Townsend to Saunders to Atkinson to delirium.
March 27 1994.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzd0pmtFTsI
It took me all of 26 minutes of my first football game to decide.
I sat down as a clueless five-year-old with two United-supporting brothers and loved their misery. I thought it was just a wind-up at first that I'd roar for the other the team but, as Wembley was left rocking on its hinges, fans draped in claret and blue falling over themselves at the sight of every one of Atkinson's jinks, it was hard to see how you could support another team.
It was hard to see how the entire world wasn't transfixed by Aston Villa and their electric number 10. It was hard to see how this wasn't the centre of the universe.
There and then, I might as well have been the fabled alien from another planet landing on this earth and being taught about football from scratch. And, there and then, only one man was standing out. Only one man was shining. Only one man was ready to teach the unconverted and, by God, how he lectured us.
https://twitter.com/mattlyynch/status/765125692803735552
You know, you don't get many big days as a Villa fan - I've learned that since. Thanks a lot, Dalian.
The ones you do get, you remember. You cherish. You hold on to petty things like leading United for a while in the 2010 League Cup decider and how Vidic should've been f**king sent off.
You hang tight to the 2015 FA Cup semi-final, beating Liverpool. Villa players outplaying them, simple as that.
And you sure as hell never forget the day Dalian Atkinson helped deliver the club's second last major trophy. You don't forget the times he made Gary Pallister look like a mug or left Les Sealey scrambling for fresh air.
You remember forever your first football match, the first bragging rights you earned over your elder siblings, and the first time you were inspired by a sportsman playing without fear or inhibition. Playing with pure magic in his boots.
You remember forever Dalian Atkinson putting the ball in the United net.
https://twitter.com/AVFCOfficial/status/765153261594742784
The 48-year-old's passing seems unfair and untimely. Most people are only starting to make their mark on this world at that stage and it's been taken away from him.
In his short time though, he did leave a legacy. He left a trail of memories just because of the freedom with which he waltzed around a football pitch; just because of the joy he brought to the eyes of Villa fans.
In his own right, he leaves this world as a legend of sorts to the Holte End.
When anyone sees that classically striped Villa jersey with the Muller Yogurt logo planted across it, they'll of Dalian Atkinson.
They'll think of his skills and his adventure, and they'll think of him darting in behind Steve Bruce and Gary Pallister to cause absolute pandemonium in Wembley.
They'll think of fun and fearlessness. They'll think of football how it's supposed to be played.
For me, I think of my first ever match. I think of my first ever hero.
I think of the first time I ever looked at a man and thought that I want to do exactly what he's doing.
Rest in peace, Dalian. We haven't had many players like you.
