Mission Patriots

So I've mentioned before that my flatmate Jack and his friend/honorary flatmate Andrew are from Boston and are rightly so addicted to the Red Sox and the Patriots. They've subscribed to the entire MLB post-season and all the Pats games for the season. (Let it be noted I never would have adopted the reference of the Pats for New England, but they talk about it so often, it's embedded in my brain.)

It's really be quite enjoyable to see the Indians doing well against the Sox, and I'll talk about that in a moment, but first, another story.

Sunday, the boys went on a mission to find a pub/bar that was going to broadcast the Pats game on SkySports. The UK buys the rights to two NFL games a week, and the Pats/Cowboys and the Tennessee/Tampa games were the ones this week. Yes I realize that I should have used either mascots or region/cities to refer to the games, but not only do I not know who Tennessee or Tampa's mascots are, I don't care.

Anyway, the point is, because of the UK having rights, they wouldn't be able to watch the game online until after it was already over. That was unacceptable to them, so they began their mission at 3 p.m. BST time to make sure they'd find a place in enough time to catch both games. After failing in the Mumbles, they headed to Wind Street and the Australian bar, Walkabout, was the winner.

I'm truly amazed with their dedication. Earlier in the day I had told them I'd join them, with the secret motivation of showing up halfway through the first game to actually watch the South Africa/Argentina semi-final rugby match. My plan worked perfectly. And of course, the rugby game took priority over American football and was on the big screens with commentary.

Score. I was rooting for Argentina, firstly because South Africa has a dirty reputation of stomping on the other player's heads with inch-long cleats and grabbing them where no man should grab another with intent to inflict pain. Secondly, now that France is out of it, I want England to win even though I feel like a traitor to Wales and they had a better chance of beating Argentina than South Africa. But they didn't. South Africa was just bigger and stronger and won 37-13.

After the rugby match was over, just as the Pats were about to start up on the big screen, imagine the boys' disappointment when instead of also switching the game's commentary to the main speakers, the bar turned into a nightclub and bad American pop music from the past 10 years began to play. It amused me and then additionally my other three girlfriends who had come with the main priority of celebrating Anne's (my French friend) 21st birthday, even though it didn't have as much significance as such a mark would in the U.S.

The boys watched the Patriots as blasting in the background were Dolly Parton, B52s, Brittany Spears and Ice Cube, to name a few. And, my favorite non-American song was by the Spice Girls. I then found myself explaining why I knew all the words to "Who Do You Think You Are." Short story, I can't remember if the Spice Girls or Third Eye Blind was my first CD in the fifth grade.

But anyway ...

Somewhere around the break between the third and fourth quarters, the Pats scored a critical touchdown that put them in a comfortable lead. So Jack and Andrew went nuts, as is usual in the states. But half the club turned to look at us, and all I could do was smile. Some Welshmen, who I'm pretty sure didn't know anything about football, tried to argue with the boys about whether it counted or not. It actually underwent a challenge and was ruled as legit. But that didn't matter to me. It was just amusing to see such a strange interaction between cultures.

At midnight, with most of the fourth quarter left to play, Walkabout started to close. I don't think I've ever seen anyone more disappointed in my life. The boys lingered until we were the last ones in the bar and the bouncers started heading our way, and then they stood outside and watched the television in the window for 10 minutes until they shut off the satellite feed.

The the only mission was to get home ASAP to check the score online and wait for the game to end so they could watch the fourth quarter. Talk about commitment.

I went to bed cause I was still tired from watching the Indians the night before. And now that I've made that transition, I knew this morning after I hadn't been woken by excessively loud cheering that the Indians must have done well. Alas, when I checked online, glory!

Jack's face this morning when I asked him what happened was enough to keep me from rubbing it in. Just complete dismay. If they win again tonight ... well, I'm not a huge baseball fan, so I might be able to restrain myself. I think I can't wait and see how the series comes out :-).