Everyone remembers their first game. The excitement as you stroll up to the turnstile. The butterflies in your stomach as the boisterous roar of the crowd gets louder and louder. And, of course, the pungent aroma of fried onions and burgers whilst traipsing down the concourse before kick-off.
My Dad - a die-hard Oxford United fan of over thirty years - finally got his wish on 15th April 2006 when he managed to drag me along to a U's game for the first time; something he'd been attempting to achieve for all of my life but to little avail.
Oxford were facing Barnet at the Kassam Stadium and I didn't really have a clue about either side: who the managers were, who the players were or even what colour kits the two teams were to be donning.
Despite my bewilderment, I distinctly remember being moved by a stirring chorus of "Come on you yellows!" as I wondered up the stairs and towards my seat.
This was shortly followed by Congolese striker Tcham N'Toya racing through on goal and firing the ball into the net on 41 seconds to put Oxford in front.
"Dad, what's that player's name?"
"Dad, is that a free-kick to us?"
"Dad, why was that a foul?"
It was a stream of question after question aimed at my Dad for the remainder of the game. I must've been doing his head in. It's a miracle that he wanted me to come to another game.
There was one question that made him raise a smile though.
"When is the next one?"
That was it. I was hooked. You couldn't keep me away; despite Oxford getting relegated that season and having to play sides like Stafford Rangers and Northwich Victoria for the next four years. I loved it.
So here's to you, Tcham N'Toya. This is all your fault. Embed from Getty Images
My Dad - a die-hard Oxford United fan of over thirty years - finally got his wish on 15th April 2006 when he managed to drag me along to a U's game for the first time; something he'd been attempting to achieve for all of my life but to little avail.
Oxford were facing Barnet at the Kassam Stadium and I didn't really have a clue about either side: who the managers were, who the players were or even what colour kits the two teams were to be donning.
Despite my bewilderment, I distinctly remember being moved by a stirring chorus of "Come on you yellows!" as I wondered up the stairs and towards my seat.
This was shortly followed by Congolese striker Tcham N'Toya racing through on goal and firing the ball into the net on 41 seconds to put Oxford in front.
"Dad, what's that player's name?"
"Dad, is that a free-kick to us?"
"Dad, why was that a foul?"
It was a stream of question after question aimed at my Dad for the remainder of the game. I must've been doing his head in. It's a miracle that he wanted me to come to another game.
There was one question that made him raise a smile though.
"When is the next one?"
That was it. I was hooked. You couldn't keep me away; despite Oxford getting relegated that season and having to play sides like Stafford Rangers and Northwich Victoria for the next four years. I loved it.
So here's to you, Tcham N'Toya. This is all your fault. Embed from Getty Images
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