Lee is, of course, best known to us for playing over a century of matches for the other lot, totting up over 30 goals in the process, including one in an East Anglian Derby. He is, to put it bluntly, a pain in the backside.
To put it more anatomically, to Championship defenders, he's a pain in the chest, shoulder, cheekbone or back. Wherever his elbows land, basically. If you're a referee, he's a pain in the earhole. In backchat terms, big Al is right up there with the very best. A world class pain all round and an opponent you'd love to hate or, as was the case in his Ipswich days, one who I detested.
Why the conflict then, over an elbow-happy, whinging 'scummer'? If you saw the Watford game, you'll know. After dutifully playing the target man and selflessly putting himself about for the first hour of the match to little effect, Lee's enthusiasm got the better of him. Booked for persistent fouling, I can't have been alone in hoping Gunny would haul him off for his own and the team's benefit as he continued to harangue the ref.
Then, as if from nowhere, Lee became all of City's strikers in one. Racing past half the Watford team in a manner more reminiscent of dribble wizard Alan Gow or the seldom seen kid Cody MacDonald, he pinged a shot so hard against the woodwork it landed 25 yards from goal. A similar run and Mooney-esque finish saw a deserved goal disallowed for a dubious offside. The tide had turned.
Where Lee has really won me round is in his subsequent actions. Saluting all four corners of the ground before celebrating his nomination as man of the match after all his teammates had retired triumphant to the dressing room clinched it for me. He has since been busy severing all ties with Suffolk, claiming he felt forced out and reaffirming his desire to extend his stay in Norfolk.
Famous last words they may come to be, but with the opposition packing Kevin Lisbie, a former Canary loanee now missing barn doors for the Tractor Boys, I know who I would be more afraid of.