An outsider

Words: Sasha Hartman

Images: Sasha Hartman

Who is she?

I have a confession to make. I’m new to soccer, er, football. I’ve supported our women’s national team for a few years, but when you live in a part of Canada that’s covered in feet of snow for six months, hockey is the game.

This year, though, I’ve started to get into football in earnest. One of my closest friends has been my shepherd. Admittedly though, I’m essentially Ted Lasso. I’m awkward and I’m lost, but I’m hooked and I’m trying.

The Canadian football season ended before I had a chance to do any groundhopping - although I’m fairly sure my options even mid season, in particular for non-league, are sparse despite how massive the country is.

I had a chance this month to spend some time in England and I used that opportunity to dip my toe into groundhopping.

I spent many years studying sociology and some of the most notable early works in the field are of people exploring and learning - about groups of people, about hobbies, about subcultures.

I feel a bit like I’m doing that with football - feeling my way in from the outside, appreciating with curious eyes (and lens).

Forever blowing bubbles.

I managed to squeeze five games into my inaugural groundhopping adventure. The very first ended up being quite a momentous one - my first Premier League game.

Said BFF helped me land on West Ham United vs Everton men to fill my first Saturday slot.

It took a full half hour and two failed transactions to purchase a ticket online and a centre upper block seat cost me a cool £80.

To be fair, that’s about half what a similar ticket for the National Hockey League would run.

As I made my way to the stadium, I planned to rely on Google maps to guide me from the station, but quickly realised when I emerged from the underground that we were just a giant mass of people all making our way to the ground.

Against the backdrop of the grey sky and caws of the magpies, I was first struck by the merchants selling hats and scarves - adorned with the names and faces of players, and featuring both of the teams facing off in the game (and not just the home team).

©Sasha Hartman/ Terrace Edition. Scarf seller. West Ham vs Everton.

It was a 3pm game but the vibe outside the stadium was full party - DJ, beer, dancing. I obviously joined in and as I was snapping pictures, a couple posed for a silly one.

I soon learned that their names - they almost couldn’t even believe it - were George and Georgia. They asked me where I was from and I told them I was a Canadian at their first Premier League game.

They graciously told me some of the stadium rules - like no drinks inside so people don’t throw things onto the pitch - and George spoke about the importance of the Remembrance ceremonies that were taking place that day and what they meant to him as a patriotic English man.

He proudly showed me his military-inspired tattoo as well as the West Ham one that wasn’t hidden by his trouser leg.

To my shock, George pulled out his wallet at one point and put a pin badge on my jacket and told me I’m a West Ham fan now - a pin from winning the 2023 Europa Conference League. Such a generous and kind gesture to bestow on someone you just met.

©Sasha Hartman/ Terrace Edition. West Ham ink.

As I took my seat, I couldn’t help but notice the sheer size of the place I was in. There were so many people.

The building itself was impressive and I definitely get the fuss over the floodlights now - the large triangle-shaped lights around the stadium were very pleasing to photograph.

I still don’t fully know how football works but I did know West Ham was playing like garbage, with the game ending 0-0. There were lots of exasperated sighs and cries of ‘Forward!’ and ‘Just shoot!’ and even a ‘So bad all the time’.

One of the most exciting moments on the pitch was the bubbles that were blown - which somewhat explained the quote I saw on a stadium wall, though I am still lost as to what their significance is.

The game at West Ham was certainly a memorable one. I got to experience some of the community that is football, with a genuinely lovely exchange with total strangers, alongside the frustration that can mostly silence a crowd of roughly 60,000 people.

©Sasha Hartman/ Terrace Edition. West Ham lights.

Nothing stops us.

One week later, I was again presented with the opportunity to fill a prime Saturday groundhopping spot. I had yet to see a women’s game by this point, so I made that the focus of my search.

Enter my shepherd again who not only found me a game but also bought the ticket for me while we sped through the English countryside on a train so the motion sickness didn’t make me barf.

The process was painless this time and the ticket was only £15, to watch the two best teams in the Women’s Super League - Chelsea versus Manchester City.

As I rode the tube out to Stamford Bridge, I could tell I was going the right way. I could see mothers with their daughters, fans adorned in Chelsea scarves and hats, and people that appeared to be queer women like myself.

I was ready this time, for the hoard of humans that wound its way to the stadium.

The party vibe I stumbled upon at West Ham was missing outside this ground - there were no DJs or much beer despite the 5:30pm start. I did, though, get a burger that may have been the best one of my life (there were onion rings).

©Sasha Hartman/ Terrace Edition. Chelsea FC Women vs Manchester City Women.

Once I made my way to my seat, I could tell that very few people were seated in the upper block. Even with half the stadium filled, the energy in the building was a 10. There was chanting, there was dancing, there was booing. There were lights, flags, music.

Despite having only learned a fraction more about how football works in the past week - via some chilly nights spectating non-league play at Carshalton Athletic FC, Lewes FC, and Newcastle Blue Star FC - this game was really fun to watch.

There was lots of action, lots of back and forth play, and two Chelsea goals to celebrate.There are even two Canadian players on the team which was a treat for me - though one of them, defender Kadeisha Buchanan, tore her ACL in the game.

As the game finished, many fans made their way down to the edge of the pitch. I joined the crowds and watched the Chelsea team make their way around as light rain began to fall on us all.

It was an enjoyable way to end the game - surrounded by young fans, many of them young girls, decked in their Chelsea gear, holding signs, eager for a moment with their idols.

On this trip to England, I had a lot of alone time - probably too much alone time for a person with a brain like mine.

But it was hard to feel lonely when chanting with thousands of other people, when seeing kids carrying flags for Chelsea FC women, when watching a family fail miserably to start the wave for way too long.

©Sasha Hartman/ Terrace Edition. Chelsea FC Women vs Manchester City Women.

Finding community, chasing equality.

I’m a bit of a walking cliche, but I’ve been on a search to find myself lately. My career is settling, my child is growing, and I’m shedding the skins of past lives. Have I found a piece of myself here?

In this sport, on this continent, in the groundhopping community?

There’s a camaraderie and a warmth that I’m drawn to. There’s also a real opportunity for growth. Not just for me, but for the sport - in particular for women.

The movement, both here and back home, to grow the women’s sport is swelling. Canada is launching our women’s professional league in the spring.

Lewes FC - of which I’ve recently become a passionate fan owner continues to be a vocal proponent for equality.

I feel like there is a chance to be part of something bigger than myself. Like there’s space here to dig in my heels and be a witness to -or maybe even a part of - history in the making.

©Sasha Hartman/ Terrace Edition. Chelsea FC Women vs Manchester City Women.

©Sasha Hartman/ Terrace Edition. Chelsea FC Women vs Manchester City Women.

Sasha is on X: @sashaclicks and Instagram: sashaclickz