There is something deeply irrational about being a football fan. The time, money and effort spent following your club.
The delusions, the hopes, the fears. How your mood is dictated by a few multi-millionaires gathered from around the world kicking a ball for 90 minutes.
But for more than half a century, I have followed my chosen club of Everton with strange devotion.
TRENDING
So today I will head over to east London to watch them play West Ham, a fixture blessed with many unusually fond memories of victory for a match in the capital.