Last weekend, I donned my leg warmers, a ra ra skirt and a T-shirt emblazoned with 'I heart the 80s' as '80s themed club 'Reflex' turned to 90s inspired 'Babylon'.
And somewhere between the Dirty Dancing Megamix and the Baywatch theme tune, I got thinking about football.
It's a tenuous link I know but my mind works in weird and wonderful ways!
In general, the 1980s were a time for excess. The hair was big, the shorts were excessively tiny and the camp factor was high.
For the Boro however, the 1980s were all about regeneration.
Middlesbrough Football Club in its current incarnation was 'born' in the 1980s - 1986 to be exact, the year before I was born.
So, whilst I was taking my first wobbly steps - that mammoth trek from 'sofa' to 'mum' - MFC were taking their first steps to recovery.
It is not an exaggeration to say that I was a Boro fan from birth. My mum read to us when she was pregnant, she played us music and she diligently educated us that when we emerged into the world, we would be supporting the Boro.
It all stuck, two of the three of us read obsessively, we all listen to '80s music and we all support the Boro.
My 'little' brother (at six foot five, he is now more a man mountain than the cherubic blonde child who used to follow me around all the time) is currently fruit-picking his way around Australia but every weekend, without fail, he texts a question mark which means 'What was the score?'
Recently, I have been putting off replying, using the different time zones as an excuse. When he is enjoying the sunshine he really does not need to know immediately that Boro conceded yet another set piece or last minute goal.
Because there is only two years difference in age between us and I'm the middle child, I have always been close to my brother and sister.
As a typical boy, my brother was obsessed with football, although not necessarily the Boro!
My brother's chosen team depended week to week on who his friends were supporting, who had the shiniest stickers and which club's pencil case was most popular in the classroom.
I vividly remember him as a tiny blonde child with an old fashioned autograph book standing outside stadiums determined to meet his heroes, and at some point I started to pay more attention.
Whilst my little brother was glory supporting his way through the Premier League - like drawing on walls or crying over spilt juice, this is only acceptable in small children - I was a typical girly girl.
Apart from a slight obsession with Thundercats and Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles, I liked Barbies, wanted to be Kylie Minogue when I grew up (I always knew I would stay short!) and thought football was a bit pointless.
This was mainly because I could only remember seeing matches on TV and I quickly got bored of watching the little men run after the little ball.
In my opinion, the invention of widescreen TVs has done a lot for football because trying to watch a match on an old fashioned twelve inch screen is an excruciating experience!
As the posters of Kylie and Jason (why couldn't they make it work?!) were replaced by obscure boy bands such as Bad Boys Inc, there was a new decade and a new man at the helm of Middlesbrough Football Club.
The late 1980s and early 1990s were something of a rollercoaster for MFC. We were up and down like a yo-yo. We were relegated and promoted, progressed in the cup competitions enough to reach the 1997 Coca Cola Cup Final and in 1999 we secured a top ten finish, a first for the club in over two decades.
In 1991, Colin Todd resigned and Lennie Lawrence took over. In all honesty this is the first Boro team that I really remember. I had the team poster on the wall above my bed and memorised the players. Alan Kernaghan, John Hendrie, Tony Mowbray, Robbie Mustoe.
I remember Roary the Lion coming to my school and Jamie Pollock opening the village fete opposite my house. I remember going to shop signing sessions to see players like Derek Whyte and Curtis Fleming and later Franck Queudrue. However, I cannot remember the first match I went to.
I no longer have the team poster on my wall (although I now have quite a collection of them which were kindly given to me at various events with the players), but I do have this season's calendar signed by the majority of the team. I also own a notebook signed by Martin O'Neill, John Hendrie and Craig Hignett at a charity dinner last year.
I sincerely hope it does not take another relegation to kick start Boro's revival and I'm actually starting to feel quite hopeful again, although whether this is because the team is improving or just my cock-eyed natural optimism, I'm not sure!
Regardless, I'm in for the long haul. The music may fade away, the fashions may change and come back round again but as we put away childish things, our passions only grow stronger and the Boro are in my blood.
First published on www.ComeOnBoro.com on 18/2/2009
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