First game ever is probably some Avellino-Juve around 1984..
First with a tangible, indelible memory thereof is Heysel...the day after rather than the game itself though.
Then there's that first Juve game I watched where, at some point, probably around the 24th minute, I seemed to hear a vague sound, and then a murmur, and then finally a voice, a clear, growing voice coming from deep inside, and it was telling me something along these lines :
"Hello, friend, are you enjoying this mild November night? Oh, looking at that Casiraghi-Schillaci duo, are you? It's all good. Hey, was that a Bob Tricella tackle? It was, was it not? Look! Number 10 tried an assist there! Sasha Zavarov, right? Sasha Zavarov, none other!....(...).....Listen, my good friend, if you don't mind me asking, may I? Great. So I was wondering, and I hope Im not being intrusive here, but...what did you do last night? You watched the Kaiser muzzling El Buitre? Is that so? And then you witnessed your man Franky Rijkaard flooring Real, yet again? Fine, very fine. What's that? It was a fooking brilliant header, with the Franky man swooping down on Sanchis and some lanky kid named Hierro like an Andean condor on a nest of doves? Really? You don't say. And then Van Basten nailed it, in Swanesque fashion? Hehe, typical, my friend, very typical indeed...(...)...But...sorry to interrupt again, my good friend, but...there's one but....one more thing I need to know...it's this one thing that's bothering me somewhat, and it won't go away, unless I ask you this question....I just really need to know, so I am now asking you, this is the moment, and I am asking you why. Why. Just WHY the fuck are you watching Giuve-Karl Marx Stadt then?"
UEFA Cup 1989-90.