THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
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SPORTS
by James Carroll Jordan Writing for The American can have its perks. One of them came in the shape of an invitation to Wembley Stadium to see the New England Patriots led by Tom Brady (of various hair-do and Ugg Boot fame) playing the St Louis Rams. It looked to be a slaughter and it turned out to be so, but the lopsided victory by the Patriots in no way took the shine or fun out of the evening. I went as the guest of The American’s editor, Richard, with press credentials and all the bumph that went with it. We even had our own personal press desk on the 30-yard line, with TV monitor, plus food pre-game as well at half time. The view was fantastic and the comfort satisfying. With the roof open, the English weather intruded as much as it could. Luckily, I dressed warmly. We were under cover, but on the field, it rained on the players, refs, cheerleaders, and our photographer, Gary, who was getting soaked on the sidelines. But then he was right there in the thick of things, near the action and the cheerleaders, so I didn’t have much sympathy. (To his credit, he didn’t ask for any.) The atmosphere was electric and I was like a kid in a candy shop. I love NFL football and watch it religiously at home on TV much to my wife Jan’s chagrin. It really upsets her when the major league baseball season overlaps the beginning of the football season. I only get away with it because I claim it is the only way I can keep in touch with my American roots. Which in a way is true, since I get back stateside so infrequently these past years. In any case, Jan more or less puts up with it. But back to the game… It started out well enough with both teams scouring on their first possessions. Richard and I looked at each other and smiled thinking we were in for a great competitive game. It didn’t work out that way. The Rams’ first score was their last, and the Patriots were just warming up; they’d scored 45 unanswered points by the time it was over. But I didn’t care a bit. First of all, I’m a Patriot fan anyway. I used to be a Ram fan back when they were in Los Angeles, but when they moved to St Louis, I gave up my support forever. The reason I say I didn’t care was because I was sitting there in my press-pass comfort watching a live game! In person!!! Yippee!!! It seemed to me that everything was being done just for me. The players were grunting, hitting and sweating just for me, as were the cheerleaders. Did I mention I just love cheerleaders? Well, I do. I could watch a whole game of just them doing cheers. Not that they were very talented as dancers or anything (after all I’ve done my share of musicals and do know what great dancing is), but they are so much fun to watch. I love it when they aren’t in sync; it amuses me no end when one drops her pom poms and then tries to catch up with the routine. It just takes me back to my years in America watching countless High School, College and the occasional NFL game. Football and cheerleaders are just like peanut butter and jelly. They just flat out go together. They complement each other perfectly. And both are satisfying and yummy. My only regret about the evening was that I didn’t get a chance to interview any of them. We did attend the Rams’ after-game press conference and got to ask a few questions to the losing coach Jeff Fisher, but that was like pulling teeth from a grumpy grizzly bear. I mean, after all, his team had their lunch handed to them on a plate by the Patriots, and he really didn’t have anything to say except platitudes and a few mumbled weak excuses. I actually felt sorry for him. It’s part of his job, but I didn’t envy him it. But even that was fun for me. The sports writers jumped on him like jackals on a wounded water buffalo. I thought my wife questioned me closely and brutally. Well, she doesn’t have a patch on those guys. I think Richard was the only writer there who asked a pleasant question, about whether Rams star running back Steven Jackson was being phased out. Fisher said no (fact check: last five games – 19 touches, 18 touches, 15 touches, 12 touches, and at Wembley, 9 touches -Ed.), that there wasn’t really any point in running him out there in such a lopsided loss. In the car back home, Richard and I debated that. Richard thought they should have used Jackson more than they did because of the 84,000 fans that paid big bucks to see the best each team could field (and because they’d used him to promote the game -still-not-surrendering Ed.). I thought Fisher did just what I would have done and save my star for better days. But then that’s the fun of being a football fan. There is always something to argue about. And it’s fun to do so, and builds a bond between guys. After all, Richard and I had never actually met in person before, but spending a few sporting hours together, we fast became friends. Before I end, I have to mention all the British fans. Richard and I began the day attending the tail gate party, a must at all American stadiums. Fans dress up in their sports jerseys and hats and cook humongous BBQs off the tail gates of their trucks and station wagons, and everyone shares with one another, and drink, and shout, and argue, and generally have a whale of a time. The Wembley Tail Gate bash was packed to the rafters with similarly attired British fans having just as much fun as we do back in the States, all deliriously excited and quite fanatic, just like American fans. They wore football jerseys and silly rubber hats and carried their favorite team flags, just like in America. The only difference I could see was the British fans were slightly less large than their American counterparts... American fans seem to all top 300 pounds, the British ones only around 250. And of course there was the difference in their way of speaking English. Oddly enough, their being fans of American football seemed to bring everyone together, American and English (plus a scattering of Scottish) into one big melting pot of football-frenzied joy. I really felt like I was home. I give a heartfelt thank you to Richard and Gary from The American for allowing me to be a part of it. I also highly recommend any ex-pat Yank to pony up and buy tickets for next season's games. Yes games! They are going to have two NFL games at Wembley next season. And there is a rumor that someday there may be a team based here in London. We can only hope. |

