Fans
By Steve Sharp
My first experience of going to a professional football match was on a cold afternoon at Boothferry Park, home to Hull City, to see a dismal, nil, nil draw. My dad and I cycled there and after chaining our bikes to a lamppost, joined my uncle and cousin on the terraces. No seating, just a rail to lean on, or swing from.
This was Third Division stuff, but to me there was an intoxicating atmosphere with the modest crowd singing, cheering, swinging their rattles and shouting mild obscenities at the ref. “Get some new glasses four eyes!”
This was cheap working class entertainment, the stadium having few seating areas with the notable exception of the director's box filled with portly gents.
Lads like me were allowed to wander about the terraces and get close to the pitch and close to the action.
Regular visits to see the Tigers play created an affection and loyalty that defines a fan. I had to become one.
When I was 16 the Tigers played Chelsea in the sixth round of the FA cup, and they managed to snatch a 2-2 draw at Stamford Bridge.
On the night of the replay at Boothferry Park, we climbed the steps to the crest of the stadium and found the place packed and the atmosphere electric. This was a whole different ball game!
Like many youngsters, I was lifted over the low barrier onto the edge of the pitch where we sat cross legged in awe. The police and officials encouraged it as clearly the stadium was bursting at the seams. But despite this melee and the chanting of the away fans, the whole thing was good natured.
The Chelsea stars, including Terry Venables and Peter Osgood, were too good and we lost 3-1.
I made a secret promise to myself that night that if my plan to move to London came to pass, I would support Chelsea. Secret, because surely it was considered heresy not to follow your home team through thick and thin if you're a real fan. Two years later, my plan came to fruition, and I moved to London, never to return.
I fessed up to my dad about the Chelsea thing and he agreed that supporting Hull City was less than thick and thin….and more like thin and thin and, that football should be about entertainment, not endurance. Go and enjoy yourself. Permission granted from a real lifelong fan.
To this day I still check the scores, and if there's a Tigers game on TV, I will watch it.
In fact, they did have a purple patch, and reached the FA Cup final at Wembley in 2014. I went along as a guest of a mate who had also sat on the edge of the pitch all those years earlier.
The closest the Tigers ever came to a big prize. Two nil up after 10 minutes. They were beaten 3-2 by a goal in the 109th minute.
Being a fan of any club, team, game, or country can sometimes be hard work, or bring great excitement, even euphoria.
Whether it's football, cricket, or rugby, our national teams can and do win major tournaments …or disappoint us in the extreme.
I'm English, so of course I support England and that’s certainly true of the Rugby World Cup. But I am married to a Kiwi and my wife has only ever needed to support one team. The All Blacks.
It's amazing how much respect and affection the team is held in by supporters of many nations.
Two years ago, we booked World Cup tickets to see them play Italy in Lyon. The atmosphere at the fan zone in the city centre and at the stadium were a celebration of what what’s great about being a fan.
Many ‘neutrals’ bought All Blacks T-shirts and became fans for the day. Because it's good. And why not?
A fantastic, harmonising, friendly affair. A far cry from the nasty reality of some misguided hooligans found at football matches, which can make you embarrassed to be a fan of a team or even your own country.
We were fortunate to see the players at breakfast on the morning of the match, and for Kate to meet some of her heroes.
Nice guys. Boy, do they eat a lot of eggs!
Image Source: Brighton Pier
Yes, New Zealand beat Italy 96-17. But it was a joyous celebration of sport and friendship.
Should by some miracle, the All Blacks meet England in the final. I trust that the same harmonious atmosphere will fill our living room!
Steve