Since I can remember, football has touched my life. The earliest recollection of watching it came on FA Cup Final day 1977.
I was sat round my nan's house soaking up the pre-match episode of It’s A Knockout. Which at the age of four, was the real highlight of the day - before vaguely recalling the game itself. Somehow I was happy Manchester United overcame Liverpool.How times change. Not only do I despise both teams with an absolute passion, but the nation no longer stops for the Cup Final, like it did. Quite often it’s just another game. Often contested by two of the so called powerhouses that the majority of players have been fed up seeing each other matched up that season anyway.
Move on to to 1978. Again at my nan's, with three sports-mad uncles fuelling my growing love of sporting competition. I cheered when Ipswich beat Arsenal. I think my hatred of the Gunners was already ingrained. I recall being able to stay up late and watch as Peru humiliated Scotland. An array of long range shots, ticker tape and Archie Gemmill captivated me.
Football had me hooked from a very early age. Of course at that age nothing beat playing. From kickabouts at home, at my nan's, in the school playground., at the park. Watching was fun. Playing was even better.
Born in Plaistow, living in Canning Town then Stratford. Making frequent trips to my grandparent's house in East Ham. I was doomed by proxy to be West Ham.
As I established the correlation between my location, the game I loved and that huge, weirdly alluring building I used to pass on the S1 bus, then I was hooked into the Claret and Blue cult that came to define and dominate my life. In those informal kickabouts, I was Trevor Brooking. I covered ground like Billy Bonds and I aspired to be as silky footed as Alan Devonshire.
It being a different time I was forbidden to go to games. Let’s face it, I’ve never been graced with height. The terrace culture was not deemed safe for a short lad of seven. I had to watch us triumph in the FA Cup on TV, rely on Grandstand , The Big Match and Match of the Day to get my football fix. To see us every now and then romp the then Division 2, tackle Europe and then establish ourselves in the top flight.
Unbeknown to my parents, probably until now. I went to a few reserve games, before a family friend took me to the holy grail on Boxing Day 1983. Where we duly lost 1-0 to Southampton. But an obsession was born.
Not only was it an obsession, but a release. I loved the passion, the tribal nature, the chanting, the collective euphoria, the shares despair every bit as much as I loved the football itself. The atmosphere was intoxicating and addictive. I felt at home, safe, secure and at one with the people around me. For those who don’t get sport, football, it’s hard to explain and for them to comprehend but it’s a reality that many feel.
As time went on, I finally got the means to attend more regularly. The 1986/87 season was when things took off and the following seasons I barely missed a home game. Going with friends, on occasion alone I was smitten and obsessed.
Football was my life, my release, my constant. West Ham my love.
Life moves on. As you age, different challenges are presented to you. I was blessed to live a happy childhood. I have wonderful parents, a supportive family, and good friends. But things change.
From almost out of nowhere the realities of life can set upon you. The education system can be a harsh environment. When you leave it the working world becomes a factor. In order to do the things you enjoy a job and money are essential. For an introvert it’s not easy to adjust.
But football was my life, my release, my constant. West Ham my love.
You grow as a person. With age comes a change of focus. Responsibilities, relationships, relocations happen. Growing up isn’t easy. Things creak, break, splinter, develop faults. Physically, mentally, emotionally. The pressure of a fast-paced, modern life can tire even the most hardy of souls.
But throughout football was my life, my release, my constant. West Ham my love.
Key stages of my life I can recall through not dates but games. First date. The aftermath of losing 6-0 to Oldham. First break-up, 1–1 home to Portsmouth. First real experience of bereavement a 1-0 win at White Hart Lane. Conception of my first child 4-1 win over Manchester City. Marriage? A goalless draw the following day at Stoke.
West Ham United has been the soundtrack to my life. When times have been tough off the pitch then it’s helped ease me through, offering me a release, a welcome focus. Even the darkest of days, the darkest of moods have been aided by distracting myself and throwing myself into the complex world of West Ham.
Take heart, take comfort, take time to enjoy what eases your soul. Life is too short not to enjoy. A misplaced pass isn’t a boiling point, a missed open goal not a trigger. It’s a moment in time to be looked back on, laughed at and wonder how at the age of 52 and immobile I’m not getting in the side in front of the offenders.
I’m a lucky man in a lot of respects. Friends, family, to lean on and love. I know there are many out there as fortunate. When times are dark there’s a list of resources here you can seek help from the opening post of this thread.
And please take a moment to watch this and admire the wonderful work of Alice Hendy, below.
Football is a distraction, a release, a constant. West Ham, our love and bond.
* Like to share your thoughts on this article? Please visit the KUMB Forum to leave a comment.
* Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the highlighted author/s and do not necessarily represent or reflect the official policy or position of KUMB.com.
