WELL, typical isn't it? After all these years of waiting, hoping and looking forward to the day when it actually happened ... this week it did.

And do you know, I wasn't impressed in the least. Not one little bit. In fact, I would go as far as to say I was left feeling completely disappointed by the whole thing.

Let down. Fed up. Shattered and deflated by the disillusion. Put simply, I feel cheated. All right?

I don't know what to do next.

I'm in that horrible limbo of a place where you don't know where to turn for the best. Like when your big brother tells you there's no Father Christmas and you want to believe there is. But was it, this big disappointment? This let down that has crippled my life and left me in tatters in one fell swoop?

Well, I'll tell you.

It's Robbie. Mr Williams. My hero. The one I looked up to. The one that made me feel 15 again. The one that reminded me I used to think Bros would one day meet me at the school gates and confess their undying love. Only this week, I did meet him. Or at least we were in the same room. I mean, OK, there were 20,000 other people there too that night but, hey! I thought our paths would cross at last and bang! Welcome to happily ever after my friend.

But, no, sorry, didn't quite happen that way I'm afraid.

And the problem, strangely enough, came from my side of the stage. You see, he just didn't live up to expectations. I don't know why. I don't know what I was expecting either.

Life may never be the same again.

He wandered on in a pair of combats and a casual jacket doing a swaggering, unintentional impression of Liam Gallagher and proceeded to sing his songs one after the other. Like, there you go. This is No Regrets. Now we'll do Angels. No costume changes, no sexy black leather outfit for Let Me Entertain You. Just Robbie, his band and about 10 fags in the space of an hour.

At one point he was singing Frank Sinatra's classic My Way in between puffs -- and that's not to mention the dodgy jokes and swearing that littered his act.

Now I don't mean to sound harsh, but, sorry, no. How about put some effort in mate? If you want to go all serious, concentrate on the music and ditch your young fans from the audience then OK, that's up to you.

But don't sing pop songs with Kylie Minogue and pose on the cover of Smash Hits one minute and swear at everyone the next.

And all right, we all like to sing along at concerts but sitting down while the crowd cover one of your biggest ever singles is a bit much. I mean, I can sing along to Angels on my CD at home if I want to -- and it wouldn't cost me £35.

It won't actually cost me anything at all in future though, 'cos that's it as far as I'm concerned. Me and Robbie are finished.

Just need to find a replacement now. Any ideas?