I was pondering on something the other day, whilst a leisurely leaned back in my chair at work, blissfully willing the minutes by, doing absolutely nothing of value:
I know there are at least a few, because I've talked to them, in fact, I even bloody am one myself. Blasphemy! I know. But if you'd indulge me whilst I take a nonchalant stroll down memory lane, I'll explain why.
As a wee child, I was never that much into football, in spite of my then United supporting father's best wishes. No, I was far, far more interested in watching Scooby-Doo and creating wonderful little trinkets with kinetics. I knew of the sport, obviously, and I still played* it at lunch and break times at primary school, in order to not be left wondering the courtyard all on my lonesome. But alas, I had not one iota of interest in watching the beautiful game in the slightest.
*ran around like a dickhead and did absolutely nothing.
As the months and years rolled by that gradually started to change, as I got more and more interested in football. As I mentioned, my father, and all the other members in my family, were Manchester United fans, so naturally, I began to follow them. *spits on the floor*. Yes, my football upbringing consisted nearly entirely of VHS tapes of the Manchester United teams of the 90s, meaning so many of my favourite footballers derive from that era: Lee Sharpe, Jaap Stam, Ole Gunnar Solskjær, Andrei Kanchelskis, Paul Scholes, Eric Cantona, Peter Schmeichel, and above all, still to this day - Roy Keane.
I imagine quite a lot of you may be doing a little bit of sick into your own mouth right now, that is if you're still reading and didn't close this article after the first paragraph. Don't worry, we're moving onto Bolton now.
So, as my interest in football grew and grew I wanted to, you know, actually go and watch it. Surprisingly enough, Burnley were the first team I watched that I consciously wanted to go and see. In fact, the game was Burnley v Liverpool in the cup, the faithful day that Djimi Traore scored the greatest own goal of all time.
My first Bolton match came on the opening day of the following season. The Reebok Stadium. Bolton Wanderers vs. Tottenham Hotspur. The game wasn't ten minutes old when I saw the man who would become my favourite footballer of all time, Ivan Campo, blast one of the best goals I've ever seen in past England's number one goalkeeper from 40 yards. Not too long after and the hero that is Kevin Davies doubled the lead with a trademarked header. I was hooked, I was in love, and from that moment onwards, until the day I return to the dirt, I'm curse to support the Wanderers.
So that's my story of how I came to be a Bolton fan, I abandoned years of success and the chance to see the best players in the world, all for this club, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
But now it's your turn, I want to know your story of how you came to support the Whites. Did you inherited your support from your family, or did you find your own way? Have you been a Bolton fan since you were born, or did you support someone else first?
Let me know in the comments below, and don't be shy, as the great old question ponders:
"What is better - to be born good or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"