I know what it's like to be a footballer. OK, not really…
But I have managed to experience a little taste of what it is that players and managers go through every week. And I have been blasted by a fan on a football phone-in.
BBC Radio Norfolk's post-match 'Canary Call' is supposed to be an opportunity for Norwich fans to vent their spleen, collectively worry and every so often celebrate the life and times of Norwich City.
If the football phone-in was invented today it would probably be sold as an alternative medicine. It often feels like group therapy for those whose idea of a 'councillor' is someone who sits in a big office and decides what day your bins will be collected.
Neil Adams has become the shoulder to cry on for City fans most Saturday evenings after 5 o'clock. My role on a match day involves going off to gather reaction from Peter Grant and Co at the final whistle which means I usually miss out on hearing what's (or who has) got the BBC Radio Norfolk swicthboard flashing.
When I returned to the Press box after the defeat at Hull City, tape recorder in hand, I was greeted by a mischievous smile on the face of by commentary colleague. 'You got some stick on the phone-in!' Neil enlightened me.
So how did I manage to join the hordes of players, managers and refs who've felt both barrels from our Canary Callers? I'd upset Hull City fans, or to be precise, one Hull City fan.
This particular lady phoned up pretending to be a Norwich fan and when she was put through to Neil she took off the yellow and green mask and revealed her real reason for calling: putting Goreham in his place.
You see, back in May 2005 on that fateful Sunday when Norwich were about to kick-off at Craven Cottage in a bid for Premiership survival (Sorry to bring it up – just setting the scene…) I built up Fulham against the Canaries as 'the difference between playing Arsenal, Chelsea and Manchester United next season or going to places like Crewe, Plymouth and Hull City.'
How was I to know that a Tigers fan would be listening?
This supporter was angry that I'd lumped her team in with my implication of unfashionable opposition. In the 27 months since my comments we've now played Hull five times. Dean Windass' match-winning performance at the KC stadium this season was the first of those meetings the Canaries had lost.
The opportunity was too good for my Humberside critic to resist and she was straight on the phone to rub it in. Nearly two and half years of pent up anger at what I'd said at Craven Cottage was ready to be unleashed.
It's just a shame I wasn't in position to hear it…
But isn't it amazing how protective we can all be of our football teams? We're allowed to moan about them, criticise them or boo them off the park, but if a supporter of another club dares to show that sort of attitude they can expect to be put in their place.
I totally sympathise with our caller from Hull. One of the most interesting aspects of the job I do is being able to hear how a variety of other journalists perceive and describe Norwich City.
I probably shouldn't admit this, but barely a week goes by where I don't tutt or quietly mutter under my breath about something another reporter says about Norwich.
Numerous 'Let's be havin' yous…', cookery puns or country cousin style jibes get trotted out in Press boxes at football grounds every weekend.
I hate hearing them, but I've never built up the courage to confront another journalist about their use of the phrase 'recipe for success'. Most reporters are much bigger than me anyway.
Many football managers are highly critical of radio phone-ins, but I believe they do have a place. BBC Radio Norfolk's 'Canary Call' has built up quite a cult following and it's no wonder.
I know people who really aren't that interested in football, but love listening to post-match phone-ins on the radio.
In these days of media training, professional sound-bites and spin you don't hear that much no-holds barred passion anywhere in the media.
I can assure you from experience that little else gets an audience worked up enough to go to the trouble of phoning up a radio station to the extent that football does.
It often makes good radio, too. Producers, presenters and researchers up and down the country will spend days dreaming up programme ideas that they hope will lead to their listeners jamming the lines. The game of football is one of few things in life which does that job for you.
Something that I suspect won't surprise you is that the Canary Call switchboard is always a lot busier after a defeat than a victory.
There is also a perverse pleasure in listening to the pain of those who follow other teams. Perhaps it's comforting to know that there's always another set of fans worse off than yourself.
The trend isn't Norfolk-specific – if you ever listen to 606 on BBC 5 Live or any of the programmes of that ilk I dare say the percentage of those calling in to express concern or complain about their team's performance is up in the high 90s.
Most of our callers are bona fide Norwich fans wanting a good moan and not opposition supporters calling in to remind us of throw-away remarks from months before.
Next time you're watching Match of the Day and you feel like slagging off another team just remember: You're not allowed to. Their own fans are quite capable of doing that.
Neil Adams and the rest who provide a public service by listening to the concerns of others after five o'clock on a Saturday have become the modern and more PC equivalent of kicking the cat to take our your footballing frustrations.
Adams and Co. Soccer Samaritans: 'Sing when you're winning, ring when you're not…