I HAD the pleasure of witnessing Middlesbrough's triumph over Sunderland on Tuesday night from the comfort of a hospitality box. My third age as a football follower and confirmation of the remarkable transition the game has undergone over the past 40 years.

I remember my father taking me as a boy to watch Middlesbrough and Sunderland - depending on who was playing at home that weekend. Players like Dickie Rooks, John Hickton and Charley Hurley were my heroes and I well remember travelling up to St James Park for a night match when I stood wearing my Boro scarf amongst Newcastle fans without any hint of trouble.

The 1970s and early 1980s were a completely different kettle of fish. I have no idea why hooliganism suddenly became rife, but I do remember how policing games at Ayresome Park was like marshalling a war zone. We met the away fans at the train station and led them to the ground as bottles and bricks flew over our heads. Coach drivers basically got as near to the ground as they could before parking and hoping the windows would still be there after the game.

Once inside, there was little segregation bar a thin blue line of policemen who emerged from their night's labour with tunics drenched in spit. There was little organisation on the part of clubs or police in those days and the main tactic seemed to be to hold back the Middlesbrough fans to give the away fans enough of a head start to make it to the station before a baying mob caught up with them.

When things got really bad we would split the fans by lining up across the centre of the road, arms stretched out and brace ourselves for the charge. We didn't have stab-proof vests or CS spray, but a good tip when facing the charge of the hooligans was to shove your truncheon up the arm of your tunic and let the ringleaders run into our outstretched arms.

A police horse leaving manure up and down the street added to the obstacles and this, plus snarling dogs, usually gave the away fans enough time to make good their escape.

Nowadays, lawyers would have a field day with such tactics. The hooligans would sue for assault, whilst some police officers would demand early retirement due to stress. But back then it was accepted as part and parcel of a night out at the match.

I have rarely visited a football match since those days and Tuesday night was the first time I have seen a game at the Riverside. The change was obvious when the tickets arrived. For a start, wives were invited and I was told to wear a suit and tie.

Sponsors who wouldn't have touched football in the 1970s are now desperate to be associated with the beautiful game and the excellent facilities encourage families to attend. Sharing our box were the chief executive and leader of Sunderland Council, who showed remarkable restraint in the face of severe provocation from those of us supporting the Boro.

Had they placed a truncheon up their arm and whacked me with it, I would have had no complaints. Those who say the passion has been taken out of the game are wrong - all Boro have to do is make sure they win 3-0 every week!