Mark Whitwood: Remembering Guy. Remembering the Norwich City family.

Three points. Promotions. Relegations. Derby days…

And then something happens that reminds you it isn’t.

Yesterday, many of us gathered in Norwich to say goodbye to a friend. Born in Norwich, but a Northern Canary from 2004. One of our own, Guy Williams, taken far too soon at the age of 49 after his battle with Motor Neurone Disease.

Guy wasn’t just someone who watched Norwich City. He lived it. Home and away, year after year. A season ticket holder alongside his mum and dad, Jackie and Eric, in the Lower Barclay, his place filled with passion, optimism and that familiar smile. That seat will feel different now, but his mum and dad will be there today, just as they always have been, supporting the club, and carrying Guy with them.

I first heard about Guy in the best way possible, through a simple exchange on a northern train with my dad, Jon.

“Are you Norwich?”

And just like that, he was handed a bacon bap and a coffee.

That’s how football works. No introductions needed. Just a shared connection and suddenly you’re part of something. From that moment on, Guy became part of the Northern Canaries and what started as shared journeys to Norfolk and to many an away day became a friendship that lasted over two decades.

He was, as so many have said this week, just easy to be around.

The kind of person you could sit next to for five hours on a motorway and never feel the time pass. The kind who made away days better, not just because of the result, but because he was there. The laughter, the stories, the moments... they mattered more because of him.

And Guy was there for all the moments...

Street parade for Nigel Worthington’s heroes.

The unforgettable days under Paul Lambert.

The magic of Daniel Farke’s title-winning sides.

And, of course, Wembley, the big stage, the big occasion where, like so many of us, he was there to live it, feel it, and share it. A lifetime memory.

Because that’s what it was always about for Guy, being there watching his beloved Norwich City.

When he was diagnosed with MND, everything changed, but in many ways, he didn’t.

The same warmth. The same humour. The same optimism. The same strength.

He faced it with a courage and dignity that goes beyond words. His last game at Carrow Road came over Christmas in 2024, before his battle grew even tougher.

This week, we’ve also heard from another Norwich supporter, Jonny Butcher, sharing his own MND story on BBC Radio Norfolk, embraced by the club and the wider football community.

It shows what football can really do.

Connect. Bring people together. Create a family.

We’ve seen it nationally with Kevin Sinfield, who has run, run and run again in support of MND in memory of Rob Burrow.

And here we are seeing that same spirit. Norwich City is a football club, a community in a county to be proud of.

MND is a cruel disease. It takes far too much, far too quickly. But what it cannot take is the impact someone has on others.

Guy leaves behind more than memories of matches.

He leaves friendship. He leaves laughter. He leaves stories that will be told in pubs and in stands for years to come.

And he leaves us with a reminder.

To look out for each other.

If Guy’s story has done anything this week, it’s reminded us that we all have the ability to help someone else, even in the smallest of ways.

Motor Neurone Disease is cruel, but the response to it doesn’t have to be. Awareness, support and funding make a real difference.

If you can, please take a moment to go here and support in Guy’s memory. All donations go directly to MND.

So today, whether you’re at Carrow Road, watching from afar, or simply thinking of those you care about, take a moment.

Check in. Reach out. Do something small.

Because sometimes the smallest things mean the most.

Never mind the danger.