THE last time I was at Headingley it was to see the great West Indian all-rounder Sir Garfield Sobers smash an England attack for 174.
Forty-two years later I was looking forward to returning to the famous ground to see Kevin Pietersen's England take on South Africa in the first one-day international.
The first striking thing for those who can recall the early days of Geoff Boycott and Colin Cowdrey is the extent to which the ground has been transformed in the intervening years.
Courtesy of the Royal Bank of Scotland I was fortunate enough to start the day with coffee and cakes in the wonderful new Carnegie building's Lewis Jones suite.
Battleground
It was a long, waitered way from the old Dot's bar I remember visiting under the stand which now houses the media centre.
The cricketing battleground outside looked much the same as it did during my last visit in the summer of 1966, but there the comparisons ended.
Drinking in those far-off days when Yorkshire cricket was king was inhibited by having to get into one of the bars at the break, get to the front of the queue and get away with the odd pint.
Today a constant stream of watchers funnel backwards and forwards, often not even restricted by play in progress, carrying specially-made carriers packed with pints.
It struck me that drinking is a non-stop conveyor belt and nowhere more so than in the West Stand, where fancy dress and bad behaviour seem to be two of the qualifications to attend.
As the Petersen-Flintoff stand swung the day in England's favour, the West Stand sang redundant football songs, chanted relentlessly and indulged their apparent boredom with constant Mexican waves.
Television somehow filters out much of this loud, drunken distraction but it was nothing short of a miracle that the men in the middle managed to retain their concentration.
As the game wore on, the behaviour got worse until stewards and police waded into various western parts of the ground to sort out the more violent and vociferous.
Finally the organisers' patience snapped and an announcement was made at the height of the game that the bars on the western side of the ground would be closed until the behaviour improved.
It's true to say that behaviour is better at other points of the compass inside Headingley, but it's clear that too much alcohol is common to all parts of the stadium.
It struck me that this is the main reason many people are there; for the drinking, rather than the cricket.
In the sixties and early seventies I was a frequent pilgrim to that other Leeds place of sporting dreams, Elland Road.
Rival fans
There used to be trouble in those days between rival fans, but I reckon very few of them had as much to drink as their modern counterparts at Headingley.
The cause of the trouble which is now putting Headingley in the spotlight is quite clear – the massive amounts of drink taken, and of course the massive profits this makes for those selling it.
A drink and its availability is a must at a day-long event like England's fine victory over South Africa.
But there is no apparent limit or control on when and how much anyone can drink, as for instance there would be in a bar.
I saw a great victory with good company, but the day was spoilt for me by the obvious determination of large parts of the ground to become very drunk, ignore the cricket and get objectionable as quickly as possible.
If Headingley is going to emerge as a home to fine cricket, great teams and wonderful games then it seems to me that some control needs to be taken of these young people and the gallons of beer they pour down their necks.
Unless that happens I won't be planning a return to this famous old ground any time soon.