All my life spent on this earth has been a challenge in search of fulfilment - aiming to reach the highest pinnacle. As yet, my efforts have failed to satisfy a burning ambition to finish at the top in whatever field I had chosen.
Obviously my football playing days are long gone but there are many issues still to be resolved, such as the Alzheimer phenomenon which has decimated hundreds of famed footballers of the 1940s and 50s era, caused through heading the heavy ball.
In my book Hands, Feet and Balls, I was explicit on the contrasting differences in football between the 40s and 50s and today. It saddens me to witness players of modicum talent receiving thousands of pounds a week while those of yesteryear were lucky if they pocketed the princely sum of £20 a week - the maximum wage at the time.
Players of calibres during those distant days were household names and indeed many of them still remain rooted in people's memory today - to name a few I had the privilege of playing with or against: Frank Swift, goalkeeper of Manchester City and England, killed in the Manchester United air crash when working as a sports writer, Stanley Matthews, Tom Finney, Jackie Milburn, Ernie Taylor, Albert Stubbins, Frank Brennan and Charlie Crowe.
But in my opinion, and that of thousands of football lovers throughout the world, the greatest of them all was John Charles, who tragically died a short while ago at the early age of 72.
I played against John during his Leeds United days at least half a dozen times, both at centre forward and centre half, and he was equally proficient in either position but he was more of a threat at centre half which no doubt will surprise many people, both young and old.
When playing at centre forward, any crosses from the wings aimed at John's head were easily dealt with on the occasions I left my line to switch the ball from John's head. Never at any time did he hassle me which, of course, earned him the title the "Gentle Giant".
However he was a different proposition when playing at centre half. Week after week he would collect the ball in midfield and set off on one of his sorties, knocking over any opponent who got in his way, before finishing off with a tremendous shot from 25 or 30 yards. Some of those explosive missiles were of such velocity they almost carried me into the back of the net.
Incredibly, John only scored one goal against me and that was from the penalty spot. He struck the ball with such force he clipped my right ear, which troubled me years later. Eventually it needed an operation when my playing days were over.
I am quite certain the ball was specially doctored for the benefit of John. I could normally pick up the ball with one hand but that wasn't possible when playing at Elland Road. Apparently the ball was soaked in water the night before the game, which increased the size and the same time boosted its weight enormously.
Nevertheless my confrontations with John were at all times enjoyable - a newspaper headline after one game highlighted this affirmation - King v Charles - it was one of my prouder moments.
In my book HFB, I wrote extensively about Jackie Milburn and Albert Stubbins, two of United's greatest-ever centre forwards. But there were several episodes which at the time of writing escaped my memory, particularly in the case of Stubbins.
Many of the goals scored by Jackie and Albert were spectacular affairs and one in particular, by Albert, will never be forgotten by those 60,000 spectators who saw the game against Blackburn Rovers at St James Park in 1946.
It was a goal in which I took an active part, a regular occurrence when I delivered most of the free kicks in our half of the pitch, and from which Albert scored many of his goals.
However, on this occasion I had to sprint outside the box to clear the ball from an oncoming Blackburn attacker. I succeeded in catching it on the 'up', resulting in the ball soaring to the heavens.
Incredibly, Albert, keeping his eye firmly on the ball, nonchalantly controlled it on the inset of his left foot, did a little shimmy, sending a defender the wrong way, then turned quickly and lifted the ball into a position where he struck a thunderbolt strike with his right foot from fully 30 to 35 yards into the back of the Blackburn net. Had there been television cameras in those days, replays would have been played over and over again.
I reminded Albert of that wonder goal when we met each other at a Newcastle hotel fairly recently. Before sitting down for our meal we decided a trip to the gents would be appropriate.
As we went through the door into the convenience, a middle aged man, seeing Albert, grabbed him by the shoulders with the kind of greeting one would associate meeting a long-lost relative.
For a full 20 minutes or so Albert was subjected to a non-stop verbal onslaught from this man, who was obviously a Newcastle United fanatic and an ardent admirer of Albert Stubbins. Albert and I finally decided enough was enough, edging back through the exit door into the corridor, realising we hadn't accomplished what we'd gone in for!
As we resumed our seats in the dining room, Albert turned to me and said: "Do you think it will be safe to go back to the gents now?"
I was on the point of complying with his request but realising diners in the restaurant might think there was something funny going on between us, I suggested we visit the gents one at a time.
His last words to me as we said goodbye were: "Ray, what we achieved at St James's Park will never be forgotten - you kept them out and I banged them in."
Albert died not long afterwards when I was in Thailand.
Albert and Jackie Milburn, both cream centre forwards, have now left the "field of play" but I shall always remember them with fond affection - they were true friends.

MAY 13 last year had a special significance for me. On that date Port Vale FC celebrated the 50th anniversary of the team's most successful season in the club's history 1953-54, when they won the Third Division North Championship by a landslide and narrowly failed to beat West Bromwich Albion (top of the then First Division) in the FA Cup Semi-Final.
I was in goal for the Vale in what proved to be my most successful season, culminating in creating a defensive record, conceding only 25 goals in 54 league and FA Cup games. It still stands as an all-time record. Because of this achievement I was selected as one of four keepers to represent England for the World Cup Series to be played in Switzerland.
Celebrities from all walks of life were invited to the celebration, including Robbie Williams whose father, an entertainer himself, is an ardent Vale supporter. The team's success was all the more memorable as eight of the players were local-born Stoke-on-Trent lads.
What a contrast to today's footballing climate when most Premier League teams are saturated with foreign players.
During my playing days with Newcastle United, every player was a local lad with the exception of Joe Harvey, captain of the side.
But Joe himself admitted he was an adopted Geordie and proved his point, staying the rest of his career with United as manager, chief coach and chief scout. His devotion to the club was paramount.
The cost of printing my book HFB was £5,000 and with much of the proceeds donated to the alzheimer fund (ex footballers) I'm afraid it is a mere 'drop in the ocean'!
To have the Alzheimers phenomenon recognised by the medical profession and the Football Association would provide the fulfilment I hoped to achieve, of reaching the highest pinnacle in something I set about doing.
Then I will feel my main ambition in life has been fulfilled.