To a young fan whose life revolved around those Seagulls, these four words, or rather three words and a date, meant the world to me.

They were on a pennant which my father bought me in the year mentioned.

In the club colours of blue and white, with the crest thrown in for good measure along with two attractive rows of tassels, it commemorated the achievement of Brighton and Hove Albion reaching the top flight of English football.

It was the dawning of a whole new era of my team’s rightful place alongside the likes of Arsenal, Liverpool and Manchester United and as such I would keep it always.

Victory at Newcastle on the final day of the 1978-79 season confirmed Brighton’s promotion from Division Two, alongside arch-rival Crystal Palace.

The dream lasted four years. As eras go, it was hardly up there with the Paleolithic.

The 34 years since have been eventful to say the least for the Seagulls.

I would use the cliche about it being a rollercoaster ride, but any such ride with dips as big as Brighton’s would surely get closed down.

Relegations, ground shares, ground losses, protests, point deductions and a regular stream of bombshells climaxed in the colourful end to the 1996-97 season.

Having plummeted to the very bottom of the professional pyramid, Brighton fought back from 13 points adrift to go into their last match needing a point to avoid the dreaded drop to non-league football.

The only side they could possibly catch was Hereford, and that final game was away … to Hereford.

A Brighton win would send Hereford down, a Hereford win would send Brighton down, but crucially a draw would also send Hereford down by virtue of Brighton having scored three more goals over the season.

It was to be the most stressful 90 minutes of my life. Sorry The Wife, but watching you give birth twice had nothing on this game.

Midway through the first half Brighton defender Kerry Mayo scored. Unfortunately, it was into his own goal. The Seagulls’ 77-year league career was looking cooked.

Salvation came late. When a Craig Maskell shot struck a post the rebound was tucked away by a journeyman striker named Robbie Reinelt who never did much before or since but will forever be immortalised in Albion folklore.

I celebrated like I have never celebrated again. Oh, apart from the whole parenthood thing, yeah, that was good too.

Twenty years on from that day at Edgar Street on the English-Welsh border, Brighton have come full circle and earned promotion to the top flight for the second time in my life.

Ironically, they will progress to the Premier League alongside Newcastle United, the side that helpfully hosted the last such promotion party. While the passage was confirmed a few weeks ago, the title was only decided on Sunday.

The Seagulls flew just above the Magpies knowing they only had to match results to win the league.

True to form, both teams appeared to be cruising to wins – Newcastle 3-0 up at home to Barnsley and Brighton 1-0 at 10-man Aston Villa – a scenario that would hand the title to the Seagulls.

But in the 89^th minute, a speculative shot from Villa’s mercurial substitute Jack Grealish appeared to go straight through Brighton keeper David Stockdale and with it the Championship trophy headed 300 kilometres north to Tyneside.

What should have been the Seagulls’ crowning glory instead saw them dethroned. How apt that a team called the Magpies should steal the silverware.

Ultimately, it matters little. The disappointment of “only” finishing second was nothing compared to finishing third on goal difference last season and then losing in the play-offs for the third time in four years.

The open-top bus celebration will still go ahead, the wonderful Amex Stadium cut into the South Downs will still welcome the likes of Jose Mourinho and Arsene Wenger next season (sackings permitting) and the Premiership fixture computer will still have to accommodate the second longest club name in English football (Wolverhampton Wanderers since you ask).

However the Seagulls fare alongside the oligarchs of Chelsea, Man United and, er, Bournemouth, will be fun to watch and I now have to show some interest in Optus for the first time in my life in order to do so.

While the last top-flight dream was to have a rude awakening, one thing did endure.

I have kept that pennant. It lives in our spare room, hanging proudly above the Southern Hemisphere’s largest collection of Brighton and Hove Albion programs, all 25 volumes of them.

I have no proof of this statement, it is based purely on reason and the likelihood of anybody else transporting so much of so little use so far. Anybody who has done so has both my admiration and my pity.