I remember loitering around the turnstiles in the hope that some kind gentleman would offer to lift me over, even though I was clearly no longer in the appropriate age range. Then, a few years later, when I'd started uni, at one game a similar wee chancer asked me: "Gonnae gies a lift ouwer, Mister?" I was happy to oblige (though the wee bugger was much heavier than I expected), and after it felt that I'd just gone through a rite of passage; there was no escaping it, I was now an adult (though many might dispute that to this day).