Sorry Becks, I didn’t clock the custom-made boots.

I gave up watching the Man United game straight after half-time when Wayne Rooney slotted home his second goal.

So I missed the ceremony of the David Beckham farewell tour.

Not that I didn’t see plenty of the great man beforehand. Even sitting on the bench doing very little he was treated with the same reverence on TV as a watching member of the royal family.

This was football coverage, GMTV-style; celebrity-obsessed for those who would rather read Heat magazine than Fourfourtwo.

ITV weren’t going to let the little matter of Beckham not actually playing in the game affect their non-stop homage to the man. It was like an ‘Audience with …’ – although Old Trafford’s audience had to do without until the last knockings of a dead contest.

By the time Beckham made his triumphal cameo, I was glued to the comic spectacle of Real Madrid blowing up in the second round of the Champions’ League for the sixth year running.

Clearly £240million doesn’t get you much these days. Not even a quarter-final spot.

Real president Florentino Perez spent that unreal sum last summer – and for what?

No doubt he will do the same again once this season is over, not to mention appointing an 11th different manager in seven years.

As Lyon celebrated the final whistle, Cristiano Ronaldo had the distressed air of someone who had broken his mirror.

Nights like this weren’t in the brochure of his mega-move to Spain.

Like Beckham, he headed for the Bernabeu for a new adventure after growing tired of winning everything in Manchester.

Like Beckham, he will once again be watching the Champions’ League final on TV.

Like Beckham, he will probably witness his old club playing in that showpiece game. And wondering why he walked away.