The guys in the white tee-shirts and tracky bottoms were a tad boisterous as we queued to board Flight ZB676 to Alicante at Manchester airport on Sunday. Not actually rowdy, but showing the sort of controlled over-enthusiasm one suspects might become over the top should anyone take exception to their behaviour.

I didn’t even look at the lads, who seemed to have decided to board after everyone else. After all, was well aware that certain elements of British manhood construe even the most innocent glance as an intention of aggression. Not that a middle-aged woman with an arthritic neck and steadily-declining vision and hearing would be likely for one second to put the boot in on 20-odd extremely fit-looking guys mind you.

I didn’t notice the boister boys again after that until well into the flight, apart from a few moments when one of them, a tall, swarthy guy with gleaming teeth and a highly-prominent nose, wandered through the plane checking where his pals were seated. Three of them were immediately behind me in Row 15, and I vaguely heard them talking about football -- hardly an unusual topic for a group of red-blooded men. While the gist of the conversation evaded me, I did overhear one of them mention John Arne Riise in a clearly Scouse accent, followed by stifled guffaws of laughter. I guessed they must be Everton fans taking the micky out of Liverpool’s 2-0 defeat at Bolton the previous day.

It was only when one of the tracky boys stood up in the aisle alongside Row 6 and turned to face my way that the penny dropped. Patriotically proud of the country of my upbringing, I instantly recognised the dark, sun-tanned face as that of former Wales captain Gary Speed.

I suddenly realised that this tee-shirt brigade were no mere mortals – it was the Bolton Wanderers squad heading for a break in the sun after spanking the Reds at the Reebok Stadium the previous day. Was this, I wondered, a special trip to celebrate the former Everton and Leeds star’s 750th appearance in league football – and the goal he scored to mark the occasion?

As I looked more carefully at the players’ faces, I couldn’t miss the bristly, dishevelled features of Ivan Campo, scorer of the other goal against Liverpool. There was something familiar about one or two of the other players, but for all their lofty position in table, the Bolton players are not exactly the Premiership’s most recognisable set of individuals. Not to someone who supports Cardiff City, anyway.

Now I suppose I could have got up and, being the curious individual that I am, asked the boys behind me where they were heading and why. But while that might be expected of any lucky Trotters fan who might have happened to be on the same plane, it was hardly the behaviour expected of a respectable lady en route to her holiday home in the southern Costa Blanca. Instead, I decided to listen more closely to the guys behind me for clues…but all Mrs Nosey Bitch managed to extract was a compliment about the in-flight chicken dinner and a comment that the small piece of cheese was tasty. At this point I gave up and went to sleep.

The two-and-a-half hour flight over and seat-belt signs turned off, I decided to take a surruptitious look at the chicken-and-cheese trio to see if I could identify any of them. The two young guys were complete strangers to me but in the aisle seat, seemingly dozing and disinterested, was the diminutive yet now mature figure of one of the heroes of my youth -- Sammy Lee.

Now assistant to Sam Allardyce – who was conspicuous by his absence -- the former Liverpool and England midfielder looked as enthusiastic about the trip as Big Sam was when he was asked for a 620th time if he’d ever taken a bung.

The last time I saw the Bolton entourage they were boarding a dark-blue coach boasting the name of a Benidorm company. Surely a team in second place in the Premiership would have chosen a more upmarket resort to relax, I thought.

But before any of us were aware that Manchester United’s win over Newcastle had pushed the Trotters into third, it struck me. There might be a two-week gap before their next game – a visit to that self-same Newcastle on October 15 -- but this break was to be no cup of rosy Lee.

It was going to be a working holiday. A case of play it again, Sam. And again and again.