To my astonishment, he told me he hadn't watched a game of football for six years. This from a man who lived and breathed football when I knew him.
For many reasons, the money, the entitled attitudes of players, agents, Sky and BT, being a few, he'd simply fallen out of love with the game, and was a happier man without it.
I later gave it some thought, but came to the conclusion that, for all its problems and annoyances, football will remain a major part of my life until the grim reaper comes calling.
Would my weekend moods be improved without the Wanderers? Possibly. But I've got a football monkey on my back, and a seemingly endless supply of bananas.
Could you walk away?