City v Spurs back in 1994. Won 5-2. Absolutely lashing down in the partially built Kippax. Stewards were handing out little plastic macs but i refused to wear one. After about an hour My uncle turned to me, looked at my drowned rat like appearance and said "we can go if you want."
I looked back at him, turned and looked at the pitch and replied "it's ok Unc, i want to stay till the end"
I was hooked, it was like a drug. At home that night i couldn't wait for the smell of the smokey toilets, peeing up against a wall behind the stand which was classed as "THE GENTS" or giving a quid to the local toe rags to "look" after our car. It was weird. When i stepped out of the car and got closer to the ground it's as if it was calling you in.