After eight long years of being on the season ticket waiting list, I was in a meeting on a Tuesday evening last month when an email popped up on my phone informing me that I had finally secured a ticket for a lifetime of pain, misery, anxiety and ecstasy.

That’s right, my time had come — I was top of the waiting list for my first season ticket for Leeds United. I was offered one by the club around four years ago in the East Upper and foolishly turned it down. Upon my realisation that I’d probably have to wait another four years for another chance, a stranger who overheard in The Peacock, rightly, suggested I was a “clown”.

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