When Adam Le Fondre played against Bolton Wanderers for Reading, I used to really hate him.
He was that sort of player who would harass and bother our defenders, and who wouldn't be afraid of utilising pound shop versions of Diego Costa's "dark arts".
Now, in his second spell, we are starting to see the player that he was during those peak Premier League games. Against Northampton Town, a stubborn and well-organised defence was absolutely terrorised by our little no.45. A man who though lacking in height has heart to spare, and who left every single possible ounce of energy on the pitch.
Since rejoining the club, he has gradually worked his way back to full fitness, and we are starting to see the benefits of that extra few percent that he has over his first few games.
He covered every blade of grass in the name of the cause, and he was an absolute menace. I can imagine Northampton fans sitting there watching him leap like a salmon saying "You know what, I fuckin' hate that Le Fondre".
I want opposing fans to hate our players. It means they're afraid.
In this sort of form, ALF strikes fear into rivals and his fourth goal in three games points to man who is coming into his richest vein of form at just the right time.
In the interests of fairness and honesty, I almost gave this award to Big Gary Madine. I also almost gave it to Philip Morris. Such was the quality on display yesterday from Bolton.
But no. My winner is Adam Le Fondre. The little gorgeous bundle of energy, graft and desire. Stay forever.