Growing up in the East Midlands, rugby meant Union and more pertinently it meant it was too muddy to play football.

I never took any interest in either code until I met some friends through going camping who were Bulls fanatics. This was in 2004. One afternoon in 2005 we were visiting them and they asked if we'd like to tag along to a match (Fev away in the cup). After about 15 minutes I was hooked. I went to pretty much every game that season including Old Trafford.



Season ticket holder for a few seasons until life got in the way but I still get to as many games as I can despite the 160 mile round trip. I'm looking forward to seeing a few new venues this year as well as hopefully seeing us get back to winning ways

I must say that watching your first game somewhere like Post Office Road must be truly mind-blowing, as you stand so close to the play, you can almost feel the hits, the players look huge, and you can hear the impacts and get a far better impression of the speed and especially the sheer physicality of the game.



I converted to the Bulls when Bradford Park Avenue were kicked out of the football league. Switching to the enemy was totally out of the question, so with a couple of mates we switched to full-time Northern fans, though I had been to plenty of games at odsal before, but that season we started going to away games and I think it was mainly the breathtaking impression that the game made on me at close quarters at places like Fev or Thrum Hall that got me hooked.

Always enjoyed the game on the BBC as a kid, but coming from a Southern football family, I never got around to choosing a team. Usually, my innate sense of supporting underdogs meant cheering for whoever was playing Wigan.



Moved to Bradford for university in 1993 and went to see my first game (Wigan in the fog) that year. Got to quite a few games during that time, moved to France, and then back and got to more.



I'm long gone from the area now and get to the odd match. Love and admire the whole sport (I never played, but did play union), but it's always been my second love, behind football.



I'm often jealous of all of your histories with the club and your immersion from early ages. I wish I had that affinity (it's so much more admirable than football), but I suppose the flip side is that the last few years haven't cut me as deep as most of you.

Its always just been kinda what my family does, my great grandad went pre war, took my grandad. My grandad (who helped in a small way when the club reformed in the 60's and was in the world record Odsal crowd after walking in over a fence that had fallen down along with hundreds of others!) took my dad. My dad took me, apparently my first games were around 1986ish when I was 10, but I dont remember much of that other than spending the match days messing around on the grass banks (pretty sure I must have only got to go when the weather was good at that early age as I only remember sunny Odsal and dry grass from those early days!!)



I started going to actually watch the rugby (including rain/fog and snow) around 1990/1991, with 1992/1993 probably being my first full home season with the leeds and Halifax away games. Ironically it was when I went away to Uni in York in 94 that I realised what I missed and started going home and away with a season ticket from then on, travelling from Uni each week either home or away.



Now I dont live near Bradford and have a young family so getting to games is a lot harder, I still go with my dad and still get a season ticket each year (although not bought one yet this season) but generally lose money on it as I cant get to every home game. But my biggest regret of recent years is not getting to as many away games, I used to prefer the away trips, but now I have to pick and choose well in advance and last year only got to 2 away matches. Hoping to do more this year as there are some grounds I've not been to before.



Last season I took my two girls (7 and 9) to their first matches (at their request), they loved it, but not being in the area Im not sure how long they'll want to carry on going - but they did want to go to last weeks friendly game at Cas and are coming to the first home game of the season so we'll see, my family line of support from pre war might yet continue a little longer!

Exactly as you describe. I remember Stu Fielden having a great game and were behind the sticks for a lot of tries (we put 80+ past them IIRC). It was a great introduction to the Greatest Game

My dad started taking me when I was a young kid in the early 70s and been going ever since. I remember I was deemed too young to go to Wembley in 73, so my dad and brother went and I watched it on Grandstand. Keith Mumby and Dave Redfearn were always my heroes growing up in the 70s



I did exactly the same with my lad,started taking him when he was about 2, he obviously didn't know much what was going on but I felt the need to repeat what my dad did with me. My lad was born in 96, just as Bullmania took off so he had all the baby wear they sold in the shop, I can remember a baby grow he had " Born to be a Bull" on it,got that one wrong ha



Northern/Bulls has been the biggest love of my life (1st wife included)

1967 Australia v Northern lost 7 3, sat with a group of mates at the top of the banking at the far end of the ground and thought wow. Enjoyed the independence of going age 10 or 11, including a weekday CC match with Trinity at Headingley (Odsal was snow bound) where a friend and I went from the city centre on a special bus with no parents. Could that happen now, probably not! Followed them through thick & thin, hope the good times of SL can return for youngest son who was just too late for trophy wins and grandsons now on the scene. Apart from family biggest passion, shared my love of Northern/Bulls all over Europe & North America on travels!

You're right about the 10 & 11 year olds not travelling away unaccompanied. I went on the train to see Northern play York about that age, beans and chips in Woolworths before the game and back home at bedtime.

I was an " Avenue fan" through and through,but had been to a few games at Odsal around the reformation time,but once Avenue sold Kevin Hector to Derby in 1966,that was me GONE to Odsal and I never looked back.Earliest memories Lionel Williamson,Smales,Stockwell,George Ambrum,Berwyn Jones,Terry Price,Terry Clawson.Johnny Rae,Ken Roberts,Peter Goddard,The Fish and the VASTNESS of the Odsal Bowl walking in as a 12/13 year old and the noise of the crowd below as you walked round the top and rushing to the steps at the end of the game to give the Ref what for.

Great times.

I also was an Avenue fan, (Kevin Hector, Bert Gebbie) and all those old players. My dad took me to see "A real man's sport" and I will always remember Peter Goddard charging through the tackles...He was the biggest man I had ever seen..I was thrilled by the action and never looked back.. A Few weeks later I met another player who was even bigger...Albert Halsall who played for either Rochdale or Huyton? I forget which one, but after the match in the bar he bought me a Orange drink and then talked to my dad...Waaa he was my hero from then onward. Advancing on, I played a couple of matched for the U19's and in one of the matches someone from the Castleford side wanted to beat me to a pulp, but we had Frank Foster playing, coming back from injury....He had a quiet word and all was OK. My highlight was playing against Castleford (again) and scoring my one and only try....My mind went blank, I charged through them and fell over the try line....then got crushed in a bear hug by the young Francis Jarvis....Afterwards, I realized I never had it in me to even want to become full time, so got a good job, discovered what girl's can do to you, and so, been a fan ever since....

lol,Frank Foster.Northern had wanted to drop Frank for weeks,but no one dared tell him.

A hard man in any era.

"Rushing to the steps" bloody hummer, that brought back memories for me..one in particular. After the infamous battle between Northern and Wires I rushed up the steps to watch the officials and players ascend to the dressing rooms. It was all mayhem coming up and this stupid T*** in front of me took a swing at Dave Chisnall who was with the other wire prop(Pickles?) walking up. Chisnall turned around and looked straight at me !! then came towards me...that's when the code of not squealing disappeared from my itinerary.. I remember bleating "it wasn't me, it was him" but the t*** has gone...Luckily Brian Butler was behind them and told them to forget it....I really thought I had crapped myself...

About 15 years ago I met Brian again when he was the site Engineering foreman at Ammensford Open cast mine in Wales and we had a chuckle about it all. He looked just like Santa Claus with his big long white beard and .....Bottle Glasses... Ahhhh memories.....