"I actually started as a Liverpool supporter because my dad supported them and I hero-worshipped Robbie Fowler. He was another left-footer and I loved him. I'd go back to school and every time we played I'd pretend I was Fowler.
"I was only young, though, and I didn't like the hustle and bustle of the stands. I lost interest in Liverpool, but I still loved watching football. I was at the 1995 FA Cup final [when Everton beat Manchester United 1-0]. I went through a spell of liking Blackburn Rovers because they had Alan Shearer and Chris Sutton in attack. And then I started watching Everton properly when I was about 14. My mum wouldn't let me go on my own but my cousin was three years older than me so we'd get the bus, 50p from Kirkby, and then hang around outside until we could sneak in.
"We'd wait until they opened the gates after 75 minutes for the early-leavers to go. There were stewards on the gates and if they were in a good mood they would wink and let us in. One guy, in particular, used to look out for us. But sometimes, if we were unlucky, there would be a jobsworth on the door and we wouldn't get to see anything."
His schoolboy reminiscences, cheering on the team from the Gwladys Street end and tacking posters of Duncan Ferguson to his bedroom walls."
That was the only thing that gave me confidence that he would stay. Supported 'them'. Sh*t.
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