My Ode to Wednesday

It was one fateful day when I was seven and the sun shone down on my small garden.
My neighbor was coming home from Hillsborough, that stadium I went past to go to my nans.
He told me of the game and how Owusu had scored with his first touch, and the joy of getting one oover your rivals.
I soon got interested, and was watching ITV's scores, cheering when the Owls scored, crying when the other team did.
Then came my first game, in the cold of December against that small team from Brighton.
It looked like despair, a 1-0 loss to the South Coasters
Then my first footballing hero, the mighty Shefki saved us from that loss.
I went to a few more, seeing the Owls get embarrased at Wolves ranks as one of the worst
Then I saw my first win. Camped up in the family stand, I saw Quinn score a marvellous free kick to help us beat Coventry 5-1.
It was a joyous day, and I screamed about it all night, and told everyone the next day at school.
I suffered relegation that painful time when every Owl lies down and weeps for the club that once was.
But I have also experienced promotion, a time of utter joy where your ambition is high, and nothing can stop you.
I've been told of the good times, when we were top of the football world thanks to Waddle and Sheridan
I've seen many managers take the dug outs from Yorath to Turner and Sturrock to Laws.
I've suffered derby defeat but also derby success, with Tudgay's screamer and Watson's lob.
I've been wound up by Blades, Hudders, Leeds and even Barnsley.
I've seen countless defeats, and countless missed opportunities.
I've almost seen my club go into administration.
But I don't care.
Because these are the Owls, the mighty Wednesday!
Its my team, Sheffield Wednesday.
The greatest team I'll ever know.