22 years to the day....

That I attended my first ever game. Anglo-Italian Cup vs Cesena. My old man and my uncle took me down. It was adults a fiver and kids for a quid. I still remember it like it was yesterday.

From the pub beforehand to the bustling crowd and the scolding hot chocolate before kick off. The lasting memory was hearing keep right on being belted out and from then on i just knew this was the team for me and I begged to go back to every game.

I remember we won 3-1 and my uncle told me that we don’t win all the time and as the song goes “there’ll be joys and sorrows”. Since then they’ve made me cry tears of joy and sadness in the playoffs (I was only 11).

I still have a memory of my head of year at school who was a mad vile fan and season ticket holder tried winding me up after the Watford game. I was the only blues fan in the class as the others were vile, Man U and Liverpool. He was laughing at me as I turned up in my blues coat wearing it with pride after we went out and he asked why I supported the blues and not the villa. “Because I know who my dad is sir” was my reply. I remember his face as he told me I had detention for the week. Told my dad and he pissed himself laughing saying he was proud of me.

I wouldn’t have it any other way though and the blues is my religion. I’ve spoken to my old man and uncle today and told them I haven’t forgiven them!