It was bound to end like this: a long and arduous odyssey that started in 1982 on a crumbling terrace culminated on a grey, drizzly afternoon in December watching my team get hammered 3-0 in a brand spanking new stadium named in conjunction with an international commercial law firm. A glorious away win thanks to a last-minute winner would have been somehow too poetic. This was how it was meant to be, when I finally completed the 92. As with that game at Everton, most games were as an away Nottingham Forest fan; others as a neutral. There is much
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