BY DAVID CAMPBELL
I was born and raised in Western Pennsylvania, a region that isn’t just a footnote in American football history—it is the history. Known as the “Cradle of Quarterbacks,” it’s the hallowed ground that produced legends like Johnny Unitas, Joe Montana, and Joe Namath. To this day, I believe it has gifted the NFL more players than any other corner of the country.
My childhood was soundtracked by the roar of the Pittsburgh Steelers’ dynasty of the 70s and 80s. Under the leadership of Coach Chuck Noll, with Terry Bradshaw at quarterback, Franco Harris running through defenses, and the fearsome “Steel Curtain” led by “Mean” Joe Greene, they were more than a team; they were an institution. In my mind, they were the American equivalent of Liverpool FC during its own golden eras under Bill Shankly and Joe Fagan, a team of titans like Keegan, Dalglish, Rush, and Souness.
Ironically, despite my extensive travels across England, my true love for the beautiful game was ignited not in a storied English stadium, but in a Pittsburgh sports bar. It was there, surrounded by a faithful congregation of Liverpool supporters, that my education began. These brethren patiently schooled me in the game’s intricacies: the distinct roles of the goalkeeper, defence, midfield, and attack (and yes, I learned a striker and a forward are, essentially, the same). They taught me it was a pitch, not a field, and a match, not a game. They unpacked rules and tactical nuances I’m still discovering today, a lifetime’s study in motion. I became mesmerized by the sheer athleticism of modern artists like Mohamed Salah, Erling Haaland, and Son Heung-min.
I was captivated. The endless stop-start nature of American football, with its 25 minutes of actual action stretched over three hours, was replaced by a fluid, relentless 90-minute drama. I was hooked, and I haven’t watched an American football game since.
Because most matches are broadcast on a delay here in the States, I’ve developed a ritual: I meticulously avoid all scores until I can watch the full match myself. This allows me the pure joy of calling my English friend, a devoted Manchester United follower, to gloat whenever my Reds secure a victory.
But my passion extends far beyond the Premier League. I was in Berlin for the 2014 World Cup, swept up in the electric atmosphere as Germany dismantled Brazil 7-1, the match playing out on screens spilling from every bar and restaurant. I cheered when the Lionesses triumphed in the 2022 UEFA Women’s Euros, celebrating their victory and their joyous medal-podium dances. I follow Liverpool with a religious fervour, proudly wearing my red, and I know every word to “You’ll Never Walk Alone” by heart. For when you walk through a storm, you must hold your head up high—and I’ve never been more proud to do so.
David Campbell is an American who spends a lot of time in Littlehampton, West Sussex.