My First Game: Impaired views, chip butties and a Webber winner - I was in love with Sheffield United

Today, Harvey Hinkler remembers the day he became hooked on United – August 20, 2005, and a 2-1 victory over Preston North End.

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On a warm Saturday afternoon in late August, my dad dragged my five-year-old self to the football. I was probably more aware of Sheffield United than I was football itself at that age with my room filled with red and white everything from rugs to pillows. I certainly wasn’t clued up on our opponents that day, Preston North End.

Despite all the merch a football-obsessed father could buy to indoctrinate his son, it was visiting ‘Beautiful Downtown Bramall Lane’ that got me hooked on United, and by association football.

As a small lad, the home of the Blades looked gargantuan and I was just in wonderful awe of where I was headed. I suspect the smell of Man Friday, my dad’s go-to pre-match chippy, helped with the excitement.

After taking an age to climb what at the time seemed like never-ending steps, which I would later come to know as my stairway to heaven, I walked into Gangway C of the Kop.

I had never experienced such a mass gathering of people, it was unbelievable.

The first time hearing Unitedites belt out Greasy Chip Butty was a joy to behold, I had no idea what “A gallon of Magnet” or “A packet of Woodbine” were because, well, I was five. But it did not remove from my enjoyment of hearing 20,000 people sing in unison.

Now, I’d be lying if I said that I remember much of the actual game. Surprisingly enough as a toddler my tactical nuance wasn’t quite at its peak, but I knew the basic premise of wanting the red and white team to win.

Repeat viewings of our season review DVD that season has refreshed my memory on the game, going behind to a Paul McKenna free-kick and Neil Shipperley levelling with an overhead-kick finish of a man two-stone lighter.

One thing I do remember clearly, though, is the winner. Being tiny and at the back of the Kop I couldn’t see much, but what I heard was clearer. I saw the ball fly into the box and then I saw plenty of backs of heads and heard a roar of ecstasy.

I remember turning to my sister, just as confused as me, to try and figure out what happened. My first childhood hero (that wasn’t a Power Ranger) Danny Webber had won the game in the last minute, sending the Kop crazy! As my dad lifted me, I saw the pitch in full for the first time.

My mind was made up from then on. This football stuff seemed alright. “Dad, when’s the next game?”

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