Two (American) Football Tales

Me: Well, I'm in England with the most basic of cable packages (i.e. all home shopping, all the time). So the fact that football season has begun in the States is mildly heartbreaking. I miss the anticipation of beginning a Sunday or Monday night not knowing which team was going to win. I miss the coinciding cool snap in the air reminding me of Friday nights in high school. I miss the reckless gluttony that accompanies each game, the indigestion inducing array of chips, salsa, wings, beer, and chili without which no football game is complete. I miss the yelling at the screen, the ridiculing of the commentators, the quick rushes to the bathroom to pee between plays (ah, thank goodness for TiVo). I miss it all. You can take the girl outta Texas, I suppose...

So last Monday night marked the first games of the season and I'm in London, a city which gets far more excited about a game that sometimes actually ends with a 0-0 score, but for the most part, leaves the NFL out of the TV lineup, especially on my aforementioned poopy cable package. So I went out in search of a bar or pub that would pipe in the Cowboys game....didn't happen, as it turns out the Sky TV sports network only shows one game, which happened to be New York v. Arizona. Good enough, I thought. I had to go to great lengths, but I found it: the Sports Cafe, an establishment reminiscent of all the places I would have scorned at home: the ESPN Zone, Hooters, Planet Hollywood...we're talkin' a TV in every corner, underdressed waitresses and overpriced beer. And something else that my years in California made me forget about: smoking allowed.

I watched the whole game from start to finish. I listened to the incongruous voice of a British commentator giving his take after each quarter. I drank two Guinness and ate what passed for decent nachos. I wore my Dallas Cowboy jersey and yukked it up with other Americans in town who'd also found this gap in the time-sports continuum. It was great. Thank you, Britain. I left with a scratchy throat and seered lungs and a bit less money.

I would have been super-satisfied with this, one of my most memorable football experiences ever...but I just got an IM from my mom. My brother, Micah, it so happens, was in a lottery at work. Now, the kid says he never wins anything, right. Well, when it rains it pours or whatever the expression is, because Mr. Lucky just won two tickets to the Super Bowl. All expenses paid. Hotel, flight, car, probably free hot dogs, too (I hate hot dogs; it's just the principle of the thing).

Anyway, it kind of puts a bit of a damper on my story, eh? Just kidding, Micah. I'm really happy for you. Nope, not bitter at all.

Sigh...wonder which home shopping show is on next...