Friday, June 23, 2006

LondonTown Night One: I need a (World) cuppa

In which the author's search for authentic English football fans leads him to the only bar in London with an all-Swedish staff.

So, not having fully internalized the schedules of the Underground (a thing of beauty, by the way, and pictures just won't do it justice. We have so much to learn) I was about forty minutes late for the match, so I missed England's only goal up to that point. Undaunted, I finally chose a pub ("The Steam Passage," I wonder what that means?), found a seat at the bar, and ordered my Guinness, sure that that was the last goal the boys would get. Of course, a 1-0 would be pretty good, but Sweden's tying goal dampened spirits slightly (although there was a scary Scandinavian roar from behind the bar). I don't know how many of you watched the match, but in something like the 85th minute England scored again, and I got the basso cheers I'd been waiting for.

"This is good," I thought. "We'll finish the game on a positive note, I'll be able to strike up conversations about Brazil and Ronaldinho, and set out into the evening with a warm, cherubic British glow." Then, in minute 89, the Swedes scored, the staff had their verbal glee, and the game ended with a 2-2 tie, putting Sweden against Brazil, and England against Ecuador.

The mood now was one of calm resignation. Relief, almost, although Ecuador has been playing spectacularly so far, so I guess they still have a chance. I'm kind of undecided on this whole "Lots of chances to stay in" thing (as compared to our "Win or Go Home"). As a fifth grade teacher, I love the idea that hard work beats luck. As a sports viewer, I kinda need the high stakes.

Anyways, a rather unsatisfying evening on the whole, a feeling heightened by the only rain I've seen so far, as I walked home.
I don't know if you can see what's going on here, but it's two teenagers trying to flirt their way into a bar and the bouncers rejecting them. No doubt a worldwide phenomenon, but these guys are swilling their lagers while telling the girls they can't. You don't see that in L.A.

Where were these guys?

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