Green Smoke

By Alasdair Mackay

I ticked something off my bucket list the other day – I saw Stevie Wonder perform at Hyde Park.

Full disclosure: I went for a picnic with some friends in Hyde Park, and we were able to hear and see over the wall to the big screen, where Mr Wonder was performing to thousands of paying fans. We didn’t have a great view, and we spent quite a bit of time trying to identify the specific songs from so far away, but I am counting it.

Amidst the excitement, a friend of mine waved and gestured at me, “Jets! Jets!”

This friend is not a Jets fan himself, but he does know of my affection for the team, and he felt he was doing me a favour by pointing out a man walking across Hyde Park in a Jets t-shirt. The man in question was about 200 yards away, so I decided against sprinting across the park to give him a hug or a high-five. The moment passed.

A week or so earlier I was in a cheap chain pub (you know the one) in Mile End when I was approached by a guy called Chris, who recognised me from my regular attendance at the Hippodrome during the Jets’ season. He is also a Jets fan, but neither one of us was adorning team colours.

The two incidents together made me think about how often I do (and don’t) wear Jets merchandise, especially during the off-season. Most of the time, I don’t. If you look closely at my key ring or glance over my shoulder at my phone screen, you can pretty quickly identify me as a Jets fan – but for the vast majority of the year, I float around London and pass tens of thousands of people who are totally unaware that I am thinking about one of the Williams brothers or replaying the end of the Browns game as I walk down the road.

Most of the time, of course, I can’t get away with Jets merch – it is not a good look in a meeting with a potential investor or when giving a talk or workshop to people aspiring to follow my career path. I love it, by the way, on a game day at the Hippodrome – when I walk past all the people dressed up for a night out at a fancy casino. I get more than a few confused looks from people as I breeze through the lobby in my Enunwa jersey, waving at all the security guards and wait staff that I know. It is like a scene from a movie in my head.

Speaking of movies, of course, the silver and small screens are great places to identify fellow Jets fans – even if some of them are fictional. I don’t know who Fred Savage supports, but Kevin Arnold was a Jets fan – and he was cool! Doctor Venkman as well – was watching the New York Sack Exchange when he wasn’t busting ghosts and chatting up Dana Barrett. I think the actor, Bill Murray, is a Bears fan, but at least his character made good choices.

The reality, of course, is that the director ultimately gets to decide which team his characters support. Adam Sandler forces Jets references into many of his movies – my favourite being from Big Daddy, where he takes the kid to the bar (fun fact – the waitress in that scene is now Sandler’s wife). Then there is John Favreau, a personal hero of mine, and the infamous Chrebet jersey in the brilliant film Elf.

Everyone remembers the great actor James Gandolfini – famously a Jets fan who brought his fandom into his most memorable character as mob boss, Tony Soprano. Gandolfini was a serial Jets referencer. In one of his last performances in the brilliant film The Drop, he plays Marv, a crooked bar owner and, you guessed it, a Jets fan.

From mob bosses to kids that save Christmas and doctors that save New York from giant marshmallow men, no fictional Jet fan can quite match the claim of our most famous member – Flash Gordon – he saved every one of us, remember?

Surely that’s enough to make you feel proud to be a Jets fan. No Bills fans can claim to support the same team as the saviour of the universe.

Is it enough to make me choose green more often in the summer? Maybe. But if not – you can always identify me from my keyring.