With us maybe getting to Wembley again and listening to the podcast on the way to work today,hearing Ady Williams talk about Wembley has brought up a load of feelings from our last visit to the stadium.
So in the wake of similar nostalgia/memory threads that I always seem to start, heres one for the memories of our 2 previous trips to the national stadium.
For me, I spent the day with my Dad. in 1995 I was only 9 at the time. I was wearing the Reading shirt I'd been given for my birthday about 3 weeks before, and I'm pretty sure I probably had the shorts and socks on underneath my trousers as well
Travelled in by car, and I remember flying the scarf out the window and seeing so many blue and white scarfs flying out of the window. The excitement was just building as we got closer and closer to London.
When we arrived we parked up in an industrial estate not far from the stadium right next to another father and son, who were Bolton fans. We had a bit of a friendly chat and wished each other luck before heading on our walk down to the stadium.
Again what struck me being so young was how big the twin towers looked and just how many Reading fans with hats, t-shirts and flags there seemed to be, quite the difference from a rainy day at Elm Park
But being 9 I was impatient to get inside the stadium, I wanted to take my seat read the programme and settle down, despite my Dad saying we needed to 'soak up the atmosphere' I just couldnt wait.
So we got into the ground, got a programme and took our seats. We were to the right of the goal about half way up and had a pretty decent view of the game. As the stadium filled the noise got louder but I seemed mesmorised by the scoreboard
It was the first ground I'd been too with such fancyness and I enjoyed seeing various animations etc on the yellow screens.
By the time the match kicked off I was so wound up that I needed the bog shortly after Nogs scored, much to the annoyance of my Dad who had to take down to the concourse. In doing so I managed to miss Williams goal as I was in the bog but my Dad managed to see the goal from the entrance to the concourse. All I remember hearing is a giant roar before rushing out, and at that point I just took it for granted we'd win.
Obviously it didn't happen, I don't remember much of the rest of the game, I remember how silent it seemed when Bolton finally made it 2-2. Into extra time and when we went 4-2 down I think I just started crying into my programme, it all seemed so sad
I didn't even see Quinns goal go in I was so upset
but at least we cheered and for a brief moment I thought maybe it would be ok. It wasnt
We stayed till the end to see the players walk up to the royal box, before heading out of the ground. I didn't have any sense of what not going up would mean, I had no idea we'd lose the key parts of the side, I was just sad we'd lost a big game.
The journey home was quiet, we listneed to Radio Berks and they seemed to be playing always look on the bright side of life, became a bit of an anthem for me the next few weeks
Thats about all I remember. I really wish I'd been a couple of years older to really appreciate the day and the atmosphere but as a young fan who'd only been to his first game in the Jan it was quite an apt introduction to life as a Reading fan.
Be great to hear a few tales from those who remember 88+95 a bit better