I was fairly young in our glory days, vague memories, crying in 84,85,86,89 for all different reasons. I went to Wembley in 95, but it was a fairly quiet day, I went with my cousin and we just drove down, went the game and drove back, didnt really savour the day as we should have.
Then there was the dark days, fighting for our lives. Awful players wearing blue, shocking managers, shocking chairman. Bad, bad time to be a blue.
Ive got 3 children and clearly each birth was possibly the happiest day of my life. But Sunday is up there. The whole day was wonderful and im fairly sure the younger fans and those without children wished the day would never end.
Just a semi olduns view on things.