Born in 1992

Back in 1992, life felt like it was shifting gears, caught right between the old world and the new. You’d walk into any pub and hear the opening bars of The Shamen’s *Ebeneezer Goode* or Whitney Houston’s *I Will Always Love You* thumping away, while you nursed a pint of Boddingtons or maybe a cheeky Hooch if you were feeling modern. It was the year of the "Annus Horribilis," with Windsor Castle going up in flames, yet we were all glued to the telly for the very first episode of *Ballykissangel* or the high-stakes drama of *Gladiators* on a Saturday night.

The kids were obsessed with WWF Hasbro figures or trying to keep a Tamagotchi alive, though we spent most of our time out on our BMX bikes until the streetlights came on. Every cinema was packed out for *Wayne’s World* or *Basic Instinct*, and even though the economy felt a bit shaky after Black Wednesday, there was this brilliant, buzzing energy in the air. We’d spend our Sundays eating a proper roast with a side of over-boiled sprouts, oblivious to the fact that the Premier League was just beginning to change football forever.

It was a simpler time; messy, loud, and wonderfully British.