But what happens when said reason to believe is shattered? What happens when the famous figures we thought we could trust turn out to be less than trustworthy? What happens when it feels like we can no longer dare to dream?
For me, it's the moments where confidence, belief and satisfaction are so suddenly transformed into disappointment, or even betrayal, that stand out for me most.
And so, let me take you back in time through some of the most notable of these moments. In chronological order of course. Starting with:
THAT DISASTROUS DAY AT THE DELL
When we look back at the 1996/97 season, we like to talk about the Brazilian magic and Fabrizio Ravanelli's goals, rather than the imbalance of the squad, Bryan Robson's tactical naïveté and our mostly porous defending. We had kept the negative aspects of our squad hidden thanks to some simply amazing all out attacking play that had seen us into the European places by the middle of September 1996. I still remember the platitudes poured on us in those days, such as "Middlesbrough are red hot and nothing, it seems, can stop them". I can even recall my much younger self humming along to Shed Seven's "Getting Better" after every Boro win that month, and there were quite a few of those. Ah, those were the days.

THE MAGIC MAN DISAPPEARS
I thought I understood Paul Merson while he was at Boro. Sure, he'd had drinking problems in the past. Sure, his very early days at Boro were a little nightmarish. But once settled, he became the outstanding player in the second tier, rarely having a bad game for us. All while regularly praising the virtues of the club. (A warning sign, perhaps?) I was completely convinced that he could lead us to even greater things back in the Premiership - even more so after he signed a deal committing himself to the club for life. All the more staggering, to me anyway, that he suddenly performed a U-Turn, began to talk us down, and became an Aston Villa player within a week. But hey, at least we made a profit from him, right? Still, the manner of his exit rankles with me to this day.
"McCLAREN TO LEEDS"

THE AFTERMATH OF EINDHOVEN
To this day, I'm not sure why I hung around to see the lads pick up their losers' medals and watch Seville collect the trophy that we could have won. We had managed to paper over the cracks of what really was a very disappointing season in the Premiership - a 14th place finish - with two memorable cup runs and a couple of spectacular wins over the league's top two sides. Indeed, "papering over the cracks" and "timing" were everything to Steve McClaren that season. It just so happened that he was looking good at the right time - when the FA needed to appoint a new boss. Never mind that by season's end, he had left us with an ageing, disjointed, directionless side without European football for the following season - he still came out smelling like roses. Meanwhile, the damaging effects of his reign were sinking in, as I wondered how long it would be before we'd experience a European final again.
MY FIRST VISIT TO THE RIVERSIDE


It's a well known fact that the Boro always tend to let you down, but surely - surely - at home, with a full crowd to roar us on, we could take full advantage of our best ever chance to win the FA Cup against a side from a lower division? I genuinely think this was the day when our faith in both the team and Gareth Southgate was shattered, as the "occasion" came across as a feeble attempt to replicate the "magic" of the Steaua match without the depth of squad or, more importantly, the goals. Ah yes, where were they? The fact that the whole nation was watching us on the BBC deepened the embarrassment.
SOUTHGATE SACKED - AND GIBSON EXPOSED

If only that was the end of it. Walsh revealed that we were crippled by a huge debt (a la Leeds!) and had been living beyond our means for years. And that all the major foreign stars - Ravanelli, Emerson, Merson, Boksic, even Juninho - had used us to make a buck. Up until now, we had had the consolation of Gibson's benevolence. But his, and Lamb's, actions, coupled with the realities of the Riverside Revolution, meant that we could never wholly trust in them again.
* * * * *
Now, can Mogga restore our reason to believe in the upcoming games? Starting with Coventry?
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