The walk to the grounds was intimidating; the long trudge along Fulham road was met with only anxiousness and excitement for the coming match. It was the big day, the boy’s father’s favorite soccer team Chelsea was playing one of their biggest rivals Fulham. Both teams are from London, and more specifically one mile apart; this made for one of the biggest, and most aggressive rivalries to date.

Once the pair reached Stamford Bridge (Chelsea FC’s stadium), the road expanded into a vast ocean of concrete which was covered with thousands of people; those of whom were feeling the same emotions as one another. Photos were taken along the brick walls lining the stadium, fans entered the shop to get clothing and other miscellaneous gear to support the club. Finally the fans made their way to the small electronic gates wrapping around the stadium itself. The father lead his young boy to the correct gate, eager to share his passion of the club with him. They scanned their tickets and entered the grounds.

The buzz of the atmosphere surrounded them as their feet danced up the stairwell to their seats. Though the narrow staircase on the outside of the field were filled to the brim with people, it seemed as if their seats were before them in no time. As they slowly followed the crowd out the door, the hallway opened up into the pitch, and the spectacle before the young boy amazed him to his core. Both of them stepped out onto the platform, and gazed upon the stadium. Over forty-one thousand bodies stood before the boy, chanting and cheering in hopes their team would emerge glorious. Boy heard the chants, and witnessed the crowds from my television in the privacy of his own home, but never had been able to be apart of it himself. They were helped to our seats by a steward in his high-visibility vest, and upon arrival, the excitement of the game finally settled; the butterflies distracted his every being. The songs, the anticipation, the moment were so overwhelming to him. He wanted to cry, tears of joy were on the verge of streaming down his face when the massive speakers around the stadium blasted a club-famous song. Yet again, emotions overcame him, a young fan who had only heard this song through the speakers of his television.

All at once, the realization came to him that the song playing always signified that the players were making their way out onto the field, and with a quick glance he noticed the two squads walking to the center of the pitch. The royal blue of Chelsea and the crisp white of Fulham complimented the perfectly maintained grass in which they played upon. After ten second of sound the song was slowly faded out and the cheers from the crowd, which seemed impossible at the time, raised in volume. The entirety of London could’ve heard the mighty Blue Lions roar ahead of the colossal match.

As a young fan of only 9 years old, he was sure to be overwhelmed, and thus he was. For watching his team narrowly defeat their long-time rivals to a one-to-nothing scoreline was one of the best moments of his life. For even today he still remember the chants and the songs he quickly learned that day; and all the events down to every little detail. That was the day a fire ignited inside his soul. A young child’s eyes sparkled at the spectacle before him, and it was from that moment on that he became a true fan of the club. No longer did he just support from thousands of miles away, he knew the songs, the players, the game itself. He went from being an armchair fan, to a fan who bled the color blue; that same color that his team wore onto the pitch.