I NEVER thought I'd see the day when I could witness Rod Stewart in concert virtually on my doorstep, writes the WMN's Jackie Butler. When my all-time favourite superstar singer appears at Plymouth's Home Park football stadium on July 2, a 10-minute bus ride will deliver me to the venue to hear a dream set of greatest hits among fellow devotees.

It's a major coup for the club to secure Rod's only UK date of the summer, and a personal delight for me. Rod and I go back a long way, and I can honestly say that he changed my life.

The first time I saw him live on stage was the first time I'd ever been to a "proper" gig; there had been the odd fledgling band making a racket in the local youth club, but this was going to be something else. 1972 and the gravel-voiced, spiky-haired satin-clad Maggie May crooner was going to be on stage at The Rainbow in Finsbury Park with the super-cool raggle-taggle bunch who completed The Faces – Ronnie Lane, Ronnie Wood, Kenney Jones and Ian McLagan.

I'd seen their ramshackle, danger-filled, breathtaking performance on Top of the Pops, blasting out Stay With Me. When I saw the announcement for the gig in the Melody Maker I knew I just had to be there.

I lived in London, but the Rainbow was in the alien north, uncharted territory for a naive, barely teenage softy southern schoolgirl. With websites and Internet purchases not even a dream on the horizon, the tickets went on sale at the venue's box office on January 15 – my mother's birthday. I cruelly neglected her and spent from dawn till dusk with my friend Susan in a queue that snaked around the theatre's perimeter, to secure a pair of coveted passes to musical mayhem and magic.

On the day of the show, a few weeks later, we were delivered in style by my uncle in his dusky pink Hillman Husky, dispatched by my parents so that we wouldn't be travelling alone after dark.

After a great warm-up set by Scottish band Nazareth, suddenly they were there on stage and I found myself open-mouthed with awe, standing just three rows back, midway between Rod and Woody, as the crazy party got started.

The infectious honky-tonk bluesy rock and roll sound, Rod's deliciously husky tones, his cheeky grin, the way he swung his mic stand around, his tight trousers, silky scarf and leopard-print jacket, the bottles of hooch the band swooped from the stage-side bar, Woody's ever-present fag in the corner of his mouth; it all struck a massive chord that confirmed my destiny as a rock-and-roll-loving gig-goer. Mesmerised, it took me a few seconds to realise that Susan wasn't right next to me, similarly enchanted; she was slipping to the floor in an overwhelmed faint. That could have been the end of my night, but the St John Ambulance man was charm personified and personally guaranteed her welfare while I charged back into position in time for the glorious finale and the start of a lifelong passion.

Oddly, although I've seen hundreds of other artists live in the intervening decades, I didn't make it to see Rod again until a couple of years ago when I took a friend to see him at Sheffield (the only weekend show a working girl could get to) as a surprise gift for her 50th birthday. I have to say it was a night just as fabulous as that first evening in Rod's company.

We've both matured in our musical tastes, he's still brim-full of fun and enthusiasm and perpetuates the cream of a bottomless back catalogue delivered in a voice that's matured like a vintage champagne.

It was like being an honoured guest at his personal party, with a singalong spirit that spilled into a spontaneous version of I Don't Want ToTalk About It on the tram-ride back to our hotel.

Rod even spoke to me. When he told the 13,000-strong crowd he was going to sing a song that was the B-side of the Maggie May single and asked if anyone knew its title, I shouted out the answer, thinking I'd be one of many. Mine was a lone voice yelling: "Reason To Believe".

"Thanks, darlin'," called Rod, waving.

I have great expectations for his Plymouth show.

Rod Stewart plays Home Park, Plymouth, on Thursday, July 2. Tickets, priced £65 and £55 are available from Home Park box office (0845 338 7232, www.pafc.co.uk), Ticketmaster and See Tickets.