Back in the bad old days I would proffer, to anyone who'd listen, that the only way to rid Northern Ireland of sectarianism would be to introduce racism.
I thought such a profound remark would make me sound intellectual and sagacious.
Instead, it compounded the notion that this would-be philosopher was as thick as champ.
Of course racism would never eclipse sectarianism here; it would merely add an extra layer of bigotry to an already fractured, conflict-ridden society.
It's true, however, that racism wasn't particularly prevalent during the Troubles - presumably because this was a dangerous place even for white people.
Predictably, the precious few members of what is now known as the BAME demographic would be subjected to overt abuse and covert discrimination in schools and workplaces but, back then, we were more obsessed in killing people of a different religion, not colour.
Manifestation of the racism element, therefore, was mostly confined to sporadic, isolated incidents that lurked beneath the radar.
That all changed, however, on November 30, 1988 - and what became known, colloquially and euphemistically, as 'The Banana Match'.
That shameful night at a packed Oval stadium in east Belfast, Linfield players Antoine 'Tony' Coly and Abdeli 'Sam' Khammal were repeatedly subjected to torrents of banana skins and monkey chants by so-called Glentoran fans both before and throughout the game.
The idiotic laughter on the faces of these morons as the fruit rained onto the pitch, accompanied by that nauseating background noise, was unforgettably horrifying; the upshot of what was obviously a pre-ordained, co-ordinated plan.
Prior to that League Cup final between Belfast's Big Two, such incidents had been seemingly confined to English football; that same year brought the famous photograph of Liverpool's John Barnes back-heeling a banana skin off the Goodison Park pitch during the Merseyside derby.
Silky Senegalese midfielder Coly and Khammal, a Moroccan winger, had been signed on loan from Belgian side Club Brugge KV at the start of the season and the pair - regularly referred to by this newspaper and others as "Linfield's coloured players" - would ultimately help Roy Coyle's men wrest the Irish League title from Tommy Jackson's Glens.
They lost that damp November night, however, to a freak winning goal from Glentoran goalkeeper Alan Paterson - and that incident, not the vile abuse that preceded it, dominated the following morning's headlines.
It seems almost incredible, in this day and age, that such little import was attached to what was one of the worst incidents of racism the supposedly beautiful game had ever seen.
Even some 'ordinary' Glens supporters, while disgusted by what they'd witnessed - and who had presumably welcomed Alan Gracey, a locally-born black player, to the home dressing room a decade earlier - still attempted to mitigate it.
Taking to letters pages (no online forums or trolls back then), they pointed out, with classic Ulster 'whataboutery', that Linfield fans were no angels when it came to sectarian abuse of rival clubs' Catholic players. As if the two wrongs somehow made a right.
It's no thanks to the authorities of the time, but that incident was a watershed of sorts for the local game.
And, in general, things have changed significantly over the last three decades. Unfortunately, however, there are still copious transgressions to report.
Rangers player Glen Kamara, for instance, was subjected to what was described as "vile racist abuse" during the recent Europa League game with Slavia Prague at Ibrox.
His team-mate Alfredo Morelos, and Manchester United trio Marcus Rashford, Mason Greenwood and Fred, were also targets for despicable comments on social media.
Arsenal legend Thierry Henry quit social media last week in protest at the toxicity spewed by faceless online cowards and, presumably, there would have been many other instances of 'terrace' abuse reported had the grounds been full.
Glen Kamara's angry reaction was captured live on television, but that's no guarantee he'll get a satisfactory outcome to his complaint.
By its very nature, 'due process' tends to treat both accuser and accused with an 'it's their word against yours' balance, which sounds fair enough in theory. But consider the number of incidents vis a vis the number of times an accuser has been found to have delivered false testimony and it seems preposterous that the burden of proof falls so heavily on the complainant.
Although it appears cut and dried, Kamara has a long way to go before convincing Uefa that he was wronged.
His complaint will be investigated by an anonymous disciplinary inspector, who will submit a report to Uefa's Control, Ethics and Disciplinary body. Ultimately, they decide if a rule has been breached and determine the punishment.
It won't surprise you that, back in 1988, no action was taken by the Irish FA against Glentoran.
And, despite the huge number of RUC officers on duty inside a ground that housed 10,000 that night, no one was arrested for abusing the two Linfield players, who showed remarkable dignity and restraint throughout the ordeal and still speak highly of their time here.
For Coly, the more gifted of the pair, revenge was a dish best served cold.
A few months later - again at the Oval - he scored a wonder goal in an Irish Cup victory for Linfield which effectively ended Glentoran's season.