NICHOLAS
WHAT’S IT TO YA?
July 25, 2026
For Nicholas Naughton-Rumbo, football has always been a constant. From trading Panini stickers as a kid to finding community through the game wherever life has taken him, his relationship with football has always extended beyond the pitch.
Today, Nicholas is the creative director of the Vancouver Southsiders, a supporters’ group for Vancouver Whitecaps FC. Through designing tifos, merchandise and more, he has found a way to blend his love of the game with his passion for creating—helping shape how the Southsiders represent themselves in the stands and beyond.
We chopped it up with Nicholas about his earliest memories of football, moving to Canada, falling in love with the Whitecaps and the importance of finding community through the game.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
How did you fall in love with football? What’s your first memory of the game?
If I’m being completely honest, my first memory of football was collecting La Liga Panini stickers with my friend Jesse—still one of my best mates today. We must’ve been eight or nine years old. The little tuck shop at school sold packs for about 25p, so if I had a 50p coin in my pocket, I could buy two packs. Jesse supported Barça because his family supported Barça, so naturally I said, “Well, so do I.” I remember Ronaldinho, Eto’o, Belletti, Maxi López—all those players.
Looking back, it’s funny because those stickers taught you football without you even realizing it. You’d collect Barça, but you’d also end up learning about clubs like Deportivo Alavés, Levante and Cádiz. You weren’t trying to learn about football or geography—it just happened through osmosis. That was my gateway into the game.
Today, Nicholas is the creative director of the Vancouver Southsiders, a supporters’ group for Vancouver Whitecaps FC. Through designing tifos, merchandise and more, he has found a way to blend his love of the game with his passion for creating—helping shape how the Southsiders represent themselves in the stands and beyond.
We chopped it up with Nicholas about his earliest memories of football, moving to Canada, falling in love with the Whitecaps and the importance of finding community through the game.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
How did you fall in love with football? What’s your first memory of the game?
If I’m being completely honest, my first memory of football was collecting La Liga Panini stickers with my friend Jesse—still one of my best mates today. We must’ve been eight or nine years old. The little tuck shop at school sold packs for about 25p, so if I had a 50p coin in my pocket, I could buy two packs. Jesse supported Barça because his family supported Barça, so naturally I said, “Well, so do I.” I remember Ronaldinho, Eto’o, Belletti, Maxi López—all those players.
Looking back, it’s funny because those stickers taught you football without you even realizing it. You’d collect Barça, but you’d also end up learning about clubs like Deportivo Alavés, Levante and Cádiz. You weren’t trying to learn about football or geography—it just happened through osmosis. That was my gateway into the game.
When did you move to Vancouver? And what were your expectations of football here?
The funny thing is, I’d actually been to an MLS game before I moved here. In 2017, I was visiting Vancouver with my family, and whenever I travel somewhere new, I always try to catch a football match. The Whitecaps beat San Jose 4–1 at BC Place, and I bought a Whitecaps shirt—a long-sleeve with the diagonal stripe. I’ve still got it, and it still fits.
I moved to Canada in 2019, and I knew football was going to be part of my life somehow. I didn’t know what that looked like, but I knew I wanted to get involved. My first week in Vancouver in 2023, there was an away trip to Seattle. I didn’t know anyone, but I was determined to go. I even convinced my girlfriend to come because I needed at least one person I knew on the bus. A couple of hours into the trip, this guy Tony taps her on the shoulder and basically goes, “Who are you?” Not in a bad way—just because he’d never seen us before. By the end of the trip we were having beers with the Southsiders. It finished 0–0, but I was hooked. These people genuinely cared about their club. They travelled well, the atmosphere was incredible, and it all felt organic. When you move to a new city, you don’t know where you’re going to find your people. That bus ride to Seattle ended up being the start of everything.
You grew up supporting Barça. What’s it been like becoming part of football culture in North America?
Growing up in Gibraltar, there is a league, but because it’s such a small place, you probably know the players personally. You don’t really grow up with your club in the same way. As a kid, you naturally gravitate towards either England or Spain, and Spain always felt closer to home, so that’s how I became a Barça supporter. I’d go to games every year with my parents and watch away matches in southern Spain whenever I could. But when I got into my twenties and started following Barça around England while I was at university, I realized something: as much as I’d supported Barça my whole life, I wasn’t Catalan. I wasn’t really part of that community.
I’d never had my club. Then I moved to Canada. Football disappeared from my life for a few years while I was living in Whistler, but when I found the Southsiders, what struck me immediately was how welcoming everyone was. Because football is still growing here, people genuinely want you to be involved. From day one, it was, “Who are you? Where are you from? Thanks for coming.” That openness gave me the freedom to contribute. I’m a passionate person, and when I get involved in something, I give it everything. Through design, I’ve been able to help shape what football culture here looks like—scarves, stickers, tifos, banners, whatever it is. Every little thing people wear, wave, or stick on a lamppost, I want it to have character and personality.
The funny thing is, I’d actually been to an MLS game before I moved here. In 2017, I was visiting Vancouver with my family, and whenever I travel somewhere new, I always try to catch a football match. The Whitecaps beat San Jose 4–1 at BC Place, and I bought a Whitecaps shirt—a long-sleeve with the diagonal stripe. I’ve still got it, and it still fits.
I moved to Canada in 2019, and I knew football was going to be part of my life somehow. I didn’t know what that looked like, but I knew I wanted to get involved. My first week in Vancouver in 2023, there was an away trip to Seattle. I didn’t know anyone, but I was determined to go. I even convinced my girlfriend to come because I needed at least one person I knew on the bus. A couple of hours into the trip, this guy Tony taps her on the shoulder and basically goes, “Who are you?” Not in a bad way—just because he’d never seen us before. By the end of the trip we were having beers with the Southsiders. It finished 0–0, but I was hooked. These people genuinely cared about their club. They travelled well, the atmosphere was incredible, and it all felt organic. When you move to a new city, you don’t know where you’re going to find your people. That bus ride to Seattle ended up being the start of everything.
You grew up supporting Barça. What’s it been like becoming part of football culture in North America?
Growing up in Gibraltar, there is a league, but because it’s such a small place, you probably know the players personally. You don’t really grow up with your club in the same way. As a kid, you naturally gravitate towards either England or Spain, and Spain always felt closer to home, so that’s how I became a Barça supporter. I’d go to games every year with my parents and watch away matches in southern Spain whenever I could. But when I got into my twenties and started following Barça around England while I was at university, I realized something: as much as I’d supported Barça my whole life, I wasn’t Catalan. I wasn’t really part of that community.
I’d never had my club. Then I moved to Canada. Football disappeared from my life for a few years while I was living in Whistler, but when I found the Southsiders, what struck me immediately was how welcoming everyone was. Because football is still growing here, people genuinely want you to be involved. From day one, it was, “Who are you? Where are you from? Thanks for coming.” That openness gave me the freedom to contribute. I’m a passionate person, and when I get involved in something, I give it everything. Through design, I’ve been able to help shape what football culture here looks like—scarves, stickers, tifos, banners, whatever it is. Every little thing people wear, wave, or stick on a lamppost, I want it to have character and personality.
One word you keep coming back to is community. How would you describe the Southsiders community?
It’s cliché as fuck, but it’s my family.
When I moved here, I didn’t know anyone. Three years later, my closest friends are people I met through the Southsiders because I decided, on a whim, to go to the pub before a match. The people I spend birthdays with, the people I travel with, the people I see outside football—they’re all people I met through this community. That’s the beautiful thing about it. You meet people from completely different backgrounds, from all over the world, and everyone brings their own football story with them. In short, the Southsiders are my family.
What’s your favourite Southsiders memory?
There are a couple, but Mexico City last year has to be right up there. Around 500 Whitecaps supporters made the trip for the Champions Cup Final. The night before the match we’d organized a meet-up at an English pub called the Duke of Lisbon, and by the time we got there it was at capacity.
The place was packed with Whitecaps supporters—and about three Club América fans watching LAFC. We all hated LAFC enough that we ended up spending the night together. The best part was that it was an election weekend in Mexico City, so technically you couldn’t buy alcohol unless you ordered food. By the end of the night there were about a hundred beers, thirty mezcals...and one Scotch egg.
I still don’t know who ate the Scotch egg. Honestly, I don’t even know if it ever existed. The next day there were hundreds of Whitecaps supporters gathered in a beer garden before kickoff. Looking around Mexico City and recognizing familiar faces everywhere—that’s something I’ll never forget.
It’s cliché as fuck, but it’s my family.
When I moved here, I didn’t know anyone. Three years later, my closest friends are people I met through the Southsiders because I decided, on a whim, to go to the pub before a match. The people I spend birthdays with, the people I travel with, the people I see outside football—they’re all people I met through this community. That’s the beautiful thing about it. You meet people from completely different backgrounds, from all over the world, and everyone brings their own football story with them. In short, the Southsiders are my family.
What’s your favourite Southsiders memory?
There are a couple, but Mexico City last year has to be right up there. Around 500 Whitecaps supporters made the trip for the Champions Cup Final. The night before the match we’d organized a meet-up at an English pub called the Duke of Lisbon, and by the time we got there it was at capacity.
The place was packed with Whitecaps supporters—and about three Club América fans watching LAFC. We all hated LAFC enough that we ended up spending the night together. The best part was that it was an election weekend in Mexico City, so technically you couldn’t buy alcohol unless you ordered food. By the end of the night there were about a hundred beers, thirty mezcals...and one Scotch egg.
I still don’t know who ate the Scotch egg. Honestly, I don’t even know if it ever existed. The next day there were hundreds of Whitecaps supporters gathered in a beer garden before kickoff. Looking around Mexico City and recognizing familiar faces everywhere—that’s something I’ll never forget.
The name of this series is What’s It to Ya? So... what are the Whitecaps to you?
Opportunity.
The Whitecaps have given me a place to bring together the two things I love most: football and design. Whether it’s scarves, stickers, merchandise or tifos, I get to create things that become part of people’s lives. Someone hangs a scarf over their bedroom door, buys a sticker pack, or takes one halfway across the country—and that design becomes part of their football experience. People don’t always think about the fact that those things were designed, and they don’t have to. I actually love that. What matters is what they come to symbolize. More broadly, football here still feels like something we’re building together. The Whitecaps have over 50 years of history, but compared to so many clubs around the world, it’s still young. We’re writing that history now. The people showing up every week are the ones shaping what football culture in this city becomes, and that’s a pretty special thing to be part of.
Vancouver just hosted the World Cup, and a lot of people are going to catch the football bug. What’s your advice to them?
Just show up.
Go to a game. People might come because of the World Cup, the stars or the big names, but they’ll stay because of the atmosphere and the community. People always compare MLS to the Premier League, or Argentina, or Mexico. Sure, it’s different. But it’ll never become what it could be unless people invest themselves in it too. If you’re a football fan, I honestly think it’s your duty to help grow the game where you live. Support your local club. Get involved. Build something in your own city. One day you might not need to look across the Atlantic for a football club, because you’ll have one right in your backyard—and you’ll know you helped build it.
Photos & Interview: Tagwa Moyo
Opportunity.
The Whitecaps have given me a place to bring together the two things I love most: football and design. Whether it’s scarves, stickers, merchandise or tifos, I get to create things that become part of people’s lives. Someone hangs a scarf over their bedroom door, buys a sticker pack, or takes one halfway across the country—and that design becomes part of their football experience. People don’t always think about the fact that those things were designed, and they don’t have to. I actually love that. What matters is what they come to symbolize. More broadly, football here still feels like something we’re building together. The Whitecaps have over 50 years of history, but compared to so many clubs around the world, it’s still young. We’re writing that history now. The people showing up every week are the ones shaping what football culture in this city becomes, and that’s a pretty special thing to be part of.
Vancouver just hosted the World Cup, and a lot of people are going to catch the football bug. What’s your advice to them?
Just show up.
Go to a game. People might come because of the World Cup, the stars or the big names, but they’ll stay because of the atmosphere and the community. People always compare MLS to the Premier League, or Argentina, or Mexico. Sure, it’s different. But it’ll never become what it could be unless people invest themselves in it too. If you’re a football fan, I honestly think it’s your duty to help grow the game where you live. Support your local club. Get involved. Build something in your own city. One day you might not need to look across the Atlantic for a football club, because you’ll have one right in your backyard—and you’ll know you helped build it.
Photos & Interview: Tagwa Moyo
