Its a Funny Old Game

It was always going to be rather strange being in the US for the World Cup. This is, afterall, a country where the term "football" means something quite different than it does at home. I knew it wouldn't be the same as watching it in England but in a strange way I was looking forward to experiencing it in a totally different environment. I hadn't really know what to expect before I'd left home. I didn't even know if the games would be shown anywhere let alone in local bars and so on.

I had been in Nashville for England's opening game and amongst many a Brit also interested in seeing the match. The owner of the hostel was himself interested in watching the game and had meant an early start for all interested parties as we gathered in the common room for England v Paraguay. There was some frantic channel flipping to find the game where we discovered unlike the coverage back home, the programme started just as kick off was being taken. The performance on the pitch unfortunately didn't exactly excite the room and would have been enough for anyone unsure about the sport to wonder what all the fuss was about!

I'd watched the third of England's group games at the hostel in Dallas. Sat in the living room with the owner. As a guy of Mexican origin he was pretty exited about the Tournament and we had watched Mexico's game together as well. Obviously with no bars around it was pretty much my only choice for watching that particular game and was pretty enjoyable to watch it with a fellow football fan.

The Tournament itself had been given a lot more press and coverage in the US than I figured for. Advertisements were all over the TV and posters and fliers donned many a bar, however this extra effort seemed to have gone unnoticed in many parts with the majority of Americans I spoke to blissfully unaware that there was a tournament even going on.

One of my favourite moments was while sat up at a bar in St Louis when a guy got wind of me being a Brit and approached me, nervously and excitedly. He just wanted to talk football with someone! You could tell it was like sweet relief to him. Thoughts that had been bubbling around in his mind for God knows how long were bursting forth now and he looked like he was loving every minute of it! THAT is what its all about. I was equally as excited to be able to share that conversation with him.

I was in Albuquerque for England's Quarter Final game against Portugal. I was due to catch my flight later that morning and the airport shuttle bus was due to pick me up what was likely to be spot on full time. I'd had trouble persuading the owners of the Hostel to get their TV out. They didn't believe there should be one in the hostel and it had taken some swift talking to persuade them otherwise. I felt like I'd jumped into a DeLorean and zoomed back 40 years as I watched the game with fuzzy reception on a black and white set that appeared to be on its last legs. It was better than not watching the game though!

As full time approached, England down to 10 men my shuttle arrived. The scores were level and my shuttle was here. I tried to put it off for as long as I could but I knew I'd have to jump ship on the game and get on that shuttle to catch my flight. I asked the driver to try and find the game on the radio but no one was covering it. Not one single station out of the seemingly endless thousands that jam the airwaves here.

I arrived at the airport and disappeared off to the departure lounge just in time to see some disheveled England faces on the screen there. They'd gone out on Penalties, as they so often seem to do. I may have been in different country but that hurt feeling was still there ingrained. My plane was delayed a few hours to add insult to injury! Despite being several thousand miles away I knew I was going through the same emotions as all those on English soil. Still I had Vegas to look forward to! Vegas baby!!!