Given the momentous event on the horizon, this week's column is given over to exclusive extracts from the soon to be published Secret Diary of an Ulster Rugby Supporter, aged 43 3/4. The author is David, a bank manager who lives on the North Down coast. He prides himself on being a great servant to his local club and up until a few years ago was still trundling out for the sixth XV. Now, however, he limits himself to a bit of coaching with the under-10s on the Saturday mornings when the golf course is closed. This is his story.

Friday December 11th 1998

Got a ticket through work for tonight's European Cup quarter-final against Toulouse. Wasn't too sure about going because I didn't fancy standing freezing at Ravenhill and watching our guys getting stuffed. But the rest of the boys from the club were going into town and had hired a coach, so I decided to give it a go. On the way to the ground, I was surprised how nice the houses were in this part of town. Wish I'd bought one before the ceasefires - would have made a nice little investment. Make a mental note to check the property prices tomorrow.

Became very nostalgic when I got inside Ravenhill. Haven't been back here since we lost that Schools Cup final back in 1973. It's not as cold as I thought it would be, but maybe that's because of the whiskey, brandy and Bailey's mixture someone's cooked up in hip flask. Meet a lot of boys I haven't seen since school. Make a mental note to remember their names - could be good for business.

We spend most of the first half in one of the hospitality tents. But when news filters through that we're actually leading at half-time, we decide to go to our seats for the second half. What an occasion. The lads did us all proud out there - especially David Humphreys. I've lost count of the number of times I've defended him in arguments with the boys down in the club on Saturday nights. All that rubbish about him not being able to tackle - he showed them right at the end. Make a mental note to learn the names of all the players - even the blow-ins from England - before the semi-final.

Monday December 14th 1998

I couldn't believe it when people at work today were actually talking about last Friday's game. Eamonn, the assistant manager and a former GAA player, made some wisecrack about how much better Ulster will be when they get the players from Cavan, Donegal and Monaghan on board. Ignore this cheap shot and tell him that Gaelic football must be the only game in the world where the ball is of only secondary importance. That shuts him up. Don't mention Rule 21 or anything like that, though - that would be going too far.

Friday December 25th 1998

Treat myself to a Christmas present of a long-sleeve Ulster replica shirt. Spent most of the morning practising set moves, without the ball, in front of the mirror while the kids played downstairs with their presents. Forced them out into the snow after lunch for a bit of kick-about and make a really good crunching tackle on our three-year-old when he fumbles a pass from his brother. I'm pleasantly surprised to see I haven't lost it yet. Might make another comeback in the New Year. Make a mental note to take more of an interest in teaching the children the basics of the game.

Friday January 8th 1999

We should be playing Stade Francais at Ravenhill tonight, but the French have moaned so much that the game has been switched to tomorrow afternoon. Decide we have no chance - especially with Humphreys up against Dominguez at out-half. In two minds whether to go or not.

Saturday January 9th 1999

Decide it would be a terrible waste of that free ticket from work not to go, so it's on to the coach at 10 a.m. The boys have organised a pub crawl around some of the old university pubs and all the pleasant memories come flooding back. The bouncers in the last place raise a wry smile as we relive our youth with a `Drinking Your Pint Backwards Fastest' competition. Feel a little sick afterwards. Make a mental note that I might be getting a bit old for this.

Arrive at the ground 10 minutes late and by the time we finished our hospitality lunch it was nearly half-time. Some people make a lot of unnecessary fuss as we squeeze past them to get to our seats. Spot David Trimble and Ken Maginnis just in front of us and am secretly pleased to be sitting with all the important people.

We start well, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time before the French get on top. At half-time we're still leading, so we go for a celebratory pint in the beer tent. Arrive back late and the same killjoys complain again that we're spoiling the game for them. But we're just in time for Humphreys' try. What a score! The man's a genius. Why he isn't automatic first choice for Ireland is beyond me. Tell the boys it's now a matter of how much we win by. Suggest that Humphreys is playing so well that he should be captain. One of the boys tells me he already is.

At the end of the game I dig my mobile out of my sheepskin jacket to book 27 rooms for the final at a hotel in Dublin. Then it's back to the beer tent. Miss the coach back to the clubhouse. Roll up in a taxi a few hours later to find I've missed the celebratory, men-only dinner. Get a bit emotional with the rest of the boys about that Schools Cup final. Why does everyone keep harping back to that missed tackle?

Monday January 11th 1999

Totally disgusted to find out there won't be any free tickets for the final, so I have to take the morning off work and go up to Ravenhill to queue with everyone else. Meet a lot of business contacts I haven't seen in ages while we're waiting. Make a mental note to update my Christmas card list for next year.

Friday January 15th 1999

Ticket hype has reached fever pitch. Eamonn says he's amazed there's a public sale of tickets at all because it doesn't happen like that in the GAA. He's lucky, though, his brother is the secretary of the their local club. He promises me an All-Ireland Final ticket if I can fix him up for Lansdowne Road. Doesn't seem like a fair swap to me, but I don't tell him this.

Monday January 25th 1999

My envelope from the Ulster Branch arrives. There's only one terrace ticket inside, instead of the 55 seats I applied for, but I'm not too disappointed. David Humphreys comes into the bank in the afternoon. I tell him he's the best out-half I've ever seen. Roll on Saturday.