There was a time when matchday had a rhythm to it. A ritual. It wasn’t something you rushed. It was something you built your whole day around.
When we went to Upton Park, we’d always get there early. Not because we had to, but because we wanted to.
The walk down Green Street was part of the experience. The buzz started long before kick-off. Programme sellers shouting, scarves hanging from makeshift stalls, the smell of onions from the burger vans mixing with cigarette smoke and anticipation. It felt alive.
Traditions of the E13 Streets
We’d stop at either Ercan Fish Bar or Queens Fish Bar without fail. That was tradition. Proper chippy chips wrapped in paper, eaten standing up while talking about the team news.
It didn’t matter if we were playing a relegation rival or one of the so-called big six. It felt special every single time. There was a sense that you were heading somewhere sacred. Like you were part of something bigger.
The walk to the ground was soul-stirring because it felt authentic. It felt ours. Now? It’s different.
The Contrast of the London Stadium
We don’t go up early anymore. There’s no real reason to. The route to the London Stadium doesn’t build anticipation in the same way.
Walking through a shopping centre, past chain restaurants and retail stores, doesn’t quite spark the same emotion as Green Street once did. It doesn’t feel like you’re going to the football. It feels like you’re going to do a bit of weekend shopping.
There’s nowhere that feels like ‘our’ pub or ‘our’ chippy in the same way. Nowhere with the same character or history. The pre-match routine has slowly disappeared because the setting doesn’t invite you to linger. It doesn’t pull you in.
Disillusionment and the Corporate Shift
Even inside the stadium, it’s hard to recreate that old feeling. The food and drink prices are eye-watering, and there’s always that lingering frustration about where the money goes.
It’s difficult to justify spending more when many of us still feel disillusioned about how the move was handled in the first place. So we tend to head straight to our seats instead. In, watch the game, out.
That’s probably the biggest change. Matchday used to be an occasion. Now it’s an event.
A Ritual Replaced but the Love Remains
The walk to the ground isn’t quite the same soul-stirring experience it once was. It doesn’t tug at the heartstrings in the same way.
At Upton Park, the journey felt like a build-up to something sacred. The streets were lined with claret and blue, and you felt it in your chest.
Now the feeling tends to come later when the teams walk out, when the bubbles rise, when the crowd finds its voice. The football still matters. The badge still matters. But the ritual around it has changed.
Maybe that’s just football in 2026. Or maybe some places simply can’t be replaced. Either way, I still go. I still sing. I still care. But I do sometimes miss the chips on Green Street and that familiar, soul-stirring walk to our old home.
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