Baggie Bird

Today I thought I'd write a post about football, and my ongoing affair with the beautiful game. This morning, my uncle drove down to West Bromwich to watch our mighty West Bromwich Albion take on Parma in their last pre-season friendly before the proper Prem action kicks off next weekend. He didn't ask me if I wanted to go too, which made me sad, so instead I'm sat at home (Leeds home) waiting for the action to unfold on the WBA website and quietly humming The Lord Is My Shepherd (Albion's unofficial hymn of choice) to myself.

Those of you who've grown up in a football family will understand how I feel when I say that I simply don't remember not supporting WBA, and that I truely am Albion 'Till I Die. The blue and white stripes and that little throstle bird stir in me something almost primitive, a feeling of belonging that can't be replicated anywhere else. When I'm squashed in The Vine for my pre-match pint with a room full of big, Black Country men and when I'm sat in the stand next to the old man who's been to pretty much every game for the last 60 or so years (that's my Grandad, FYI) I truely feel like I'm home. Those chants we sing, and the stripes we wear, bond us together like one big family that spans all ages, colours, gender, religions, job titles and backgrounds. We Are Albion, and all of our differences disapear when we swarm into The Hawthons en masse.

We go through the highs and lows, the tears and the cheers together. Supporting The Albion is not an easy ride, but I wouldn't change it for anything.

If I'm romantacising it a bit, I apologise; but I really do feel like this about my club and I always will. I was born a Baggie, my children (if/when I'm lucky enough to have them) will grow up the same way, and I hope to still be singing The Lord Is My Shepherd in the Halfords Lane End when I'm in my eighties just like my grandad still does now.

Albion 'Till I Die. Boing Boing!


Some of my Baggie family. Me, Uncle Steph, Dad Paul, Mom Chris and Grandad John :)