On Monday, September 4, it will be the 150th anniversary of the formation of our beloved club.
For Sheffield Wednesday fans we have all become wedded to the club at different points in our lives and through different generations.
Like a marriage, the beginning is the most evocative. I became betrothed to the Owls in the early nineties.
From the moment I walked up the stairs of the South Stand and saw the lush green grass of the pitch I knew it was love.
It also helped that the team of the time was successful and joy to watch. Hirst, Nilsson, Williams, Pearson, Wilson, Palmer, Sheridan. Their football was the reason I lusted after more of the same.
Heady days of cup finals are intoxicating, and you know you want to be together forever.
The honeymoon period and rose tinted glasses ended with David Pleat. A little less naïve but still addicted.
Traditionally a 10th anniversary gift is tin. Instead, we got relegation from the Premier League. Even through our steady decline from richer to poorer, when Sir Dave Richards nearly ruined you, and you became stuck in a rut with Turner, Shreeves and Yorath, I was there.
Although love is conditional and you may get annoyed by their faults, the memories of what you’ve been through together will outweigh a dip in attraction.
On our 15th anniversary you brought me Lee Bullen, Steve Maclean and hope for the future.
In our 25th year together I brought another Wednesdayite into the world who will one day walk into Hillsborough and hopefully feel the connection that I did.
In your 150 years, you have brought pleasure and pain to many a fan. I may vent you at times and say things I regret, but you were my first love. Happy anniversary Sheffield Wednesday, I vow this relationship is till death do us part.