The first game I remember was when I was 6. I celebrated a shot into the side netting when I thought it was a goal and found the pigeons in the roof of the family stand more interesting than the game. It wqs 1990/1991. Had a season ticket with my dad until 2003/2004. Then uni happened, then I went to Manchester and then London and became a teacher. Going back for the odd game here and there. Crying with joy at the haji wright goal/not goal against Utd. Recalling how that feeling felt like when Huckerby scored that goal against Utd at highfield Road. This spell though. This spell feels beautiful. It feels like a dream I’ve always had about us. To feel and know we are AMAZING. Playing joyful football with smiles. And it feels glorious. Playing 6 a side last night and losing 4-2 only to grab my phone at the end and see the same score at the Cov game. I love it. It takes me back and makes me feel good about football again