My Dad took me to Moss Lane at Christmas 1953 and I saw us ship five to Northwich Vics. It didn't put me off, and I saw a good few games over the next five years or so.
However, Easter 1956 saw me impulsively jump on the train and head for Old Trafford, where I saw the Busby Babes demolish Newcastle 5-2. I was totally hooked on the atmosphere. My parents were less enthsiastic, but agreed that I could go to games with my Uncle, which I did until that fateful day in 1958. The crowds and the passion were too much for my folks to take in, and I was redirected to Moss Lane (I'd taken in a few games anyway) and also had a brief flirtation with County - we lived on the 71 bus route.
The bottom line - I was, and still am, a football junkie ! I've watched Linotype, Old Alts (played the odd game in the lower level teams), City, and when I was exiled to the wilds of the West Midlands in 1970 I tried six or seven clubs before settling for three very enjoyable years with Aston Villa ! I'll watch ANYBODY - if I'm in the park and there's a kickabout I automatically stop and watch for a while (our late lamented labrador used to want to join in, and I would have to move on).
To me, it is, and will always be the beautiful game - but those who remember my vow to blank the forthcoming World Cup will realise that I hate the sprawling commercial monster that it has become.