Why do you support Norwich? The Guru tells his story…
‘Why do you support Norwich?” If only I had £1 for each time somebody asks me that. I hear it pretty much every time I tell someone that I’m a City fan.
Ask most fans why they support the Canaries and you`ll probably hear the same few answers:
‘I always have’.
‘My Dad does’.
‘It’s in the family’.
My story is a little different. You see I wasn’t always a Norwich City fan. In fact technically I suppose the Yellows are the third team I’ve supported in my life.
Let`s start at the beginning. My Mum’s side of the family are from Arbroath in Scotland (naturally making them Rangers supporters) and historically my Dad’s side of the family are Arsenal supporters, so when I was younger I followed them (if it`s possible to ‘follow’ a team when you’re that young? I don’t know if it is).
That all changed on 24th April 1988 when Luton Town beat Arsenal 3-2 in the Littlewoods Cup Final at Wembley.
I watched the game at my grandparent`s house, and can still remember Andy Dibble saving Nigel Winterburn’s penalty and Brian Stein scoring the winning goal with 14 seconds left to play as if it was yesterday.
I suppose I should have been disappointed that Arsenal had lost but I wasn’t. I was completely blown away by this ‘little’ club slaying the giant that was Arsenal. I’d already told my mum I wanted to be a Junior Gunner but she said it would be easier to watch Luton “as they’re a lot nearer’ (how easily my loyalty was bought) so that was that.
They had an open-top bus ride through the centre of town which my Dad surprised me with after school and I was blown away. I had a Luton flat-cap and scarf and everything. I looked so cool.
I was a mascot for the game against Spurs in March 1989, and I`ve still got the little kit they gave me at home (although it is a bit snug these days to be honest).
I went to games with a friend and his Dad at first and as well as the 1989 Littlewoods Cup Final (which Luton lost 3-1 to Nottingham Forest) one of the first games I remember going to was against Liverpool. We stood in the Kenilworth Road end, Mick Harford scored in the third minute and Luton won 1-0.
Harford became my idol. Even though I played in goal or in the centre of defence, whenever we had a kick-about I ‘was’ Mick Harford (in later years I would be Scott Oakes, who incidentally I saw in the barbers last week – I move in some pretty elite circles). When I found out Harford had been sold to Derby County I cried my little eyes out.
My mum got a job working in the club shop which meant amongst other things that we could get tickets easier and she came to games as well, as did my sister. For the start of the 1990/91 season we had season tickets and went to every game, home or away (including a couple of memorable visits to Carrow Road).
I absolutely loved it. I don’t think I missed more than perhaps half a dozen games from that point until 1994/95, when everything went a bit wrong.
The club shop had changed hands the previous year and my mum (who by that time was running the shop as well as the Junior Hatters), had to reapply for her job. The long and the short of it was that it didn’t go well and she ended up working in the ticket office.
In April 1995 my youngest sister was born. My mum left the club, and it’s fair to say it wasn’t the fondest of farewells. As a result I said I’d never go back (although interestingly my mum, step-dad and sister still follow the Hatters).
It’s a pretty strange feeling being obsessed with football but not having a proper club. You get a new perspective on the game and when hearing the words “this must be a great game for the neutral” on TV, you know exactly what they mean.
Obviously I still looked out for Luton’s results and what have you, but didn’t lose any sleep when they lost or were relegated. I’d reached an age when I’d discovered new things – like girls, and beer.
“So what`s all this got to do with Norwich City?” I hear you ask. Good question.
My fiancé`s Dad’s family are from Norfolk (North Walsham to be precise) and support the Canaries (her Granddad has been a season ticket holder for years). After we’d been together for a year or two back in around 1999 I went to my first game with the family, and all the old memories and familiar smells came flooding back.
(I don`t know about you but I think there are smells you only get at the football. Granted some of them aren’t the most pleasant in the world, but there’s something magical about the smell of Bovril mixed with cigar smoke. It’s?beautiful).
I couldn`t tell you who we were playing against – I couldn`t even tell you who was in the team, but I was hooked. It`s difficult to explain that feeling without turning into an after-school special or an episode of Noel`s Christmas Presents, but I felt like I had come home.
So I went again. And again. And again. And before I knew it I was a fully fledged member of the Yellow Army who could tell you anything from the name of the youth team goalkeeper to who the assistant kit man was. I had my mojo back.
In the proceeding eight or nine years I`ve had more ups than downs. The play-off final was probably one of the best days of my life (goodness only knows what I would have done if we had won) with the last couple years probably the low point.
Although I don`t get to as many games as I would like (playing Saturday afternoon football used to put pay to that) I love going to Carrow Road, and since moving to Sunday morning football have been able to make the pilgrimage more frequently.
I live in Bedfordshire but the improvements to the A428 and A11 has brought the journey time down from about two and a half hours to a much more respectable hour and a half, and it flies by every time.
I still have the same feeling every single time I go to a game. That sense of expectation, optimism and wonder mixed with a smidgen of dread that only the football can concoct.
So if you`re going to the Leicester game keep an eye out for me. I`ll be sitting in block N of the Jarrold Stand, row G, seat 192. I`ll be the one in my seat by 14:15, watching the warm-up with a pasty in one hand, a bottle of diet coke in the other and a look on my face best described as “nervous excitement”.
My name is The Guru. And I am a Norwich City supporter.
OTBC
So what`s your story? Are you a lifelong City fan? Or like me have you been converted to the cause? Why do you support Norwich? I`d love to know your thoughts.