My initial thought was you can't really tell how this crowd will go. After all, with the British as their former masters (along with the Portuguese and the Dutch)...you'd think Sri Lankans might be up for some U.S. loving. Actually, this post is frog-hopping over another post I've mostly written up in which I talk about the Sri Lankans I've met so far and their strange love of Americans. I actually rethought posting that after this game. But, it doesn't help that I was watching the match amid a sea of England jerseys in a pub called "Cheers" at my hotel. I was one of two Americans at the place, and the other lady didn't know a thing about soccer and all her friends were cheering for the English. Ugh.
Anyway, kickoff was shortly before midnight. I got to the pub at about 10:30 p.m. Most of the seats were already taken, but when I asked some people if I could share their table, they asked me if I was American, and warmly welcomed me to their side of the table. In friendly antagonism a few Sri Lankans had decided to support the USA so they could taunt their English friend. Well, I guess I'd take any fans we could get...though not exactly my idea. What was cool is that a couple of the players actually play for the Los Angeles Galaxy, so I had many people to cheer for. Of course no one knew the American lineup, though I was familiar with the English players, namebrands really.
What the English don't get, and most of the other Europeans, is that the best male American athletes do not go out for football (aka soccer). They just do not. It's terrible that our second and third string, with the sheer exception of Donovan and Dempsey, are playing their first-rate, wimpy (yes, I said it), diving athletes. If you looked at the American fans, they were priamrily female, and sadly that's because the USA has a healthy young women's soccer population but little to speak (getting better) among young males. Sad, but true.
When the U.S. team came out, some individuals in the bar actually booed. It really pissed me off. I sat silently in my chair. Not really very sporting of them. Then the anthems. I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat because I have never sat down during the U.S. anthem, and wasn't planning too. The English had theirs first. One guy stood up, singing along, while the rest of the crowd hummed/sang their support. I got out of my seat and edged over to the side window, standing out of respect for the other team's anthem, but also because I wanted to be standing once the "Star Spangled Banner" played. When it did, the one other American looked over at me and stood up also. It was nice, though I did feel like a bit of a target. I don't like to call attention to myself in general, but especially not in large crowds in a foreign country with a recent civil war just over.
As the game got started, the U.S. played pretty terribly. Only Donovan showed any fighting spirit throughout the game. With England scoring at four minutes, the crowd got cocky. Meanwhile, our goalie Howard was taking a real beating. When he was lying on the floor after a save, people in the bar called him names and made fun of him. Yet the replay shows he was clearly slide tackled straight to the chest. Every time a U.S. player falls they suck it up, most times avoiding the fall by hopping over the field or player and righting themselves. After multiple times of having people in the crowd joke about real hits, I had enough. "Americans don't dive," I yelled at the nearest England fan. Then realizing my blood pressure had skyrocketed in about five seconds, I apologized and turned back to the game. Deep breaths.
For most of the rest of the game I was very very quiet. During halftime I said perhaps one word to someone, but stared at the screen pretty intently. The pub had a big projector up, and so it was quite nice, except for all the wait staff standing in front of it at the worst possible moments with orders. With all the drama, and my effort to control my responses to the crowd, I somewhat regretted not watching the game in the quiet of my hotel room. But at this point I was not walking out on the team amid all the England supporters.
In general, England showed more spirit, they kept the pressure on, went after loose balls, and created more opportunities. The U.S. was lethargic at the worst moments, never got into a flow, had trouble passing the ball around or taking their time with it. While England always seemed to have plenty of time, and patiently tried to create moments, the U.S. was always rushed, as if they were scared of the English players. The one thing the U.S. was very good at was stealing possession away -- but now they have got to translate that into more shots on goal. The only person who did that was Donovan. And Howard saved the USA's a*s. It was clear he was infuriated with his defense a lot of the time, I would have been also. For much of the first half the left defender seemed nowhere in sight. Wtf!
A few of the people I'd met from the group I was sitting with left mid-game, and one couple even paid for my drinks and snack. But I was so engrossed as they left, and so pissed, that I nearly forgot to thank them, or say goodbye. I did remember, shortly before they stepped out.
The only plus (and this is a very thin silver lining) of the U.S.'s terrible play was when Demerit got a yellow card, an Aussie girl bought me a drink. This because she liked the idea of Demerit getting a "demerit." Shrug.
Once the game ended I quickly checked with the bar staff to make sure all my bills were settled and I wasn't leaving anyone high and dry, then I made a quick exit out and up the stairs, to an elevator. Not quick enough though. The elevator went down instead of up, and I was back with the crowd. A bunch of England-jersey'd players got in with me talking shit about the U.S. team. "Face it, the Americans didn't do anything, England had a bad night"--something like that. "The way I see it, England got cocky, the underestimated the U.S., they were cocky after that first goal." A lot of it might have been true, but I was not really in the mood. I especially was not in the mood when one of the men in the elevator started joking with the girls, mockingly supporting the USA. "Oh, well, the goalie missed that goal because they were so scared of the USA coming for them." A bunch of bullshit. Yes, the U.S. goal was an embarrassment more for the English than a victory for the USA team. But, this is why every shot on goal - no matter how "easy" - is a key opportunity. You never know what may happen. As soon as the door opened to my floor, I thankfully exited the elevator. And here I am. Time to breathe...
Which reminds me, I believe the Lakers are playing soon.
IJW
I share with your sentiment...
ReplyDeleteLove, Mom