It was March 1987, the sun was shining, excitement filled the air, I was 6 years old, I had sweets from the corner shop, I was allowed in the pub with my Grandad and uncles, I had a couple of glasses of coke, I eagerly read my matchday programme and sat patiently. I still remember to this day, the exact moment I entered the terrace and caught the green, green grass of Elm Park, the rusty old stand, the brightly painted blue barriers and the metal fence keeping us in. The players were merely feet away from me. I was hooked, right there. Reading won and a beautiful and often painful relationship was formed.