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VERY LONG tweet but I hope you'll take the time to read it. Kevin Joseph Campbell has passed away, at the cruelly young age of 54. While it is an inevitable fact that all people – whether family members, friends, strangers, sporting or show business idols, everyone – eventually meet this fate, this is the hardest to grasp, the most confusing to make sense of, as to why something so awful could happen to someone so purely and completely wonderful. While I cannot stop from happening what has happened, none of us can – I would like to share with you some of the multitude of reasons why “Super” Kev was “Super” – and the absolute best of all of us. The fact that so many people reading this will already have known why Kevin was “Super” is testament to the man’s greatness. I first laid eyes on Kevin Campbell in text form. It was 1988 and I, as a 15 year old American finding myself in London for two years as my stepfather’s job brought us there, somehow ended up regularly on the North Bank Terraces of Highbury, 90 minutes before kickoff (to make sure to get my spot) armed with a pint of scotch, a diet coke to chase it with, and an Arsenal game programme to help pass the time. It was in that game programme that I would see Kevin’s name – in the “Reserves and Youth” section. I noticed that he was virtually always listed amongst the scorers and heroes of the squad, to the point where it became a regular tradition for me to open the programme and go directly to that page to see how many goals Kevin had scored since the last programme was out. He became this mythical creature, this young man who clearly was becoming too good for that level, but would face stiff competition from Smith, Merson, Marwood, Groves in the senior team’s attacking force. I wondered when I would see him on the pitch at Highbury, and whether his youth form would replicate on the biggest of stages. What I didn’t know at the time was that he was very much on the fringes – spending time and travelling with the first team before (and after) going to Leyton Orient on a loan spell where his form in front of goal (9 in 16 games) made him a hero and carried that team to promotion to the third tier. Thankfully, George Graham rebuffed Orient’s understandable attempts to sign him permanently – he was far too good for third tier. Kevin made it back to Arsenal from loan in time to be with the club for its crowning moment – 26 May 1989 at Anfield. Fast forward to 7 March 1990, a home match against Nottingham Forest. After returning from a half-season loan to Leicester City, Kevin was (finally!) brought off the bench as a second half sub, replacing Merse. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Kev put the ball in the back of the North Bank net that day – finishing off a 3-0 win. I will never forget that moment – even 34 years later – because it was so anticipated to see him and he delivered, taking a nifty flick from Smudge, driving towards goal and cooly finishing to the far post. Who was the first person he celebrated with? A high-five to the steward standing on the west side of the North Bank. This was not an inconsequential moment, as it may have been the first of many times that Kevin, now a senior professional superstar, would share special moments with “ordinary” people. Kevin’s footballing career took him to some amazing places – holding FA Youth Cup, First Division, FA Cup, League Cup, and European Trophies in his time in North London, moving to Nottingham Forest where he played a major part in their promotion to the Premier League in 1998, then to Turkey for a brief spell with Trabzonspor where he ultimately left the club in protest over his teammates not being paid (as well as some other unpleasantness with club leadership). Eventually he arrived at Everton in March of 1999, where he immediately (and virtually singlehandedly) kept Everton from relegation by scoring goals in bunches from the off and eventually became Everton Football Club’s first black captain. His final stops were West Brom (where once again he helped save the club from relegation with his goals) and Cardiff City, where his brilliant 20 year senior career came to an end. So that’s Kevin Campbell the footballer –a prolific footballer with a knack for scoring massive goals at vital times, assisting in the winning of trophies, the avoidance of relegation, and promotions for virtually every team he was part of. But even more – a beloved teammate, a leader, a virtuous man who soaked up every bit of deserved adulation and praise from those who supported the clubs for which he played. If that were the extent to which I knew Kevin Campbell, I would be very sad today over the loss of a great footballer. Sadly today, but truly fortunately, that is not the extent to which I (and so, so many people) knew Kevin Campbell. Fast forward again to 11 March, 2018. It is a day that I have long called my favourite day as a Gooner despite it not lining up with any massive footballing outcomes. I once again found myself in North London, visiting and taking in my beloved Arsenal against Watford. The day began in a pub sharing drinks, stories, and laughs with a friend and another truly great (and sadly departed) man, David Faber aka “Goonerholic.” It was always wonderful to start these days connecting with a bridge to Arsenal’s past, and I valued those conversations greatly. From there it was off to the game to meet up with more of the great new friends I’d made in recent years. Would you even believe that in this 3-0 win, we saw the absolute rarest of footballing feats – a Petr Cech penalty save against Troy Deeney! On a high from watching a pleasurable Arsenal performance, we flocked to the Twelve Pins for our usual postgame drinks and to revel in our victory. One of our friends, Lee, was missing – but I got a text from him that he had a surprise for us. 5 minutes later, out of the corner of my eye, I see Lee bouncing towards the pub with a special friend in tow – none other than Super Kevin Campbell. By that time, I had been lucky enough to have Kevin as a guest on our podcast, but never envisioned I’d ever have the opportunity to meet him in person. Dressed impeccably (as always), wearing a red shirt with black jacket and black cap, he rolled into the outdoor patio of the pub and immediately started singing Arsenal chants with the dozen or so of us who were gleefully jumping up and down with him. Kevin took time to personally greet everyone, shook hands, gave out hugs, bought pints and accepted pints bought for him, and just “hung” with us for hours. It wasn’t an “appearance” or a token gesture, he was truly being a fan, a fellow supporter gleeful at our win on the day, an equal, a Gooner. I of course was giddy and the full circle of it all, exactly 28 years to the week that I watched him score his first goal for The Arsenal. We facetimed my mate Andy who was in Colorado to wish him a happy birthday and taunt him for missing out on this epic event. The evening got fuzzy after a while, but I woke up the next morning (on my 45th birthday) with a smile on my face from a truly epic evening meeting one of the heroes of my Arsenal youth and celebrating together like mates. Those scenes would be repeated several times over the following 6 years. At pubs before and after Arsenal games on occasion. On podcasts where he occasionally joined us to have a nice chat. In Manchester whenever I happened to be there, taking time to sit with us (and buy us drinks, he never let me buy) at his favourite local pub, O’Shea’s Irish Bar on Princess Street. It was there that Kevin met my son Jake for the first time, and on a separate trip my wife Stephanie. He was truly a friend, someone I didn’t feel like I was “bothering” when asking for his time, his company, or a favour that was something only he could do (like recording special messages for birthdays and other special events for people I cared about and therefore he cared about). Yes, it’s a well known “truism” that you should “never meet your heroes” but Super Kevin Campbell stood that theory on its head. I found myself forgetting (briefly) at times Kevin the footballer and just enjoying this man, this new friend I had made, one of many friends I’ve made as a result of loving this football club together. And that’s the thing - you didn't even have to know him well to know who he was and what he meant. His outstanding football career was the springboard into our consciousness. But only the springboard. Who he was as a person, how he conducted himself, the experiences and philosophies that he shared with anyone that would take the time to listen, has forever changed what athletes and "celebrities" have the capacity to be to even the most "distant" of admirers. I’d love to share a few more personal stories of my all-too-brief friendship with Super Kev. In October 2018, a few months on from first meeting Kev in person in London, I was back visiting England from the US and my mate Tom and I jumped on a train to go see Everton host Crystal Palace – our first trip to Goodison Park. As we approached the “FanFest” area outside Goodison, I heard a familiar voice over the loudspeaker, only to look up on the “stage” to see Super Kevin Campbell, decked out in a dapper all-blue suit, being interviewed and co-hosting the pregame entertainment for the Toffee supporters gathered around. It felt strange, seeing Kevin in a non-Arsenal environment, but I was happy to see him. I wondered if he’d remember me from our meeting earlier in the year, especially with me not wearing Arsenal colours, but I took a chance and told my friend Tom “watch this” as I pushed my way up to the front of the crowd near the stage. Tom and I still laugh about what happened next – Kevin glanced out onto the crowd while he was talking and saw me – instantly derailing his concentration. He had a look of “what is that guy doing in this setting” and for about 3-4 seconds, people must’ve wondered what was wrong with him because he completely lost his concentration before re-centering and picking up on his interview. A few minutes later, at the end of his duties, he came bounding off the stage, flying past Everton supporters who were waiting to greet him, and gave me a huge bearhug and a “what are you doing here?” laugh. In that moment, in that setting, I felt about 10 feet tall. Kev had a special way of making people feel, well, special and that moment is burned into my memory as a hilariousy funny and warm moment we shared together. After the game, we coordinated to meet up at the Winslow Hotel pub, right across the street from Goodison Park, and attempted to catch up and have a couple of pints together. I say “attempted” because Kevin was absolutely mobbed by Everton supporters. It was at that moment that my general knowledge of his positive time at Everton was met with the realization that he was truly a club Legend with a capital “L.” Even though Tom and I didn’t get as much time with Kevin as we’d hoped, it was an absolute treat to be able to witness the way Kevin was being lauded and adored, as he took picture and after picture, signed shirts, lifted a glass, and had genuine conversations with every single person that approached him. Kevin also created something hilarious for me that will live on with affection and pride. As we podcasted more often together, both on our channel and on his beloved Highbury Squad podcast that he co-hosted with his brilliant and dear friend Sophie Nicolaou. On one occasion a few years ago (I can’t remember exactly when) he just started handing out nicknames. Out of nowhere, and for seemingly no reason at all, to Super Kevin Campbell I became dubbed “Magic” Mike. Now its important to me that people understand that I did not nickname myself Magic Mike – I neither look good shirtless, nor do I think I’m particularly magical – that’s the wonderful irony of the nickname. But where most nicknames are brief funny moments and don’t stick – this one stuck, because of who it came from. I’ve worn that nickname with pride, as a bit of a piss-take on myself, but mostly because it makes me smile and remember Kevin fondly. My favourite part of this, and the one I will miss the most, is how he never called me “Magic Mike” he just called me “Magic” as though that was my actual first name. He would interrupt me making a point by saying “But Magic, Magic, you have to realize….” or end a statement with “and its all part of the game, Magic.” I sometimes think he might’ve forgotten my name was even Mike and just renamed me altogether out of force of habit. I love him for that. Speaking of people I love, my family are of course my pride and joy, for so many reasons but among which is their enthusiasm and fervour along with me for everything Arsenal. Kevin met every member of my family at least once. He shared a visit at O’Sheas with my wife and myself. He met my daughter before the final game of the 2022 season (against Everton, of course). But it was his visits with my son Jake, himself a youth footballer and a prolific scoring striker, that were the best. The three of us just talked about football, about the skills, but mostly about the psychology and approach to the game. As a tactically NONastute football viewer, I prefer dwelling on the intangibles, chemistry, mental aspect of competitive sport. Kevin understood that and I think preferred those discussions to tactical ones himself. Jake and I found those conversations to be incredibly special, motivating, and appreciated. Jake, just the day before we lost Kevin, was proudly wearing his 2022 Arsenal shirt that Kevin had signed for him. Kevin was wonderful with my family, but the father he was to his own children even more special. I sadly have not personally (yet) gotten to know Kevin’s two wonderful sons, both footballers in their own right taking after their “Super” Dad. But I do know how much he loved them, supported them, and Tyrese’s social media tribute to his father is an absolutely beautiful while poignant reminder of what their father meant to them. Having lost my father at far too young of an age myself, I hope I can be of some comfort and friendship to his wonderful family at some point. Another memory of Kevin being “Super” was the summer of 2021, in Orlando Florida, where both Arsenal and Everton were meant to be playing an exhibition series. At the last minute, Arsenal cancelled their trip due to a COVID outbreak, but Everton still came, as did a significant number of both Everton and Arsenal supporters. One day, we had a Gooner party and fundraiser for Gooners v. Cancer that coincided with the pregame for the Everton game, and a table of Everton-clad supporters were sitting in the pub near us. I walked up, struck up a conversation, and it eventually turned to Kevin Campbell, our shared hero. They spoke effusively about how much he meant to them, and I mentioned that he was a friend, which they promptly mocked me for, accusing me of making it up. So of course, I hit a few buttons on my phone and within seconds, the table was passing around my phone to talk to Kevin via Facetime who was all too happy to take time out of whatever he was doing that day to talk to his adoring Everton fans. We made some friends that day, and I’m pretty sure we made their day. Kevin was, what so many “famous” people struggle to be, so generous with the most valuable resource that any of us on this earth have – their time. Kevin made time for so many people, which I suppose was made a bit easier by the fact that the man seemingly never slept. If you followed Kevin on social media, you know what I’m talking about – until he became ill there was one thing you could rely on to make you smile every day – a 4am (UK) tweet wishing everyone a message full of inspiration in the inimitable Kevin style. Wishing us a Super Sunday, a Happy Monday, a Terrific Tuesday, a Wonderful Wednesday, a Funky Friday, and of course, his famous “Dickie Bow Thursday” where he would always wear a bowtie aka “Dickie Bow” in honour of a dear friend of his from many years ago. Living on the East coast of the US, I saw these messages at 11pm just before bed and it always sent me to sleep with a smile on my face. Kevin also gave generously of his time for so many good causes – anything from a video or voice note for a friend of a friend who was celebrating or mourning something, to joining in and sharing his time and wisdom on a wide variety of Arsenal podcasts including Highbury Squad and many others – he loved the podcasting medium because it allowed him to connect with so many great people at the same time and interactively communicate with them. He helped to create a true community and family of podcast viewers who eagerly interacted with him, respected him, bantered with him, learned from him, and shared special moments with him. He was a rare person today who could have a spirited discussion, even disagreement, with someone and never cross the line of taking offense or having hard feelings. Every debate would end with a smile and loving words, and a greater message of peace and love for the community at large. And of course, Kevin always stepped up when it came to charitable causes. Kevin was among the first, and the most consistent, to give anything necessary – time, promotion, signed shirts, support, etc – to my charity Gooners v. Cancer and to so many other valuable charitable efforts. I’ve not met anyone with the ability Kevin had to do so much, for so many, yet never seem overwhelmed, stressed out, or burdened. In an age where sport and the celebrity culture have evolved and changed so much from what it used to be, into an often distant, sometimes combative relationship between “fans” and “idols,” it is a truly rare pleasure to see a man so universally loved by everyone, from so many corners of the footballing world, the media world (did I forget to mention that Kevin was an active pundit and studio panelist for many broadcasters around the world?), and beyond. Not a single person has anything negative to say about the man, and I’ve never quite seen such an outpouring of grief, mourning, and tribute for a footballer we have lost (since perhaps David Rocastle) where the tributes are about the man he was far more than the footballer he was, and he was an excellent footballer. We have, devastatingly, lost a quiet giant. A man who wasn’t outspoken, wasn’t flashy or wanting of attention but was relentlessly kind, selfless, available, accessible, sweet, warm, funny, astute, and most of all, loving. The Arsenal Family (and other teams and football as a whole) have lost one of the rarest of men, who should be emulated in their capacity to bring joy to so many and truly serve as a connecting force between the top of the game (the top talent playing the game) to the absolute roots and lifeblood of the game (the supporters like you and me). As the Beatles famously said: Three statements sum up my feelings for Kevin. First, the Beatle’s final words: “And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.” Never has this been more true than with Kevin. Second, Kevin’s own very wise words of advice. He ended every public appearance, podcast, and conversation with “Be sure to tell your loved ones that you love them… because you never know.” Truer words have never been spoken and I am forever grateful that I was able to tell him I loved him. And finally - it can only be one thing. I hope you are well and truly now At Ease, Kevin. At Ease.