Suddenly he was there: smartly if somewhat differently dressed, his height boosted by immense platform shoes: Elton ‘Hercules’ John had entered the Watford boardroom. After the telephone calls and my persuading a reluctant club chairman Jim Bonser to take a morning off from making money and come to the ground to meet a pop star, there was a new figure in the club’s inner sanctum.

We had been standing there cups of tea in hand talking to Vic Lewis, former band-leader and Elton’s European manager, who assured us Elton was on his way from Old Windsor.

Some months earlier, Vic had been given my number by a Hendon-based journalist and had phoned me to say Elton was interested in helping the club. He talked in terms of putting money in and becoming a director.

If I made any small contribution to the history of the club, I did so then, by suggesting they play down their boardroom ambitions and the financial proposals and perhaps settle for a £50-a-year vice presidency as a route to getting their feet under the table.

Bonser was extremely wary of anyone bearing gifts. He had seen off Leslie Wise, Denis Mortimer, Harold Hutchison, Neville Ovenden and other would-be take-over aspirants, while his own regime and the club stagnated.

Bonser still had his stubborn hands on the tiller and was not keen to relinquish his grip, like a captain going down with the ship. However, Bonser did not rate this posh-speaking young man, duly deferential and polite, as constituting a threat, as he admired Watford’s trophy cabinet, which contained a mishmash of pennants and cups, most of them relics from back in the days when the club pioneered floodlit football in the fifties, with a succession of games against foreign opposition.

Elton revealed he had stood on the Bend, the open corner between the Shrodells and Rookery stands noted for the terracing of clinker and railway ties. I had stood there for some years but had not noticed him, but then who would register the appearance of a 14-year-old when you fancied yourself as so mature at 17?

Elton stated that he would like to attend matches and support the club. Bonser suggested he would be welcome and might like to join the vice-president’s club at £50 a season, which bought you a stand seat and all the buns and tea you could consume at half time, along with access to a pay-bar.

Vic Lewis flicked me a quick smile; Ron Rollitt, the club secretary went off to collect the forms and passes and they were in; heavily disguised as quirky fans. In fairness, I had expected someone more flashy and less grounded but Elton proved to be an amenable, polite, unassuming individual, not at all pushy, as former director Muir Stratford recalls: “Elton fitted in very well as vice-president. He was not at all showbusinessy: very modest.”

After agreeing to become VPs, Vic Lewis dropped in an observation, as if the thought had suddenly struck: “Maybe we could give a concert here and raise some money for the club.”

Vic also suggested Denham-based Cilla Black and even Donovan might be interested. “He is more into mushrooms,” smiled Elton.

It all passed off very well and by that time the players had finished training, so there was the opportunity for a few dressing room photo shoots. Later Bonser asked me if I was satisfied, contending that he had thought my cover had been blown when he had turned into Occupation Road that morning and seen a horde of girls, only for Ron Rollitt to explain they were the women’s football team setting off for a tournament in Gibraltar.

It seems unbelievable in this era of social media, that Elton’s Vicarage Road visit and meeting the players that Friday morning, remained secret for little short of seven days, until I broke the story on the front page of the Watford Observer the following Friday.

The next day I was at Watford Junction when Elton joined Mike Keen and the players, heading north for the first of many away trips. Elton, his chauffeur/p.a., and I travelled up together in the train and, at the end of a long day, I went with Elton to pop into Watford FC Supporter’s Club, where he was introduced to groundsman Les Simmonds.

“Train delayed?” my wife asked me when I arrived home some two-and-a-half hours after my scheduled return.

“No, I got side-tracked, playing bar billiards with Elton John,” I volunteered casually. In the annals of marital excuse-making down the centuries, that was pretty special.

Elton performed the concert at Vicarage Road, raised over £25,000 for the club and he along with Vic became directors. “They didn’t give us as much as they said they would: not £30,000,” carped Bonser, but that was the manner of the man.

I cannot for a moment pretend I glimpsed a vision of the yellow-brick road that autumn of 1973 when he first came to Vicarage Road, but the kaleidoscope of memories started then.

Elton on the platform of Crewe station, saluting the train-load of chanting Watford fans on their football special, as they returned, otherwise depressed from the FA Cup defeat at the hands of non-league Northwich Victoria (76); the rock-star being accosted by a platoon of national pressmen at Rochdale after his year-old revelations about his private life surfaced in the papers that morning; or Elton going down and joining new manager Graham Taylor on the bench during an early-season Division Four match at Vicarage Road (77).

Elton dishing out Easter eggs in the family enclosure before a match in the top flight (83); him trudging through the snow from an Embassy reception in Prague during the memorable UEFA Cup run; his tears at the FA Cup Final, when his dreams were effectively realised, and my being invited over to Miami for an interview to mark his tenth year as chairman.

The man had dared to dream a dream, things we never entertained, even in our wildest flights of fancy: Watford finishing runners-up in the top flight, playing in Europe and reaching Wembley. Conservative estimates reckon it cost him around £4m, perhaps a tad more, because he bought the majority of shares in the special flotation, to fund the building of the Rous Stand, which has now, more appropriately, been named the Graham Taylor stand.

Now fittingly, he has had a stand named after him. Graham made the difference but, without Elton, none of it would have happened.

- Next week we take a look at Elton’s early days as chairman.