To borrow a line from rapper Tinie Tempah: ‘I’ve been to Southampton but I’ve never been to Scunthorpe’.

I’m still not sure if Tinie has ever ventured to north Lincolnshire, but last Saturday’s clash against the Iron was unsurprisingly not at the top of my to-do list for this season – and I feel absolutely no shame in saying so.

I also had the added excuse of attending my best friend’s stag do down in Bournemouth so you can’t begrudge me giving the game a miss.

And judging by the 0-0 scoreline, the decision was justified.

However, Millwall v Scunthorpe does evoke particularly strong feelings for me.

Firstly, the morning of the 2009 League One play-off final coincided with arguably the worst hangover I have ever experienced.

You know, the type of hangover where you’d rather be dead than have to perform basic motor skills like speech or movement.

The tube journey to Wembley Park lasted for what felt like days and my head thumped like a Palace fan hitting his favourite drum.

To this day I still don't know how I managed not to throw up over something or someone.

More poignantly, the game was played a few days after my mum’s funeral.

Having battled breast cancer for nearly three years, she actually passed away on the  May 2, 2009, exactly a week before our semi-final first-leg at home to Leeds.

I've always had a knack of recalling major events depending on where Millwall were playing that week - the day we brought home our eldest dog; Reading at home 2004; sister’s wedding; Sheffield Wednesday away 2012. You get the idea.

I’m reluctant to use an old cliché, but this game was genuinely a ‘rollercoaster of emotion.’

From witnessing ‘that’ goal from Gary Alexander, to being hit with two sucker-punches in the last knockings, I have not had many feelings of utter dejection like I did that day.

But in some ways, I was happy.

I was happy to be there to witness it.

After the heartache felt by our family, it was a relief to focus my mind on other things.

My mum was not a football fan, but she would often ask how we had got on when I arrived home.

I think she knew I was always going to attend the final that day and she wouldn’t have expected anything less.

During my time as a supporter, they have made me angry, made me despair and ruined many a weekend.

But Millwall has also been a place where hardships and personal turmoil can be forgotten about for 90 minutes.

It is more than just a football club to me. It’s not a matter of life and death – it’s much more important than that.