, David Seaman Presents Goalkeeping Nightmares, “I’ll make it right. I’ll make it magnificent.”

I had one more stop to make that night. A lean mass of limbs was brooding at the back of the coach. I had been worrying about him lately, so it came as a relief when I heard the snap of a ring pull and Tony Adams shuffled into the seat beside me, clutching a can of shandy. He flicked chaotically through the radio stations, pausing occasionally to stare out of the window, like a telescope fixed on some vast uninhabited ice plain, the full length of which can only be seen from space.