From England to Ecuador
Since I was knee-high to a goalpost, I’ve been an ardent England fan. I’m English and so I’m used to the sort of heartbreak and heartache we experience every four years.
However, I’m also a passionate Ecuador fan. I’m not Ecuadorian and I don’t speak Spanish (apart from ‘gooooooaaallll’). But I earned my right to cheer for the South American national team during an unexpected appearance at a World Cup qualifier.
But let’s wind the stopwatch back a little first. My earliest World Cup memory was in 1990 when England played West Germany in a semi-final that was marred by a penalty shootout that we lost – something us England fans have become more than a little accustomed to over the years.
My love for the national team was sewn during that game of grit and defiance. Friends and family descended upon our home in Plymouth, UK, and we provided a particularly English buffet, donned England shorts, hats and scarves, and even flew a national flag outside.
We dreamed of making the final and I kicked every ball and saved every shot during that game but the drama and disappointment is forever etched into my memories.
However, I remember my mum asking me if I would ever support anyone else at national level (there’s Scottish, Irish and Danish in my family) – and I remember saying, of course, ‘No’.
But in 2000, I said ‘yes’.
I went travelling for a year across Central and South America and ended up in Quito, Ecuador’s capital city, on 8 October 2000. This just happened to be the day that the national team took on Chile at the Estadio Olímpico Atahualpa as part of the CONMEBOL qualifiers for the 2002 World Cup.
So I took to the streets the day before and managed to buy a ticket. I then bought a massive Ecuador flag (which I still have) and learned some crucial chants from helpful locals.
That game changed everything for me. Once again, I kicked every ball and saved every shot as I found my passion for Ecuador was as strong as my love for England. There were far more Chile fans in the ground (more than 28,000 spectators, in fact) so I had plenty of space to run up and down the terraces with the Ecuador fans, my flag wrapped tightly around me as I embraced my new nation.
Striker Agustin Delgado scored the only goal of the game, meaning Ecuador’s 1-0 win was a crucial moment that built up to the team’s eventual qualification for the World Cup for the first time in the country’s history. And I was there, singing and shouting at the top of my voice.
What was unexpected is how the Ecuadorian supporters embraced me – an overexuberant British guy who spoke pigeon Spanish – and my excited antics. They seemed to appreciate my support and I had hugs aplenty and was involved in huge chants at the final whistle.
This is an entirely different culture. I remember the food, the drums, the singing, the colours and how refreshing it was when compared to supporting an often gloomy England – but also how similar the intense passion was for your nation to triumph.
I was an unusual guest at the party but I was somehow accepted and encouraged to celebrate.
Sadly my camera was swiped not long after the game (don’t take your camera out for a night on the tiles in Quito…) so I don’t have any images of the stadium or that incredible experience. But I do still have the flag proudly hanging in my mum’s loft. And I bring it out every four years… or eight… or 12, depending on whether La Tri qualify.
Since then, as a global journalist, I’ve interviewed England heroes including David Beckham and Michael Owen but nothing really compares to the heartbreak of that England game in 1990 and then the elation of seeing my new adopted country making World Cup history in 2000.
The wider truth is that football isn’t just tribal – it’s a shared experience across the globe. Cheering another nation in the flesh at their biggest stadium during World Cup season was unexpected, exhilarating and gave me the sort of memories you treasure for an entire lifetime.
