I know the old bloke next to me is called Paddy cos it's written on his seat, but he doesn't know my name and I've sat next to him and chatted for ten years. I know all about his wife and he knows about mine and my kids too.
Sounds sentimental, but after the drive from Bingley, through Bradford and the nervous excitement kicking in down the motorway. Couple of pints and food in the Dove as the kick off time gets closer, but the biggest thing for me is the anticipation of watching YTBFC walking around with his GoPro and wondering week on week what hairstyle he is going to be sporting.
Walking up into town, having lunch with my parents then a few pints with my dad and my as-good-as uncle in Old no7, walk up to the ground and the way large groups of people move together, bumping into people we know at the ground, climbing up all the blumming stairs to East Stand Upper. The people that sit around us, regular faces having a chat. That feeling when you nick a goal and everyone goes barmy. The penguin shuffle on the way back out to get back down the stairs.
Once chatting to him at bar in Chennels when ah noticed he'd downed one pint and had one to take back to his table but as he was busy talking to us he 'd started his 2nd pint .........so he got another, smashing old lad and a true Red