I am a Toronto FC supporter living in Calgary, Alberta, Canada.

No, there is no typo — I live in Calgary, which sits roughly 3500 kilometres (that’s about 2200 miles) northwest of Toronto, in the middle of the Canadian prairie.

I have only been to six TFC matches (five league, one Canadian Championship), and only one at the hallowed grounds that is the Lakeshore madhouse, BMO Field. Does that make me less knowledgeable about the team? Or less passionate? My fellow Red Patch Boys don’t seem to think so, nor do my colleagues at SBNation’s Waking the Red, whom I also write for.

Perhaps it was that now-infamous shower of seat cushions being beamed on CBC to my living room that warm May afternoon that drew me in, or perhaps it was the call of that goal by Nigel Reed that drew me in? I can’t say for sure. But from that day on, I wear my scarves with pride, and hang in a place of honour wherever I go.

I may be western Canadian to the bone, but my heart is Red until I’m dead.