Green Smoke

By Ant Cook

Part One: Built Together

As I write this, I’m sitting high above the city in The Shard, drinking an overpriced coffee and looking out across London’s skyline. The Thames snakes its steady path through the capital, the buildings stand layered in history and ambition, and for a moment everything feels still. No one knows how crazy life has been for the past few weeks. It’s strange how reflection finds you in places like this. You look outwards, and somehow you end up looking inwards too.

Being named International Fan of the Year for the New York Jets (2025) is something I still haven’t fully processed. Not because it doesn’t feel real, but because it feels bigger than an award. When I think about what it represents, my mind doesn’t go to a single moment or announcement. It goes to years of shared experiences, late nights, early mornings, long conversations, laughter in pubs, heartbreak on fourth downs, and a belief that refused to disappear.

Supporting the New York Football Jets from the UK has never been about convenience. It has always been about connection, the kind that forms when you commit to the journey rather than just the outcome. Over time, that commitment stopped being something personal. It became something shared.

When we built and grew Gang Green UK, the aim was simple: no Jets fan on this side of the Atlantic should ever feel like they were watching alone. We wanted to create a place where people belonged. That meant organising watch parties that ran into the early hours, arranging tailgates and meet-ups, running charity raffles, sorting merchandise and travel plans, and answering countless messages behind the scenes. Above all, it meant making people feel welcome.

What I never expected was how much it would give back to me.

There were moments of doubt along the way. I’ve always been conscious of not wanting any of this to be about personal recognition. Community first has never just been a phrase; it’s been a principle. So when the nomination conversations began, and when the announcement finally came, I felt pride and discomfort in equal measure. Pride because of what we’d built together. Discomfort because standing in the spotlight only feels right if you’re reflecting that light back onto everyone else.

But sitting here now, looking across London, I realise something important. Leadership and service aren’t opposites. You can accept an award without claiming ownership of the achievement. This recognition belongs to every single person who has turned up, travelled, donated, stayed awake, or welcomed a new fan into the fold.

What makes this even more meaningful is seeing how the international NFL community has grown. Over the past few years I’ve built relationships not just within the Jets family, but with people leading international fan groups from other teams as well. Rivalries still exist on the field, and they always will, but off it there’s something bigger happening. There’s collaboration, shared ideas, mutual respect, and a genuine desire to grow the game properly across borders.

We’ve swapped advice on events, supported each other’s charity initiatives, and recognised that expanding American football internationally works best when it’s done together. It’s inspiring to see fan leaders from different franchises united by the same goal: making the sport inclusive, welcoming and community-driven in places thousands of miles from home.

That sense of shared growth makes this award feel less like a competition and more like a chapter in a wider movement.

When I reflect on the journey, what stands out most is responsibility. Pride fades quickly. Headlines move on. Responsibility doesn’t. This platform is an opportunity to strengthen the UK Jets community, deepen relationships with the organisation, collaborate with other international fan bases, and continue raising money and awareness for causes that matter.

This year feels like convergence. Personally and professionally, things are aligning in a way that feels purposeful. But that doesn’t mean everything has been easy. It feels like the lessons from the last few years have finally started to make sense. There’s resilience from supporting the Jets through difficult seasons, perspective from helping build something bigger than myself, and gratitude from seeing what can happen when people choose unity over ego.

As I look out of the window, the city feels symbolic. London is built on layers, with history alongside innovation and tradition beside ambition. In many ways, our international fan communities feel the same. Rooted in loyalty, but constantly evolving. Proud of where we started, but excited about where we’re heading.

Being International Fan of the Year isn’t an endpoint. It’s a platform. It’s a reminder that what we do matters. That showing up matters. That creating belonging matters.

If there’s one thing I hope this journey represents, it’s that fandom can be powerful when it’s intentional. It can build friendships across cities and nations. It can raise money for charity. It can inspire confidence in people who simply needed somewhere to feel at home.

This award carries my name, but it carries our story.

Tomorrow, I’ll walk into a room not just as a fan, but as the International Fan of the Year.

And if I’m honest, that sentence still feels unfamiliar.

The occasion? The launch of this year’s New York Jets’ Girls Flag League in London, an outreach project I’ve wholeheartedly supported since its inception. It’s a programme that isn’t about wins and losses, but about opportunity, confidence, access, representation and the future of the game.

And suddenly, this title feels very real.

There’s a different kind of energy building ahead of this event. Not the late-night, caffeine-fuelled buzz of a game day or the chaos of organising a watch party. This is quieter, more focused and, in many ways, more personal.

There are nerves. Not fear, but responsibility. This is my first real interaction with the organisation in this role. The first time stepping into a Jets-led environment carrying that recognition. The first time representing not just myself or Gang Green UK, but the wider international fan community under an official banner. I want to get it right.

What excites me most is what this initiative represents. The Girls Flag League isn’t symbolic, it’s practical. It creates opportunities for young girls to step into a sport that hasn’t always felt accessible to them. It builds confidence through teamwork, encourages leadership through play, and shows them that American football isn’t “for someone else”. It’s for them.

That matters because growing the game internationally doesn’t just happen through stadium games and merchandise sales. It happens through grassroots investment, in school halls, on community pitches, through coaches who give up their time, and through young athletes who pull on a flag for the first time and realise they belong on the field.

As someone who’s spent years building community from the outside, in pubs, at meet-ups and through social media, this feels like stepping inside the heartbeat of it.

And I can feel that energy already. I can picture walking into that space, seeing Jets branding attached to something so positive and forward-looking, and having the chance to speak with staff, organisers, parents and players, knowing I’m there because of what our community has built.

There’s pride, of course, but even more than that there’s gratitude. This moment isn’t separate from the journey. It’s a continuation of everything that’s come before. The fundraising, the events, the growth and the visibility have all helped tell a bigger story: that the Jets matter here, that this community matters here, and that the future of the sport matters here.

I also feel a quiet sense of alignment.

The award recognised passion and community building. This event is about purpose and development. The two fit together perfectly.

There’s something powerful about your first official interaction not being a glamorous ceremony, but a grassroots initiative. Not a spotlight moment, but a community one. It reminds me why I started in the first place.

I don’t know exactly how I’ll feel when I walk into the room tomorrow.

But I do know this.

Whatever tomorrow brings, I know one thing. If I’m nervous, it’s because I care. If I’m excited, it’s because I genuinely believe in what this community is building. And more than anything, it feels like we’re only just getting started.

This isn’t just about representing fans.

It’s about representing what fandom can become when it invests in the next generation.

Part Two: The Three Day Spectacle

I’m currently on a train heading back to London, and it suddenly hit me that the last time I made this journey I was on my way to the NFL Draft. Even now, that feels surreal.

People in the NFL often say the Draft starts in Mobile, Alabama, at the Senior Bowl, where college players begin the final stage of their journey to the league. Looking back, I think my Draft journey actually started much closer to home, in Teesside on New Year’s Eve 2025.

At around 10 o’clock that morning, I received a message like so many I’d had before: “Are you available for a video call with 1JD (Jets Headquarters) on 2 January at 9am ET?” Nothing unusual there. I was always happy to jump on a call with the team, and the fact I didn’t know what it was about never really crossed my mind.

Fast forward to the day of the call. I was working from home, juggling meetings and planning work, when I suddenly remembered I was due online with the Jets. I logged in from my bar, which doubles as my home office, and was greeted by some familiar faces from the Jets and Sportfive. We wished each other a Happy New Year, chatted about the holidays, and caught up before Katie, the Jets’ International Manager, asked me to tell the story of how I’d become a Gang Green fan.

She then asked about Gang Green UK, what we’d been doing to grow the community, and how we were helping develop the game across the UK. I answered the questions like I always do, thinking it was just another catch-up. Then something happened I hadn’t even noticed. A black screen at the top of my monitor suddenly came to life.

Joe Tippman appeared.

We’d never spoken before. He introduced himself, asked how I was, exchanged a few words, and then asked a question I’ll never forget.

“Would you be the New York Jets’ International Fan of the Year for 2025?”

I was completely stunned. There are certain moments in life that stay with you forever, and for me this is one of them. Of all the honours the organisation could have given me, this is one I’ll always treasure.

“Would you like a drink?”

The trolley rolling past on the train pulled me straight back into the present and reminded me I was heading to London to meet Warren before we flew out to Pittsburgh. By this point, we’d already spent weeks chatting away in the International Fan of the Year WhatsApp group. It already felt like we knew each other, so meeting in person felt like the natural next step.

We made it through the airport without any drama and, naturally, our first stop was Wetherspoons. As we walked through departures, more and more International Fans seemed to appear from nowhere. Commanders. Vikings. Dolphins. Jaguars. Buccaneers. It felt like Pokémon GO, except instead of collecting Pokémon we were collecting fan bases. Within minutes we were all sat together, swapping stories we’d started online and laughing as though we’d known each other for years. That was the moment I realised this trip was going to be something special.

For me, flying with British Airways is part of the excitement of any trip to the United States, and this one was no different. As more NFL fans boarded, the aircraft started to feel like one of the London Games, with jerseys everywhere, conversations between strangers and that shared excitement of knowing we were all heading to the same place. I didn’t think the atmosphere could get any better until Martin from Fins Nation UK discovered the in-flight Wi-Fi was powered by Starlink.

Free. Fast. Dangerous.

For the next five hours the cabin turned into a flying video conference, with fans calling friends and family from 35,000 feet simply because they could. It was complete chaos, but the best kind of chaos. When we finally landed in Pittsburgh on Tuesday morning, our first stop wasn’t immigration or baggage reclaim. It was the full-size NFL Draft stage built inside the airport, and naturally every single one of us had to have our photo taken. Looking back, maybe that was the first rehearsal for what was still to come.

Wednesday morning gave us our first proper chance to explore Pittsburgh, and I have to say, it’s a beautiful city. A few of us wandered through the streets, taking in the sunshine, crossing the bridges and making our way towards Point State Park, PNC Park and Acrisure Stadium. There was no rush. We were simply enjoying being there, soaking up the atmosphere before everything really got underway.

We grabbed breakfast by the river, browsed the Draft stores and, naturally, began scouting out the best places for a drink later. The weather couldn’t have been better and there was a real buzz around the city. Everywhere you looked there were NFL fans, team colours and reminders that Pittsburgh was about to become the centre of the football world.

That evening brought our first official NFL activity, a drinks reception and Q&A with Commissioner Roger Goodell. That alone would have made for a memorable evening, but for all of us International Fans of the Year there was something else on our minds.

Our jerseys.

Frazer had warned me that when he attended, his jersey had gone missing, so I’d be lying if I said there weren’t a few nerves as I walked towards the collection table. My eyes immediately searched for that Gotham Green jersey.

Thankfully, it was there.

Collecting it made everything suddenly feel real. I also had the chance to meet Jets representatives Nadege and Jason, have a chat and grab a photo together before the evening really got going.

The room was full of fans from across the world, all brought together by a shared love of the game. Conversations bounced from international expansion and overseas games to the future of the NFL. There was a genuine sense that everyone there wanted to see the sport continue to grow beyond the United States.

As the evening came to a close, we were told there would be an opportunity to have photos with Commissioner Goodell.

Except my attention was somewhere else.

Sitting only a few feet away was Curtis Martin.

Over the years I’d had opportunities to speak with Curtis, but for one reason or another I’d never taken them. This time I wasn’t letting the moment pass.

We spoke for quite a while, and for the first time I was able to tell him how he’d inspired me to become a Jets fan all those years ago. It was one of those conversations that simply felt right. I even managed to get him to sign the travelling Green Smoke helmet, something I’ll treasure for a very long time.

The downside?

I completely missed the group photo with Roger Goodell.

I did manage to sneak a solo picture with him afterwards though, so I suppose I can’t complain too much.

Thursday was the day everything started to feel real. Both Frazer and Olivia had warned me that Draft Day would be intense, so we made sure we started with a decent breakfast before heading to the East Gate for our exclusive tour of the Draft Theatre with the other International Fans of the Year. Registration was organised chaos, with people shouting directions and moving everyone from one place to another, but somehow we all survived. Once we stepped inside, though, the scale of the event really hit us. You watch the NFL Draft on television every year, but nothing prepares you for standing in the middle of it. It was enormous.

We were shown where the Inner Circle would be for the evening before getting a genuine behind-the-scenes look at how the Draft operates. We visited the Topps trading card area, the New Era hat station and walked past the incredible artwork created for each NFL team, all of which had been designed specifically for Pittsburgh. Every detail had clearly been thought through. One of the highlights for me was visiting the Green Room, where the players wait for the phone call that changes their lives. Standing there, you couldn’t help wondering what must be going through their minds while they waited. Excitement. Nerves. Relief. It gave you a completely different perspective on what the Draft means to the players, not just the fans.

After the tour we had a few hours to ourselves, so we wandered around the Draft Experience, took everything in and generally enjoyed the atmosphere before the evening got underway. The red carpet was earlier than in previous years, and the Pittsburgh sunshine wasn’t messing about. Somewhere along the way the team from Noggin Boss asked if I’d wear one of their oversized Jets hats while filming some content, which was too good an opportunity to turn down. Walking the red carpet was surreal. It wasn’t about feeling like a celebrity; it was about appreciating how unique the whole experience was and reminding myself just how lucky I was to be there.

Once the red carpet finished, reality kicked in. We had just over an hour to get back across the site, meet up with Warren and Mikey Hulk Hands and make it into the Inner Circle before the Draft began. By then we were in full Jets gear, posing for photos with fans from every corner of the NFL. There was plenty of friendly banter, but far more respect than rivalry. It genuinely felt like a celebration of football, with thousands of supporters brought together by the same game.

As we took our seats, the Jets surprised us with more gifts and merchandise before the chants inevitably started.

J-E-T-S… JETS! JETS! JETS!

They definitely heard us. Throughout the evening television crews seemed to know exactly where the Jets fans were sitting, and cameras constantly appeared looking for reactions, celebrations and anything that captured the atmosphere. Then came the moment we’d all been waiting for.

“With the second pick in the 2026 NFL Draft, the New York Jets select David Bailey, Edge, Texas Tech.”

The roar from our section was incredible. When David came over for his first selfie with Jets fans, I honestly don’t think he could have asked for a better welcome. Gang Green UK did itself proud.

The rest of the evening flew by in a blur of conversations, predictions and constantly checking our draft boards to see what might happen next. Then came Pick 16.

“With the 16th pick in the 2026 NFL Draft, the New York Jets select Kenyon Sadiq, Tight End, Oregon.”

I didn’t see that one coming, but I loved the pick. Sadiq wasn’t in attendance, although seeing Mikey receive the Draft card from Commissioner Goodell was a brilliant moment and one I managed to capture on video. The night still wasn’t over, though. Once again the words every Jets fan loves hearing echoed around the theatre.

“The Jets are on the clock.”

You could feel the anticipation building around us. Everyone had an opinion, everyone thought they knew what was coming, and then it happened.

“With the 30th pick in the 2026 NFL Draft, the New York Jets select Omar Cooper Jr., Wide Receiver, Indiana.”

Our section erupted. The reaction videos ended up everywhere online, but one moment still makes me smile. The Bills fans sitting behind us were convinced he was heading their way. When the Jets traded up and made the pick, you could almost feel the disappointment behind us. Sometimes you have to enjoy the little divisional victories.

Friday began much like Thursday, although this time we all knew the routine. We were due back at the East Gate for another behind-the-scenes experience, but thanks to road closures almost everyone ended up at the West Gate first. It summed the week up perfectly. Plans rarely stayed as plans for long, but somehow everything always worked itself out.

That morning we were given access to the NFL Draft Room, and for someone who loves the Draft as much as I do, it was fascinating. We entered through the University of Pittsburgh side of the stadium before being shown the room where every decision, every trade and every pick is processed. Seeing the draft cards laid out, hearing the officials explain the procedures and being able to ask questions about how everything works was something I’d only ever imagined experiencing. Ironically, one of the questions we asked was what happened if two teams tried to submit something at the same time. We were told it didn’t really happen. Later that evening… it did.

We also had the chance to meet the four International Player Pathway athletes. At the time it was another really enjoyable experience, but I had no idea it would become one of the memories that stayed with me most from the whole trip.

After the tour we wandered around the Draft Experience before getting changed for another evening in the Inner Circle. By now it almost felt familiar. We met the others at the South Entrance, took our seats, collected yet more Jets gifts and settled in for what we’d been told would be a quieter evening.

It wasn’t.

If anything, the atmosphere was even better than the night before. Brett Michaels and Wiz Khalifa got the crowd going before the Draft resumed, and as the picks unfolded the energy around the venue just kept growing. One of the things I’ll remember most wasn’t actually the football. It was talking to fans from every franchise, celebrating their moments as much as our own and realising that, despite all the rivalries, everyone there shared the same excitement.

Then our moment arrived.

Curtis Martin walked onto the stage.

If there was anyone I wanted announcing a Jets pick, it was Curtis. Hearing him say, “With the next pick, the New York Jets select D’Angelo Ponds, defensive back, Indiana,” was special enough, but seeing the reaction from the Jets fans around us made it even better. Curtis even tried to make his way over to celebrate with us before security stepped in. Thankfully they only delayed him for a few minutes.

Not long afterwards he was back, this time with Commissioner Roger Goodell.

I couldn’t quite believe it.

I found myself chatting with Curtis again as he signed autographs for fans, including Mikey Hulk Hands’ legendary jersey, something Mikey had wanted for years. Watching that moment happen for him was almost as satisfying as anything that had happened to me. Sometimes the best memories come from seeing someone else get theirs.

By the time we headed back to the hotel, I don’t think any of us had really stopped smiling. The reality was beginning to sink in that tomorrow would be my day. I’d be walking onto the Draft stage to announce a New York Jets selection.

It still didn’t quite feel real.

The only thing stopping us getting completely carried away was Warren. He’d left the Draft earlier in the evening feeling unwell, complaining of nausea and chest pains. Back at the hotel he drifted in and out of sleep while the rest of us quietly compared notes on the day. We were all excited about what tomorrow might bring, but underneath it all there was a growing concern for our mate. At that point none of us realised just how serious things were about to become.

Saturday morning felt different.

There was excitement, of course, but underneath it all were nerves. Today was the day I would announce the Jets’ draft pick, and although I’d imagined this moment countless times, nothing quite prepares you for knowing it’s only a few hours away.

We headed to the stadium after breakfast, this time taking the free train with the rest of the group. Warren wasn’t feeling any better, but he was determined to be there. Before heading inside, Mikey Hulk Hands and I stopped at the American Express activation where fans could create their own rookie cards. It was a nice distraction for a few minutes before reality came rushing back.

Inside the arena, the layout had changed from the previous nights, but all of the International Fans of the Year were still together near the front. Before the Draft began, we took the opportunity to grab one last group photo and I asked each of the winners to sign my NFL Draft mini helmet. I’d brought it with me hoping it would become the perfect keepsake from an unforgettable week, and judging by the number of others who decided to do the same, I wasn’t the only one who thought it was a good idea.

Not long before the Jets’ pick, one of the NFL representatives came over, tapped me on the shoulder and simply said, “Jets, Chargers and 49ers… you’re with me.”

That was it.

The waiting was over.

We were taken behind the stage and held just outside the production area while Picks 100 and 101 were announced. Standing there, trying to keep calm, I looked up and saw Commissioner Roger Goodell walking towards us. He could probably see the nerves written all over our faces because he immediately put us at ease, chatting with us, offering advice and reminding us to enjoy every second. It was a small gesture, but one I’ll always remember.

There was just one problem.

I’d completely lost my voice.

By Saturday morning I’d been surviving on throat sweets and antiseptic spray, hoping it would hold together long enough to get me through my announcement. One of the production team looked at what I was using, smiled and said, “I’ve got something much better than that.”

A few minutes later he returned armed with what can only be described as industrial-strength ice spray. It hit the back of my throat with such force that my eyes nearly watered. Before I’d really had chance to react, someone smiled, opened the stage entrance and said the words I’d been waiting to hear.

“Off you go.”

Frazer had warned me afterwards that he could barely remember walking onto the stage, and at the time I thought he was exaggerating.

He wasn’t.

Even now, there are parts of those few seconds I can’t fully remember. Everything seemed to blur together until I reached the microphone. Then I heard them.

Our International Fan of the Year group.

The Jets fans.

Gang Green UK.

The cheers cut straight through the noise and every bit of nervousness I’d been carrying disappeared.

I recognised faces I’d met throughout the week, took one last breath and delivered the words I’d dreamed about saying.

“With the 103rd pick in the 2026 NFL Draft, the New York Jets select Darrell Jackson Jr., defensive tackle, Florida State.”

I’ll never be able to properly describe what that felt like.

One minute I was standing on one of the biggest stages in American football, the next I was backstage being congratulated before being sent straight back out to rejoin everyone else. The walk back felt completely different. There were hugs, handshakes, high-fives and so many people asking what it had been like. Looking back now, I don’t think I’ll ever find the words to do that moment justice.

The day carried on in the same incredible fashion. Every time the Jets were on the clock, the cameras found us, the chants started again and the atmosphere somehow managed to lift another level. Cade Klubnik, Anez Cooper and V.J. Payne all joined the class, and every selection felt like another excuse for our little corner of the Draft to erupt.

Watching the other International Fans of the Year take to the stage was every bit as enjoyable as making my own announcement. We’d all arrived as supporters of different teams, but by then it genuinely felt like we were cheering each other on as friends.

As the final pick was announced and the Draft finally came to an end, the whole week seemed to catch up with us. The celebrations continued with a Kane Brown concert, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Warren. I hadn’t heard from him for a while and I knew he still wasn’t right. We headed back to the hotel to check on him before joining the others, but he decided to stay behind and rest.

At the time, none of us realised that the biggest story of the trip was no longer happening inside the Draft theatre.

Sunday arrived far sooner than any of us wanted. We were all due to head home, so after checking our bags into the hotel we planned to spend a few quiet hours taking in a little more of Pittsburgh before making our way to the airport. That plan changed almost immediately. As we were leaving the hotel, the bellhop stopped Warren for a chat and, after seeing how unwell he’d been over the previous couple of days, looked him straight in the eye and said what all of us had been saying for a while: “You need to go to hospital.” To be fair, we’d all suggested it more than once, but hearing it from someone outside our group seemed to make the difference. With nothing urgent planned before our flights, Warren finally agreed to get checked over. None of us imagined what was coming next.

A few hours later, as the time crept closer to our flights home, we received the news we’d all been hoping not to hear. Warren had a ruptured, gangrenous gallbladder and needed emergency surgery. Everything else suddenly became irrelevant. The Draft, the stage and the excitement of the previous few days all faded into the background. Football had stopped being the story. Our friend was. After speaking with the insurance company and the incredible teams at Sportfive and the Jets, we explored every possible option to see if I could stay behind with Warren, but it simply wasn’t possible. As difficult as it was, I had to catch my flight while Warren stayed in Pittsburgh waiting for surgery.

It didn’t feel right.

Before leaving for the airport, I made sure Warren’s luggage was secure and spoke with his wife back home, reassuring her that he wasn’t alone. One thing this trip had shown me was the strength of the NFL community. Between all of us, we would make sure Warren had whatever he needed until he was safely home. By the time I landed at JFK, New York, my mind was still back in Pittsburgh. Then my phone buzzed with the message we’d all been waiting for. The operation had gone well. I can’t really describe the relief that brought.

People have asked me what the highlight of the trip was, and on paper the answer should be easy. Standing on the Draft stage announcing a New York Jets pick was one of the greatest honours of my life. Meeting Curtis Martin, spending time with the Jets organisation and sharing the experience with fans from around the world are memories I’ll always treasure. But by the time I boarded my flight to New York, football had slipped into the background. My biggest concern was Warren, and making sure he was going to be okay.

Thankfully, the news we’d all been hoped for had arrived, and for the first time in a couple of days I felt I could properly breathe again. The Draft was behind us, but the journey wasn’t over. Ahead of me was Florham Park, a place I’d wanted to visit for years, and another opportunity to see first-hand what makes this organisation so special. Looking back now, Pittsburgh had given me memories I’ll carry for the rest of my life. But as incredible as the Draft had been, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the week still had one more chapter to write.

Part Three: Beyond the Gates

It was 6am when my alarm went off at the Archer Hotel in Florham Park, just a stone’s throw from the New York Jets’ training facility. As I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the empty bed beside me. My thoughts immediately turned to Warren.

I picked up my phone and gave him a call to see how he’d come through the surgery. He was still groggy, still in pain and had drainage tubes in place, but everything had gone as planned. Hearing his voice was enough. It wasn’t the update any of us had hoped for a couple of days earlier, but it was the one we desperately needed now. Warren told me not to worry about him, to enjoy the day ahead and make the most of the opportunity the Jets had given me.

A little later I received a message from Katie asking me to arrive at the facility for midday. It wasn’t far from the hotel, so I decided to walk. Looking back, that ten-minute walk felt much longer. It gave me time to think about everything that had happened over the previous week, from the video call that changed everything to standing on the Draft stage just a few days earlier. I was completely on my own, walking up a long, tree-lined driveway towards a place I’d dreamed of visiting for years, trying to take it all in before I reached the gates.

When I arrived at security, the guard looked slightly puzzled that an Englishman had walked all the way up the driveway instead of arriving by car. After checking my details and making a quick phone call, he waved me through. It was only then, standing a few steps from the famous Jets logo and looking across at the practice fields and the Atlantic Health Training Center, that the reality finally hit me. This place had existed in my imagination for years. Now I was actually here.

Most people would probably assume it’s only a short walk from the gate to reception.

It isn’t.

It took about ten minutes, but honestly it felt like one of the best walks of my life. Every step gave me another glimpse of the practice fields, another reminder of where I was and another chance to soak up the atmosphere. In the distance I could see players going through different stages of their workouts and you could almost feel the energy around the building. The Draft was over. The excitement was beginning to settle. The focus had already shifted to football.

I half expected to have my own little Jamal Adams moment walking through the front doors, but thankfully everything went much more smoothly. I checked in at reception, took a seat and almost immediately my phone buzzed again. It was Warren. For a split second my heart sank, but this time he simply wanted to let me know he was feeling a little better. No major breakthrough, just a small step in the right direction. Somehow that made the day feel even brighter.

As I put my phone away, the receptionist asked why I’d looked so worried. I explained everything that had happened over the previous couple of days, and before long we were chatting about Warren, the Draft and why I was there. A few moments later, Katie appeared, along with Ellie, the team’s photographer, and suddenly another unforgettable day was underway.

Katie introduced me to Ellie, the team’s photographer, and after catching up about everything that had happened over Draft weekend, we headed outside. The first item on Ellie’s list wasn’t the training facility or the practice fields. It was my custom Jets trainers. We spent a while getting photos before making our way towards the field, and I suddenly found myself walking through somewhere I’d only ever seen on Jets media or NFL broadcasts.

Standing by the Ring of Honour was one of those moments that quietly catches you off guard. Seeing the names and faces of so many Jets greats looking over the practice fields was exactly how I’d imagined it, yet somehow even more impressive in person. There was one moment, though, that carried a touch of sadness. Seeing Nick Mangold’s banner reminded me that, for the first time in years, we hadn’t exchanged our usual messages before the Draft. We’d always enjoyed chatting about prospects, possible picks and what the Jets might do, and I found myself missing that tradition more than I expected.

As I stood by the field taking everything in, I was greeted by Jamien Sherwood, who came over to congratulate me on being named International Fan of the Year. We chatted about football, London and, somewhat unexpectedly, tequila (He must’ve known must known that alcohol is my passion and my profession). Somehow the conversation moved from linebackers and the season ahead to life outside football, which made the whole interaction feel surprisingly relaxed. Then Jamien smiled and said, “Well, we can ask D.D.”

I turned round to find Demario Davis walking over.

That wasn’t something I’d expected.

I’ve followed Demario ever since his first spell with the Jets and continued supporting him during his time in New Orleans, so getting the chance to speak with him was genuinely special. I told him I’d spoken to plenty of Saints fans who were disappointed to see him leave, but I also reminded them he wasn’t really leaving. He was coming home.

The players had meetings to get to, so I assumed that would be the end of my morning. As it turned out, the Jets still had another surprise waiting.

Andrew Beck came over to say hello, congratulate me and spend a few minutes chatting before recording a personal video message for Warren, wishing him a speedy recovery and letting him know everyone was thinking about him. It was such a thoughtful gesture, and one that summed up the people I’d met throughout the week. The outtakes from filming were absolutely priceless and probably funnier than the final video itself. We also spoke about London, his upcoming visit and flag football, and I couldn’t help thinking how much our fans back home were going to enjoy meeting him when he made the trip across the Atlantic.

As we made our way back towards the main building, someone tapped me on the shoulder and apologised for interrupting. He’d recognised me from my announcement at the Draft and wanted to congratulate me in person. It was Coach Banjo.

That genuinely stopped me in my tracks.

The fact he’d recognised me from television was surreal enough, but the fact he’d gone out of his way to come over and say hello made it even more special. Moments like that are difficult to explain because, even now, they don’t quite feel real. You grow up watching these people from thousands of miles away, and then suddenly you’re standing in New Jersey chatting as though it’s the most normal thing in the world.

After lunch, Katie showed me even more of the facility. We visited the media department, the podcast studio and some of the areas fans never get to see. Everywhere we went there seemed to be another story, another person to meet or another reminder of just how much work goes into running an NFL organisation away from the cameras.

Eventually it was time to head back to the hotel, pack my bags and prepare for the journey home. Even then, the surprises weren’t over. Waiting outside was none other than Jet Green Santa, Frank, who had kindly offered to drive me to the airport. The journey turned into one final chance to take in New Jersey, chat about the week we’d all just experienced and, most importantly, check in with Warren once again before I boarded my flight.

By the time I landed back in the UK, life seemed to resume at its usual pace, but I don’t think I was quite the same person who’d left a week earlier. Of course I’ll always remember standing on the Draft stage, visiting the Jets facility and meeting so many incredible people, but those memories are only part of the story. What I’ll carry with me most is the generosity, kindness and sense of belonging that seemed to follow me everywhere I went.

This trip reminded me that passion is something to be shared, not hidden. For years I’ve thrown myself into supporting the Jets, building Gang Green UK and trying to create a community where everyone feels welcome. Sometimes you wonder whether people notice.

They do.

If there’s one thing this journey has taught me, it’s not to be afraid of being passionate about the things that matter. Don’t be afraid to be loud. Don’t be afraid to care. Because when you’re genuine, people listen, and you never know whose life you might end up touching simply by sharing something you love.

Being named International Fan of the Year was an incredible honour.

Leaving with an even greater belief in the power of community was the real reward.