Come On England!

Tired, hungry, and bored, the two minutes I took to stop and smell the roses turned out to be the best decision I made in recent history. I walked out of the gates of the park and saw a group of England fans headed my way (my detective skills told me so due to everyone wearing an England national jersey). My map didnt have Wembley on it and it looked like these guys knew where they were going. So I asked them how to get to Wembley and one of them (wearing a yankees hat of all things) started to point out the directions. Noticing that Wembley was off the map and I clearly was from out of town he extended an invitation to have a beer and enjoy the pregame atmosphere with him and his friends. I duly obliged. It was a no-brainer. I was looking for some company and these guys seemed like diehards I had always envisioned England being full of. After being down in the doldrums my spirits were given just the boost they needed. I started small talk with a few of them on my way to whatever pub they had in mind. All six of them were from a town called Wolverhampton, which is a fair distance north of London, closer to Manchester than London, I believe. All but one was a lifelong Wolverhampton Wanderers fan, a team that plays in the Championship and narrowly missed out on a promotion to the Premiership. I found out through conversation that Wolves overachieved last season and really didnt have much of a chance to move up. The one anomaly was an Aston Villa fan. His grandfather was a Villa fan and so it was just ingrained into his head as a young child. The pledge of allegiance to a team has always been intriguing, but I've always enjoyed knowing why someone likes a particular team. We walked about a half-mile or so before we reached our pregame destination, The Globe. It was your basic London pub and it was on a corner. This place had the ability to take advantage of nice days with its sidewalk patio, and Friday was no exception. Fans were all over the place, I am sure that you are sick of the Red Sox references but its the only way I can compare the two: Imagine Yawkey Way before the first pitch but on a main road in London. Fans spilled out onto the street and there was no chance of you rounding the corner on the sidewalk. The place was really buzzing. It was the first full international match for England back at Wembley, world favorites Brazil were in town, and a certain David Beckham was back in the lineup. It was going to be the first match for Becks since being dropped from the team after another disappointing World Cup run in 2006. The focus of the conversation with my newfound friends often turned to David Beckham and what kind of impact he would have on the MLS. I told them that I really think he could help the MLS turn the corner, I gave a few reasons and they seemed to buy it. I took a moment and realized that I just convinced a handful of English football fans that David Beckham belongs in the US. I was fairly proud of myself. As we sipped our beers and talked about travels, what sights I should see, and more importantly football, the topic of how I got my ticket and what I paid for it came up. When I told them the amount I paid, they all grimaced and laughed, but they were impressed with my efforts. Due to the fact that it was my first real football match and my financial loss they bought me a beer, a nice consolation prize. The time was beginning to grow short so we finished our beer and headed towards the closest tube station, baker street (I wonder if that was the baker street that Gerry Raferty referred to?). We managed to catch the tube that was just about to leave. I all my years of using public transportation I can say that without a doubt that was the most God awful experience I ever had. I barely had enough room for my lungs to expand in order to accommodate the incoming oxygen. If I had a genie at that moment in time, I would have wished for him to temporarily suspend my sense of smell. Thats how bad it reeked, not to mention it was about 138 degrees (Fahrenheit, I have no clue what the conversion is for Centigrade) inside the subway car. In order to pass the time, one of the guys attempted to explain cricket to me. I just smiled and nodded. We finally reached our stop and walked out to Olympic Way (Wembley is the focal point of the London 2012 Olympics) and there loomed the most awe-inspiring structure I had ever laid my eyes on.


Finally!

I had never seen such an imposing stadium before, nothing in the US rivals this modern day Colosseum, nothing. We and 90,000 others made our way down the street, it was still about a quarter-mile ahead. There were people everywhere, all you could was just walk behind the person in front of you. The fans were very lively, singing all types of songs and chants. Although I applaud their candor, the songs were very unoriginal. They were basically just saying 'England' repeatedly to the tunes of different songs, like the 'Ole, Ole, Ole' song. My personal favorite was 'I'm England til I Die!'. It was interesting to hear some people singing 'Ring of Fire' by Johnny Cash. Apparently this is an unofficial theme song for Liverpool (think Sweet Caroline). I made my way to the top of the ramp and parted ways with the guys from Wolverhampton as they were sitting on the opposite side of the stadium. Before I went inside I took a second to soak it all in. I looked behind me and there was just wave after wave of people entering Wembley. I never went to the Million Man March, but I have a feeling it looked something similar to what I was seeing.


The thousands of faithfuls are returning to the 'Cathedral of Football' according to Pele.

I made my way to the gate and officially entered Wembley. The architects of Wembley were smart ones. In most stadiums, if you have a seat in the south side of the stadium, you went over there and entered through the same gate as everyone else who was sitting in the south end, regardless of what level. At Wembley, not only do they take into account what end you are sitting in, but what level as well. So each level has its own entrance. I was in the west end on level 5 so I entered through Gate E with only other people in the west end level 5. Common sense goes a long way. It was a breeze to get to my seat. I just had to go up a few flights of escalators and I was at my seat. It was just about time for the players to come out and everyone was hurrying to find their seats. I read the rules and regulations on one of the postings and I found reason number 235 why I love football: prolonged use of a mobile phone is grounds for ejection from the stadium. I was thrilled to read that; there is nothing worse than sitting near a person at a game who is more interested in the he said/she said on the phone than whats happening on the field. Reason number 236: excessive and unneccessary standing is also cause for removal. So theres a chance that 'that guy' doesnt exist in England (at least at Wembley anyway). In what seemed like hours, the teams finally took the pitch, my first real match was underway.


The teams taking the pitch.

The English national anthem gave me goosebumps, everyone was just so excited to be back at Wembley after the 8-year absence. It would be like losing Madison Square Garden for 8 years.


This needs to be incorporated in more US sporting events.



Thank You.

At the start of the match everyone was glued to the action, it was filled with singing and chanting from all parts of the stadium. I figured that this was just people getting all of the energy out of them in one fell swoop and that it would quiet as the game went along. This was far from the case. Every person in that stadium, old and young, did not lose their focus nor their intensity towards the game. Reason number 14 for my love of football: football seems to be the only sport where fans applaud something that could have happened. A player might make a nifty move to get past a defender and then send a pass that happens to be just a bit too high above the jumping teammate looking for a header into the net. In most cases the fans will clap for the fact that the player had the skill and speed to beat a defender and the vision to find an open teammate across the field. Its a wonderful example of how fans just truly appreciate and understand the game and the talent necessary to play it. Although there are surely casual fans, I couldnt spot any at Wembley during the game.

The game was deadlocked at half 0-0 with both teams having a few chances to put one on the scoreboard. Knowing that this was my only chance to use the restroom without missing any action, I made my way down. To be honest I was curious to see what the bathrooms looked like because as I had mentioned in previous posts I had did some research on the stadium and one of the boasts was that it had more toilets than any other facility on the planet. I was expecting to walk into a porcelain palace with hardly any wait. What I got was a ten minute wait only to share a trough with about 20 other guys. I find the whole 'most toilets' claim a bit debateable.

I returned to my seat for the second half and the fans picked up right where they left off. To be fair, the Brazilian fans deserve acknowledgment as well. They were vastly outnumbered but there were a few times where their chants echoed louder than any English chant. Not to mention there was constant Samba music; brass horns accompanied with drums. It was really fun watching them enjoy the game. Its like one big party to them. Not to mention they were hard to miss. They were a yellow and green blob in a sea of red.


The Brazilians always know how to have fun.

Back to the action on the pitch, England finally broke the deadlock when Captain John Terry headed home a free kick from none other than Mr. Beckham himself. The place went nuts. I think it reached decibel levels where if it was a factory it would be illegal not to wear ear plugs. Shortly after, Beckham was replaced and walked off the field to a standing ovation from the fans, its neat to see how much he meant to his country firsthand. When he was walking off, I heard the most creative song all night, David Beckham has his own song and everyone was singing it, but I couldnt quite make out the words. Fans seemed happy with the result, beating a Brazil squad featuring Ronaldinho and Kaka. But just as I was thinking that England played a great game, a costly lapse in concentration allowed Brazil to score a last-gasp equalizer. The Brazilian contingency went nuts. The final whistle blew and England fans walked out like they had just left a funeral. It was quite depressing to see that after all the excitement surrounding the homecoming before the game and up until the last minute of the game. In all truth, it was a fair result as Brazil were unlucky to capitalize on earlier chances in the game. I had to wait about 30 minutes just to get on a tube train in equally unpleasant conditions as when I arrived. And as tired as I was I really didnt mind, I just witnessed two of the greatest teams of my time play in the greatest stadium in the world (FINALLY!).


(Note from the ref: If you were hoping to get weird car of the week and other information (seeing how I started my internship this week), its going to have to wait until this weekend as Wembley is more than worthy of its own blog post.)