(CNN)Around the age of 16, I arrived at an uncomfortable conclusion: As a Manchester United fan from London, I was among the most hated demographics in English football.
Like so many '90s kids, I'd been sucked in by the glamor of the era's most successful Premier League club. Each night, I closed my United curtains and slept beneath club-themed bedsheets.
Posters of striker Andy Cole and goalkeeper Peter Schmeichel looked down at me from the walls. It was a childhood of continuous triumph as my heroes swept to title after title.
Except I dreaded being asked which team I supported. Having never visited Manchester, let alone seen the inside of Old Trafford, I was the punchline to endless "southerner" jokes and subjected to that most dishonorable of British sporting insults: glory hunter.
And rightly so. With an abundance of west London teams to choose from -- Chelsea, Fulham or Queens Park Rangers, for instance -- I'd used my mother's birthplace as a shortcut to success.
Die-hard fans might begrudgingly accept Saudi or Singaporean supporters picking a Premier League team at random, but there is no such sympathy for the English. You choose your local team, or you're probably a glory hunter.
The ugly game
So, on a cold, wet Saturday in 2004 -- January 31, to be precise -- I tried to put things right.
Roping in two friends, I took the short bus ride to Griffin Park, home of my local team: Brentford FC. Along with 4,000 fans, we watched the lowly Bees pick up their first win in over two months against Port Vale.
Playing out in England's third tier, then called Division Two, the game was ugly and the goals scrappy. One of the dilapidated stands didn't even have a roof -- and those that did offered little protection from the rain anyway.
Choose your seat unwisely, and you'd be stuck watching the game from behind an old metal beam holding up the century-old stadium.
This must be the "real" football I'd heard so much about. And I was hooked. With kids' tickets sometimes costing as little as £5 (or $7, a fraction of the Premier League's extortionate prices), I vowed to return as often as I could.