Mat Kendrick's greatest ever Aston Villa player

Admittedly, my competition entry featured for only a millisecond and, knowing my artistic skills, the rather basic portrait probably depicted Platt with an out-of-proportion head and bloated body (in fact, imagine a modern day Platt rather than an early 90s version - only joking, Dave!).

But to a young boy completely wowed by the attacking midfielder's amazing impact at Villa it was a moment to treasure nonetheless.

Forget Pavarotti, Gazza's tears and Roger Milla's hips, Platt was the star of Italia 90 for that volley against Belgium.

When England were eliminated on penalties in the dramatic semi-final against Germany, I will now admit, for the first time, that I shed a tear for Platty, who converted his spot-kick in the shoot-out.

I remember listening to the commentary on a portable radio in a tent at a school camping trip at Bracelands in Gloucestershire and it hurt more than when my girlfriend of one day (who shall remain nameless, Samantha Evitts) dumped me before kick off.

Now, there is a pocket of Villa fans who have a real downer on Platt for some rather forthright views, in his previous role as SkySports pundit, on the club's post Millennium place in football's food chain.

But I prefer to remember him for his free-scoring, box-to-box days, arriving as a £200,000 unknown from Crewe in 1988, notching 68 goals in 155 appearances, transforming Villa from Second Division strugglers to First Division runners-up before departing to Bari three and a half years later as Villa's then record £5.5 million sale.

There's a saying that you should never meet your heroes and I have never had the pleasure of Platt's company face to face.

It is a source of relief rather than regret, however, because the one dealing I had with my boyhood idol went better than can be expected.

Reporting on Villa for the Birmingham Mail is a wonderful privilege, but speaking to the stars of yesteryear is much more nerve-wracking than interviewing today's first-teamers.

So it was with an air of trepidation that, having acquired a phone number for Platt, I rang him at his holiday home in Sardinia a few years ago.

Fortunately, despite me disturbing his sunshine break, Platt was brilliant, a real top bloke.

He afforded me all the time in the world to talk about Villa past and present and, more importantly, keep the legend alive in this little boy's mind.

Forget the Blue Peter badge I won for painting my hero, it was nothing compared to the thrill of getting chatty with Platty.