I was thirtysomething in the mid-80s and remember tying a Blue ribbon around our dog's neck before walking her to the shops the morning of the 1984 Cup Final, so proud was I. I was prouder still as I stood at Wembley Stadium and cheered the lads as they paraded the cup.
Wembley became my second home over the next few years, even though there was little to celebrate at the end of most games. I look back at that glorious time with immense pride and, notwithstanding 1995, it breaks my heart how greatly the club suffered from the European ban (which was when I became a bitter blue) and that has been highlighted by our lack of growth and success since.
I wonder how many who booed remember the mid-80s? Those that don't will never know the sadness we feel. Yet we would never think of making a public disgrace of ourselves. People down here often wonder why I chose to support Everton and, as we all know, I didn't choose Everton, Everton chose me, and made me feel specially blessed. When I was aged 12, and a relatively new Blue, Fred Pickering was bought to ultimately replace my hero, Alex Young, I was frightened that it meant the end of the Golden Vision. When my fears were realized, although I cried for days, I never once thought of booing Fred. Times change, people move on.
Maybe I'm just made of different stuff because now, as I am now 62 and about to move to an over 60s retirement apartment with my wife, although I have become cynical where politicians and wannabe reality 'celebrities' are concerned, I will never EVER become cynical where my beloved Everton are concerned.