Sunday, November 4, 2012

English Football

I am not generally a person who makes lists. Perhaps it is because writing it down somehow feels like a contract to be completed, or maybe because I more frequently misplace the list than I do forget things that are on it. One of the things on my list, either mental or scribed, has been to attend an English Premier League match.

My mate Paddy got me watching and paying attention to the EPL back in '97 with his passion for Manchester United, the Yankees of the English League. Fortunately we can get the league matches on satellite in the States and I have spent many Saturday and Sunday mornings with games on my tele. There have also been an influx of American players to the league so the ties across the pond can be a bit easier to foster.

I landed on London early Friday morning and went directly to the hotel to drop off my luggage and spend a good chunk of what turned out to be a nice sunny day securing my football needs. First stop, White Heart Lane, home of Tottenham Hotspurs. I had booked my tickets online a few weeks ago by joining their fan club and picking up a ticket off their exchange service. Since Spurs have two Americans playing for them, I found it easy to root for the home team. I then ran across town to see if the Sunday matchup between QPR and Reading had tickets--and they did! So games for me on both days.

The experiences could not have been more different. White Heart was large and cavernous. The folks I sat with we regulars who talked more with each other than at or about the game. Loftus Road on the other hand was small, quaint, middle of the neighborhood with everyone chanting and paying close attention to the action. It felt like the difference between Miller Park and County Stadium in Milwaukee. Large, comfortable, impersonal vs. cozy, family, active. There were perhaps only 2% women at the Spurs game, today I would say it was more like 1 in 6 at the Rangers. Tons of sons and daughters cheering on Queens Park Rangers at Loftus.

The games were also very different. Hotspurs played like they were entitled to win and got beat by a much less talented side. QPR and Reading played like two teams at the bottom of the table who expect to fight it out to be spared relegation. Even though both of the Americans played well for Tottenahm (especially GK Friedel), neither team showed the passion of the QPR Reading draw. I enjoyed both of the experiences, but the second match was more what I was expecting to see when I came.

A few other thoughts about the play.
1) It is astonishing how much these guys can work a soccer ball in the air. Not just on free kicks, but nearly every single time the ball comes off their foot, it does not go straight. Not even close. It is hard to see the extent of the curve on TV, a bit easier where I was seated at White Heart Lane, but amazing to watch from my seat on the end line at QPR.
2) it was interesting to hear American songs being used by the fans. Battle Hymn of the Republic, Stars and Stripes, and My Darling Clementine were used at both stadiums with different lyrics. Sorry mom, no Welsh hymns.
3) I was surprised that the field seemed to play shorter and wider than its actual dimensions. Balls and players seemed to move up and down the field very quickly, but much more slowly side to side. I have not watched enough soccer live to know if it is usually that way, but in person I got that feeling and never got that sense form the TV broadcasts.

I thoroughly enjoyed the experience at QPR today against Reading. The Hotspurs game was not without some fun though. I played the dumb Yank and made friends with the Steward in my section who gave me a long history (he has been coming since '63) about the club, the field, the players, the coach, that this is a blokes event (hence few women), and on and on. Very nice fella and I think I made his day. Pretty sure he will weave me into his future yarns.

Well worth my time and money to go to both these.

- Uncle Phool

London Weekend

I needed to get away. Too many work days without a break and I had to escape. This week sort of came together during a series of conversations that all pointed at the UK for some R&R. Football, Scotch, cycling friends, a new bike.

I have been through London several times over the past ten years but only had stopped twice for a few days to sightsee. On my life list of things to do has always been to attend an English Premier League football match. I have managed to fit in two this weekend. More to come on that later.

There is also a part of me that I think was secretly trying to escape the election and all the nastiness and vitriol that has come along with it. The process is too long. I voted a couple weeks ago and just wish the calls and ads would stop. I stopped counting at one point, but there were about 19 fliers and TV spots about why the other person has failed or is somehow inadequate for every one mention of what a candidate will try to do and how. It appears however that I was not able to run away from it. One of the London papers calls it "The longest, gaudiest, silliest election." Refreshing to see how outsiders view it. Not sure I could have phrased it better. It will be over soon. Whichever way you lean, go vote. Your vote is your voice. Don't be silent.

I spent much of Friday running around securing my football needs, but did decide I needed to visit the British Museum since it is open late on Fridays. I have heard that it is big. Indeed. I am almost glad that I knew I did not have enough time so just went to one section. I made a quick run through part of the Greek section, decided I would not try and figure out who has the upper hand in the debate on ownership there, and went up to the history of the British Isles. Not sure why, but it seemed like I should. Long story short, Blah blah Druids, blah blah Pagans, then in 43 AD the Romans came and fixed it all up spiffy and the empire stole (or not) everything from the Greeks.

Actually I got completely distracted by an exhibition on clocks and one on money and before I knew it, I was being shooed out by the docents. OK, OK, I need to go back and spend more focused time there now that I know the extent of the collection they can show at once. Impressive, and well worth a stop any time you are in town.

A couple of other things have struck me on this trip. First is the food. I don't recall in my previous visits being impressed by the dining options. I always thought there were better selections than all the old jokes. It just seemed to me that there are even more interesting variety to be found this time around. Maybe it is that I was far afield of the tourist areas for much of this stay, or maybe there is more and more influence by the immigrant population. Perhaps a little of both. The pasties and pies are still good. I like that the fish and chips come with peas. There are just many more Asian and African choices. Outside one of my tube stops there was a Polish deli, next to a jerk chicken place, across from an Afghani take-out. Nice.

The second surprise has been the significant number of people who are not speaking english. Yeah, the tourists use many tongues, but in the Tottenham neighborhood, in the area outside the museum, out in Shepherd's Bush often I do not hear English. And when I do, it is a British accent on foreign speech that makes it almost impossible for me to understand. Perhaps that will get my ear in shape for Scotland. I expect that there will be challenges there too.

One last bit of culture before I leave London was to stop by Westminster Cathedral for the Sunday evening organ recitals. Impressive. Tonights was a Sonata on Psalm 93. I don't know that much organ literature, and even less Psalmisms, but the performance was exceptional and free. A very nice way to end three days in London.

- Uncle Phool