Guest Post by Paul Randall
I was born and raised in South London, my Dad was a Palace fan (our local team), my older brother a ST holder at White Hart Lane. I was a young boy, aged 8, but even then needed my own identity. West Ham won the Cup Winners Cup and a year later won an even bigger competition (sic), so it was Bobby Moore and his happy Hammers for me.
I can still remember my first time at Upton Park, that first ever view of the pitch, breathtaking, a home game with Wolves which we drew 3-3. I was hooked, to this day I am hooked still. Being a Hammer is part of me, even defines me as a person. I may not be from the East End, I may have only, on average, been to about 6 live games a year (until two seasons ago when I became a ST holder for the first time), but I am as passionate as all of you, my friends, family, past lovers and current partner….all, I am sure, think of me when West Ham is on the news. To them I am West Ham, in good and bad, victory and defeat.
I have two sons, the oldest a Hammer, the younger, unfortunately a London Red. I live down in Sussex now surrounded by good neighbours who are Everton, Palace and Brighton fans. We have good banter, for me a trip to UP for a 3pm KO means leaving home at about 11 getting back at 7pm. It’s a full day’s commitment really. I often do it alone, as the oldest son is often too busy to go these days.
My Hammers supporting friend has other issues in their life to deal with. My partner does come with me on occasions but really, I know, would prefer to be riding her horse…..Jane once famously asked me, while at a game, surrounded by the good and great of the West Ham faithful, ‘Who is Julian Dick anyway’ in response to the pitch side advertising for his DVD. I knew at that point she should have been riding her horse!
I started this piece intending to describe past games, players, emotions, but, you know, there are far too many in a lifetime of being a Hammer. It would go on for pages – I thought I would leave you with one thought. It’s a feeling really, it’s true emotion, but regardless of who owns the club, who sits in the Manager’s chair, what names are on the back of the shirts worn by the current group of players – I can sit in the stands, well before kick off, I can look at all four corners of the ground, for I have frequented all of them at some time or other since that great six goal thriller with Wolves all those years ago, and I smile. I bloody well smile a great big fat smile and I wouldn’t have changed any of it for the world.