Sixty years. That is how long I have been supporting Hull City. There have been many ups and downs but when you support one of England's less famous, least glamorous and least successful clubs you have to be prepared to take the rough with the smooth.
This afternoon we were playing in Rotherham which is a large town that abuts Sheffield. It was almost like a home game for me - just a short drive in the Clintmobile.
Rotherham United's home ground is called The New York Stadium. It's a nice purpose-built little ground that can hold 12,000 people. It was named with regard to the iron and steel manufacturing company that once blossomed on the site and famously made hundreds of red fire hydrants for export to New York City.
I had arranged to meet my friend Tony before the game. He had kindly bought me a match ticket for my birthday.
It was a delightful day for football. Blue sky above and green grass below. The air was still and the temperature was balmy for late October.
Beneath the visitors' stand, happy Tigers supporters crowded together looking forward to the game with club songs chanted, beer cans sprayed and some idiot let off a flare, filling the enclosed area with pink smoke. We barged our way through and headed for our seats, right behind the goal.
It's not a viewpoint that we often experience - with much of the action being witnessed through the goal netting.
As I say, you experience highs and lows as a football supporter and today was most definitely a high. We have had a difficult season so far and after a great beginning we lost several matches in a row. It was starting to look grim but today was our day and it was great to see three of our four goals go in at our end of the ground - right under our noses. We beat Rotherham by four goals to two but we ought to have had more than four. Their official "Man of the Match" was their Icelandic goalkeeper which says a lot about how the game went for Rotherham.
My favourite goal was our second one - scored by Cyrus Christie. He ghosted in from the right wing and was as cool as a cucumber as he slotted his low shot goalwards between the keeper and the post. The crowd around us went wild and I was lost in the moment, joining in with the singing and punching the air just like the boy I once was.