At the risk of starting my second article in the same vein as my first – by spouting a cliché – supporting a football club has often been compared to a marriage. You fall in love with a team and, although you will have hard times when you question why you’re together, the good times will remind you why you fell in love and you’ll stick together.

However, this is something of an outdated metaphor and we live in times where we all see marriages breaking up all around us with alarming regularity. So, if the football team you have loved for 30 years is your ‘wife’. Is it OK to have a ‘bit-on-the side’?

Living in a place like Peterborough, where the local team has languished in the bottom two divisions for a large part of it’s recent history, it’s something I see a lot of “Oh, I support Posh, but I’m also a Man Utd/Liverpool/Arsenal/Chelsea supporter”. Notwithstanding the inevitable arguments of “So how many times have you actually been to Old Trafford?” etc. For these supporters, clearly the wife is lacking somewhat in the glamour stakes and they have clearly taken on a ‘mistress’.

For me, however, it’s been the other way around. I grew up supporting Forest in the glorious Clough days, but adopted little struggling Peterborough United when I moved here 7 years ago. They were, now, my local side, and I found myself watching them with more regularity than I could get to the City Ground, not least because I took a job with them as a hi-vis match-day nazi, to help pay for my wedding. It was also hard not to feel some level of support for them as, even though they toiled away in the bottom division, with luminaries such as Trevor Benjamin playing up front, they still tried to play the game on the floor, the way I was brought up to believe the game should be played. A stark contrast to the ugly football Gary Megson was ushering in up the A1 at the City Ground.

Suddenly, coinciding with overseas property magnate Darragh MacAnthony’s investment in the club, this unfashionable little club, with an outdated ground but ambitious plans for the future were in danger of rivalling Forest’s place in my affections – whilst no-one could ever accuse me of being a ‘glory hunter’ Colin Calderwood’s side lurched from one unconvincing season to another, leaving the glory days of Clough, or even the slick passing of Paul Hart’s side as distant memories, Darren Ferguson was building a side well versed in the brand of exciting attacking football more often associated with the Garibaldi… and frustratingly, they were doing so by bringing in players from non-league football. Why hadn’t Forest spotted these diamonds in the rough? Why could Posh find a George Boyd, while Forest had to make do with James Perch as a winger?

These were testing times for my faith in ‘the wife’, however, much like any good affair, the wife and the mistress never seemed to meet, being in different leagues and avoiding each other in cup competitions. Until, that is, a Johnstone’s Paint Trophy match in 2007. Largely for convenience, I travelled down on a Posh coach and sat with the away fans in the City Ground. This match held little significance for the supporters of Forest, there were barely enough home fans to fill the Main Stand, with the Brian Clough and Trent End not even open. But inside me a war was waging, as I was no longer completely sure who I was even supporting.

Forest as a team clearly weren’t too concerned with this match, as not only did it mark Alan Power’s one and only first team appearance, the players didn’t seem to put up too much of a fight, going down to a 3-2 victory. But travelling back to Peterborough, on a coach full of ecstatic Posh supporters, I couldn’t help but feel completely gutted that Forest had lost. And then the realisation dawned – no matter how bad that Calderwood-picked team looked, how far we had fallen from our glory days – I was Forest through and through and always would be, no matter how tempting other options may seem.

Since that day, I’ve been to see Forest play Posh twice more – once at London Road (and may I say, nothing is quite as enjoyable as celebrating a winning goal in a proper old-school terrace), and once at the City Ground, both this season. I’ve never felt the need to question my allegiance again and I’m not totally convinced the only reason for that is our newfound winning mentality under Billy Davies.

Although I still feel something for Posh – I’d like them to beat any team other than Forest, they’ll only ever be my ‘bit-on-the-side’. Forest are my wife and I’ll love her/them until the day I die, through the good times and the bad times.