My Favourite Game: Reading 3 Hull City 1, November 19, 2005

"Enjoy this. Because you'll probably never see anything like it again."

With every year that passes, my dad's words to me during one game in Reading's record-breaking 2005/06 season become more and more accurate.

It is somewhat disheartening knowing, at that time, deep deep down, as a 15-year-old you are likely seeing something that your club will never better. Better than any generation of your family so far has seen and better than any future generations might see. Indeed, that, coupled with all the other baggage that comes with supporting a football club these days, has probably left me with a growing amount of ennui. 

But, much like every night out beginning with the remote and vague but possible of recreating that one perfect piss-up from so many moons ago, it's the hope that keeps you coming back. 

There are so many glorious matches to pick out from that season - the Crystal Palace five-goal thriller, the top-of-the-table victory over a Neil Warnock-led Sheffield United, 13 goals in eight days over Christmas, countless pummellings, and the trio of glories of promotion at Leicester, securing the title at home to Derby and the points record at home to QPR 

But my favourite game is none of these. It isn't even what I would argue was the best performance of the season - the late-January 4-0 eviseration of a decent Norwich side who were barely allowed a forward step, let alone being able to lay a glove. 

No, my favourite is what looks, on-paper, a routine 3-1 win at home to Hull City on November 19. It is the fact it was routine is what makes it do astounding.

As any fan of an average football club knows, disaster is around the corner - dominance only creates foreboding.

But, this game, proved the 05/06 season was different. 

Reading took the lead early through Bobby Convey before Nicky Barmby equalised ten minutes into the second half, completely against the run of play. 

What followed was like a giant being jabbed sharply in the chest. Hull were dotted aside with two goals in a minute (one a glorious Kevin Doyle overhead kick from 16 yards out). It was like a boxer wearing one on their chin, stirring themselves and quickly restoring some order. 

The unbeaten record was stretched to 18 games.

Though strangely we were still a point behind leaders Sheffield United, it was not even the end of November and promotion already felt inevitable. The rest of the season was now something to savour. 

I cannot remember now after which game my dad said the above words to me. But this one feels appropriate.