Warning: There might be spoilers after this, but honestly, I blacked out while writing and can’t be held responsible for what’s below. Proceed with caffeinated caution.
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I stream everything. If it’s not popping up on my home screen like a needy ex, I don’t know it exists. And yes, I fully accept that my entire sense of time and “new release” energy is dictated by whatever app I happen to open. Don’t judge me—judge the streaming wars.
But imagine my surprise when I fired up Hulu (or was it Disney+? They’re the same chaos monster now) and Welcome to Wrexham hit me with a two-episode season premiere. Back to back to back. Like it’s dropping albums in the ’90s.
Now, here’s where it gets personal. The new CEO, Michael Williamson? Yeah, he used to be the CFO of D.C. United—my team. Vámonos! I was already a fan of the show, but now? Bigger fan. Full-on “I’m emotionally invested and yelling at my screen like they can hear me” levels of fan.
And yes, I’ll admit it—I followed the team all season on Paramount+ already. So, technically, I know how it all ends. But as a football (that’s real football, keep your American football nonsense out of this) fan, this behind-the-scenes, heart-on-the-sleeve documentary style hits me right in the feels. Honestly, more teams should do this. Imagine how much more tolerable some franchises would be if we actually knew the people behind the badge instead of just the overpriced merch drops.
Speaking of behind-the-scenes, can someone explain why it’s impossible to stream Wrexham’s women’s team without signing up for yet another app? I’m already knee-deep in NWSL streams, following the Washington Spirit (because, yes, I’m proudly from the DMV and will defend it accordingly), but come on—just let me live my football life without adding another subscription to the growing list of regrets.
And before anyone comes at me with “But what about the Washington Commanders?!”—no. Just no. I don’t do American football. I don’t get it, and at my age, I’m not learning new tricks. Y’all have fun with your overcomplicated scoring system and endless timeouts. I’ll be over here appreciating a proper game played with feet and actual drama.
What really makes Welcome to Wrexham special, though, is how it dives into the stories of the people—the fans, the small business owners, the everyday legends who make the club what it is. Maybe it’s because I’m from a small town myself, and those stories hit a little harder. It’s nostalgia with a side of reality check. Like, yeah, I miss that sense of community…until I remember my hometown is economically depressed and has all the cultural diversity of a mayonnaise sandwich. There’s a reason I left, but man, the heartstrings still get tugged.
Also, someone please give that woman with the horse box coffee shop her own spin-off. Protect her at all costs.
And look, I have to admit—I’m a Ryan Reynolds fan. Have been since Two Guys and a Girl. (If anyone finds that streaming somewhere, shoot me a DM immediately. I will binge it without shame.) I’ve even watched The Voices, and if you know, you know.
Even though I’ve already seen most of Wrexham’s games this season, every time they show a recap, I’m right back in it. Shouting at the screen like it’s happening live, emotionally wrecked over goals I already know are coming. That’s the magic of football.
Oh, and apparently Tom Brady is a minority owner of Birmingham City now? That’s…fine, I guess. But also—no. Stick to whatever American football thing you do and leave the real football to the rest of us.
Finally, can we talk about Rob McElhenney’s whole “if there’s a 1% chance, take the shot” philosophy? I respect it. But me? If there’s only a 1% chance, I’m regrouping, sipping my overpriced latte, and plotting something more reasonable. That’s why he’s out here owning football clubs, and I’m over here…writing this blog.
But hey, thanks to him (and Reynolds), we get Wrexham—and honestly? That’s a win for all of us.
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