BY ANDREW NAPIER / @
The rain was lashing against the windows as the train pulled into Liverpool Street. The smoke from the engine drifted past, the station lights twinkled and the screech from the brakes as we slowed to a standstill all added to the excitement.
I had absolutely no regrets leaving the wastelands of Norfolk. Being away from my sister and not being able to take off my socks was obviously going to be difficult, but I was an 18-year-old ready for the next chapter in his life.
Then there was the football. My dad wasn't interested in football when I was growing up but then when your local team is plying its trade in Division 3 South I guess the 50-mile round trip isn't that appealing. He did join me in front of our flickery black and white TV to watch the World Cup final and even my Mum let out a little yelp when England won. It was the loudest I'd ever heard her scream and my bedroom was right next to my parents'.