Season Ticket holder Gareth Rogers says goodbye to Fortress Ninian.
It's like driving past a car crash.
You don’t want to look, you know it will be traumatic, but you just can’t stop staring.
Watching our beloved Ninian Park being slowly torn to shreds is the closest to that analogy I have ever been.
Since the start of last season, the club were marketing 2009 as the End of and Era and after Christmas, we all took the time to take our last photos and savour the Ninian experience.
On a sunny day, on a dark night, being soaked on the Bob Bank terrace or crushed on the Grange End one last time.
The last derby, the last cup tie, it almost seemed like overkill.
But even the damp squib of a closing ceremony against Ipswich and the hastily arranged End of Ninian six-a-side tournament could not prepare me for what I have seen in the last few weeks.
After watching footage of the Grandstand roof and floodlights coming down, I have found myself making de-tours down Sloper Road on my way out of town lately, just to see the latest mangled mess.
During one of these pilgrimages, my girlfriend, God bless her, said to me, "Well the new stadium looks a lot better."
Common sense I know, but life is not as simple as that.
How would she feel if I was to simply swap her for a newer shinier model?
But it’s not her fault. It’s not even the board or the chairman’s fault.
I can see that the stadium has launched City into the higher echelons of Championship clubs.
Just a few weeks ago, I visited the mighty Bramall Lane, which for decades held grandeur over Ninian. Now I think it’s an absolute shithole.
I had a similar experience on an early season trip to Home Park, Plymouth, and now even Premier League grounds like Craven Cottage and St Andrews look poor in comparison.
But all of this can not stop me pining for my first love.
I admit I was close to tears on the walk to Sunday’s game against Forest and there was there an even bigger lump in my throat when I saw Gabby (Yorath) Logan stood on the crumbling Bob Bank at the start of the BBC’s live coverage of the game.
But why am I a victim of the over-sentimental madness?
To me, it’s quite simple.
I first sat on the back wall of the Bob Bank as a spotty Chicken Pox ridden four-year-old to see us draw with Wolves.
Since then, memories like going onto the pitch for the first time after beating Crewe, Swansea fans throwing chairs around the Grandstand, Pikey’s late equaliser against Admira Wacker, Blakey's wonder goal against Man City and the day I scored in front of the Canton Stand at half time are all treasured and will be tough to replicate.
Don’t get me wrong, I'm not against new stadiums and I think at it's loudest, the Cardiff City Stadium (I'm still outraged by the name) creates more noise than my beloved Bob Bank.
But on the other side of the coin, when it is quiet, and it seems to be too often, you can hear the ball bouncing on the turf and the sound of crunching tackles going in an atmosphere akin to a parks game, while Ninian seemed (to me) to posess a buzz that rarely dropped.
Having been to Coventry's Ricoh Arena several times, I would be devastated if the atmosphere at Cardiff ever stoops to those depths.
Obviously the terracing has gone and as a shorty I get a much better view from my half way line Ninian Stand seat, but I would swap it all to be squashed onto the Bob Bank terrace for one more cold January cup tie.
Sadly, it seems the Ninian demolition is going to be dragged out over a few more weeks and months as the Canton, Grange End and
Bob Bank are tugged down, one by one and every time I take the train through Ninian Park Station I will be faced with what feels like the slow demise of a family member.
But I am sure that once it is gone, we will all be able to look forward to the Premier League in our shiny new home and we can be guilt-free in indulging in Mr Ridsdale's latest generous season ticket offer.
But for now, I would like a little time to myself while I grieve for one of my oldest friends.
