There are obvious logical arguments for a new stadium.
But football is not purely about logic. Even when we’re rubbish, there’s something very special about a match day for me.
I leave our house at 11:30 and set off walking through Crookes. Nip in to Beres for a jumbo with stuffing and crackling, and eat that on my way down the hill.
Eventually I come around the corner opposite Whitehouse Lane on Walkley Lane and I can see right across Hillsborough to the Park and the stadium in the distance.
I then cross the road and head down the little gennel to Hammerton Close, and follow Hammerton Road all the way down to opposite the Morrisons entrance.
Cross over Langsett Road and then head down Swamp Walk and Capel Street to the Barrack Tavern, where my mate and I sit in exactly the same spot we’ve sat for years, and we see all the other regulars too.
At about 2:30, we eventually head out and along Penistone Road to the stadium, and by that time it’s really busy with other people going the same way and there’s a buzz of anticipation.
If we were to move from Hillsborough, it would be as Roy Batty said in Blade Runner:
”All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.”