It’s 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday in Milwaukee, WI. The city is still asleep, the sky just starting to lighten, and I’m hunched over the TV in an Aston Villa hoodie. My dog is lying right next to me, and I am trying not to wake my girlfriend as Aston Villa kicks off against Tottenham. It’s early, too early, some would probably say, but this is what being a Villan abroad looks like. Bleary eyes, strong coffee brewing, a beer in your hand, and unwavering commitment to the claret and blue.
Aston Villa is no longer just the pride of Birmingham, it’s the heartbeat of thousands around the world. From Kenya to Mexico, India to Indonesia, fans in every time zone have claret and blue intertwined into their routines. Some inherited the club through family ties; others stumbled into it. Maybe they tagged along to the pub with a friend, were drawn in by history or a standout player, or even a random FIFA career mode that somehow turned into a lifelong obsession. One thing is certain: you don’t find Villa, Villa finds you. And once it does, good luck escaping it.
We check lineups 60 minutes before kick-off while we pretend to look at Excel spreadsheets. We track the score from the wedding reception of that cousin we barely know (and secretly wish this would wrap up before full-time). We whisper “Up the Villa” in the dark, in a silent home while the rest of the country sleeps. If we are lucky, only our pets get startled when we scream for the last-minute winner by Ollie Watkins.
Kickoffs at 3 p.m. in the UK? That’s 10 p.m. in Bangkok, 5 a.m. in Sydney, and 7 a.m. on the West Coast of the U.S. Every match demands a choice: do you sacrifice sleep, skip breakfast, or pretend your “bathroom break” during work just happens to line up with kickoff? It’s rarely easy, never ideal, and always slightly unhinged. But it’s worth it.
And if Villa wins? The adrenaline makes you forget the ungodly hour and jump-starts your day more than that coffee ever could. You’ll float through the day like you’ve just won the lottery, even if no one else in line at your local coffee shop knows why you’re grinning like a maniac. If Villa loses? You're silently mourning, replaying every missed chance while pretending to be emotionally available in social situations.
Someone may ask if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. You’ll say, “No, Villa just conceded in stoppage time.” Your friends, family, and coworkers probably stare at you, visibly confused and slightly concerned that eleven men can affect you like this. If you're lucky, there is a pub with fellow Villans to vent to. But for most of us, there is no pub buzz. No chants. Just the glow of a screen and the sound of either your frustration or jubilation breaking the silence.
What makes it all bearable is the online Villa family. Social media has become the global Holte End, Twitter/X, Reddit, fan forums, and podcasts bridge the physical divide. You laugh, cry, and rage alongside strangers who feel more like friends, just because you all lose your minds when Ollie Watkins scores a brace.
You learn to rely on UTV Aston Villa Fan Channel or 1874: The Aston Villa Channel to give you perspective and a friendly voice to lean on. You check the NBC Sports highlights and post-match threads to feel close to the action. And even if you’ve never been to Villa Park, you know exactly what it means when someone says, “He’s one of our own.” Being an international Villan can sometimes feel like shouting into the void.
You wear your kit around town, and nobody gets it. All the Manchester City, Manchester United, and Chelsea fans ask you, “Why would you support a team such as Villa?” You try to explain the magic of the 7–2 win over Liverpool or the 1-0 victory against Bayern Munich in the Champions League, but people just blink at you. You're a lone voice in a different football culture, if you’re lucky enough to have any football culture at all.
But that shirt? That badge? It means just as much, even oceans away. It represents identity. Loyalty. Pain and pride - sometimes in the same match. And in this new Emery-led era, it represents hope for something we haven’t dared to feel in years.
As the season wraps up and we drift into our warmest months of the year, we can't help but feel the cold embrace of not watching our team, week in, week out. We aimlessly scroll through our social media, refreshing pages, praying to read news of a transfer. Maybe even a new superstar on their way to Villa Park. That one post, that one rumor to iginate the sleeping gaint, is enough to make these summer nights feel a little less emtpy. Then the unthinkable happens, we hear the news of a preseason tour in our land.
Every international fan dreams of making the pilgrimage to Villa Park. To stand in the Holte End. To sing “Sweet Caroline” after a big win. To hear 40,000 people roar for the same reason your heart is pounding at home. But once in a while, the Villa gods reward our devotion with a preseason tour. Suddenly, the club we’ve only seen through our screens is right in front of us: in our time zones, in our city, in our stadiums that only know our version of football. You hear chants echoing off unfamiliar bleachers.
Familiar connection with Aston Villa
You spot someone in a retro Dalian Atkinson or Jack Grealish shirt. And for a few glorious days, your hometown feels like a corner of B6. It’s surreal. It’s emotional. It’s a bit strange watching Villa play in 100-degree heat with fireworks going off at halftime. But it’s magical. We cling to these rare moments because, for once, we don’t have to adjust our lives for the club. The club comes to us. And for a few nights, the claret and blue doesn’t feel so far away.
Until that day comes, we carry the claret and blue wherever we are, wearing our scarves like armor, staying up late, waking up early, and never missing a kick if we can help it. Because no matter where you live, how you found the club, or how chaotic your sleep schedule has become, you're still Villa. Bounded by pride, driven by passion, and forever prepared.
Up the Villa.