It was my first time back at Ashton Gate last night, but not for City. Instead, England were playing an Under 21 friendly against Romania.

There were a few names you might recognise. Matt Derbyshire of Blackburn and Gabriel Agbonlahor of Villa were playing, but all our eyes were on young Theo Walcott.

I went with my mate Dave and his wife and son. We weren't in our usual seats, but were higher up in the same block. I spent the first five minutes wondering why all the players were so short before it dawned on me they were just further away. Apparently they're sending me to another parish on an island just off the coast of Donegal.

There were several obvious differences from a City game. There were more people than usual, and a lot more women. Half the fans didn't know how to find their seats. I've just re-read that, and no I'm not implying a connection. The clueless people around us were all male. The hoardings were advertising national products rather than local garages, and the scoreboard didn't work.

Now I've mentioned the scoreboard you're probably imagining some high definition LCD technical wonder, but that's just the posh clubs. Ours looks like the digital display on your radio alarm clock, but last night it couldn't even have managed the time. It flashed briefly into life in the second half, conveying the information that Englan0 were drawing d-d with Roman#, but then relapsed into the message kkkkkkk. Every instance of k was the correct spelling of the letter k, but the information content was low, and in the end they switched it off.

Walcott though was operating within acceptable parameters. Research has shown that the T Rex would have been able to outrun a footballer, but he'd never have got the ball off Walcott short of eating his head. The standard of play generally was light years beyond anything we're used to seeing.

England went ahead early through Derbyshire, but Rumania equalised after 36 minutes. They got a questionable free kick, which bounced back off the post and in off the keeper. England dominated the game, but couldn't find the winner.

Which really didn't matter. Because nothing depended on the result, it was only the entertainment level that mattered. It was a rare insight into the world of non-partisan football, and I had a great time. Thanks Dave for sorting out tickets and reminding me it was on. The senior moments flow thick and fast these days.