I Have A Birthday Every Year

I have a good memory of being taken to the football on my birthday by my grandad when I was little. As usual I was dressed in my full replica strip, grandad carried me on his shoulders up the steps to the turnstiles. He put me down to go in, and held my hand all the way through to our seats. We sat side by side awaiting our team to come out. He shared his black bullets with me and told me his football stories from long past, old players and how good they were. Pointing at where he used to sit with his dad when he was little and where he sat with my dad as well. I listened to him politely as I always did, but I didn't always pay attention.

When our team came out he pointed at all the players and named them with their numbers and explained who we were playing against. He taught me the terrace songs (not the rude ones). When the game began he sat me on his lap and cuddled me all through, talking to me and answering my silly questions.

After a good game we retraced our steps out to the car and drove our way home through the fans, singing all the way.

I'd give a lot to relive that again.