Have you ever sat staring at a plate of food either at a restaurant, or at a friend’s house wondering what it all means? You sit at the food as if it’s not there, fork making moats for gravy in mash potatoes while you ponder the fate you’ve been dealt. If not, let me tell you how it is here as an American West Ham fan in the late days of November.
As I sit here looking at a full plate of an American Thanksgiving dinner, topped with roast turkey, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, roast carrots, mashed potatoes and brown gravy, and cranberry sauce – an offering of culinary heartland treasures only bested by an English breakfast in size and caloric intake – I can’t help but be forced by this holiday to think of what I’m thankful for in the midst of our current misery.
As we prepared to play Arsenal, I couldn’t help but be thankful that I was going to miss the match as I was at my sister’s house deep in the mountains of rural West Virginia where her 92 acres of land in the middle of nowhere separates her from a village of trailer homes (caravans) and connection to any signal that would give her cable in order for me to stream the dismal match.
I’ve chosen – or been chosen by – a team that constantly under performs, that floats in front of you such hopes of great heights and glory, but rips them away with the passing wind. A team that gives you a new manager and a bankroll to fill a whole squad but leaves you with a 2-5 scoreline where two goals aren’t even consolation which such a deficit.
But, like you, I can also say, West Ham entering my life has also provided some of the greatest joys I’ve had in these years. I’m thankful that in the brief moments when I get a signal today when I hike to the top of the snow dusted mountain, that I get a rush of commentary from two groups on WhatsApp.
The first group is the band of fellow writers at Blowing Bubbles Magazine, all the way across the Atlantic Ocean – some at the matches, some at their homes – making sly puns at West Ham’s playing ability, referencing historic moments of failure to cope with the current, or trading banter about Tottenham, even when we’re not playing them.
The other group is a bunch of Americans strewn about the countryside in states of New York, Colorado, Wyoming, Pennsylvania, Missouri, Minnesota – that group is filled with more cursings, harrowing tales of watching at local pubs, from hidden workplace screens, and random other locations that could be found from a iPhone and a Twitter feed.
I’m also thankful that I’ve made a convert of my friend David – a 90-year-old man who previously rooted for Man United, out of a general American ignorance to the Premier League. He has also made a convert of another old man known simply as ‘Glenn at the track’ who also followed Man United, but enjoyed taking on the West Ham misery mantel as it contains a more hopeful, more heart oriented meaning.
We now catch up on all the matches and I’ve brought them both souvenirs from across the pond when I visited. I’m thankful that I made friends of some traveling Brits who I met while hosting a West Ham watch party at a pub in New Orleans for the Conference League Final who now, because of our good fortune that day and a few pints of too much booze, have invited me to their holiday home on the coast of Spain.
Over the years I’ve met West Ham friends – now family – from Twitter, to a block off Barking Road when I asked for directions, in Las Vegas at a West Ham Way event, and on the terraces and in pubs of the greater London area.
I’ve been offered free pints, I’ve met Mark Noble and Declan Rice, and I’ve gotten a match day track jacket. I’ve also been given tickets and a lift to matches, I’ve hugged random fans when we’ve scored goals, I’ve shared tears at Mark Noble’s last match, and even kissed a girl at a pub, all due to the majesty and misery of the Claret and Blue.
So even if I may have become slightly jaded after years of following, going from once waking up at 5am to find a random stream of a summer friendly or buying a VPN app to stream from a tent in Norway, to now stuffing my face with…well stuffing glad to miss a game versus Arsenal, I will always be thankful for West Ham United entering my life, and no matter how our season is going, I bet you are too!
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