Early Sunday morning, up before I would normally be for a working day. There shouldn’t be any need for this really. Granted, the clocks went back an hour last night, so it’s not as bad as it could have been. And the reason for this early morning madness? The NFL. Despite not renewing my season ticket for the London games this year, I’ve got the chance to see the final one of the three games this year.
The Jaguars (Jaagwaars as the Americans would call them) against the Eagles. Last season’s Superbowl winners against the AFC conference runners up. It’s not going quite as well for either team this season. Me ending up with a ticket came from an unusual and unexpected source.
I’d sent out a hopeful message to request if anyone still had copies of e-mails I’d sent out eleven or twelve years ago. I’m on a drive to try and collate all my old writing, and this was a set that I couldn’t find anywhere. It had gone out to people I thought would have been on my old mailing list to receive random rubbish. Surprisingly a couple of people did still have copies of some of them. Not only that but one of my housemates from when I lived in Manchester had a spare ticket for the game. Not bad from someone I hadn’t seen in ten years or so.
For a change Thamestink were on time, though to be fair even they would be hard pushed to be late when the train was coming from a depot in sight of the platform. It wasn’t until I got to London Bridge that the issues started. The Jubilee line had ground to a halt because of signalling issues, and there were no trains. This meant no direct route to Wembley. A mile long (or so it seems) walk through the labyrinth of tunnels at London Bridge to get to the Northern line. A quick change at Moorgate was the plan; pick up the Metropolitan line instead. Well, it was quicker than not moving, a ten minute wait, and I managed to get a seat. Something that three stops later wouldn’t have been a possibility due to it turning into a sardine can.
My usual game of team spotting had started early. Bears fan getting tickets at Three Bridges station, closely followed by the damn Cowboys and the Jaguars on the platform. Raiders, Eagles and Packers were next at London Bridge. Vikings, Broncos, Giants, Falcons, Redskins and Dolphins on the tube. It was always a good guessing game of who would be the last team to be spotted at these games.
Despite the fact the game in nominally a home game for the Jaguars, and that there is a big push on supporting them in and around London, it was clear from the outset that this was going to be a more Eagles-centric crowd. The Eagles jerseys may well have been outgunning the Jaguars, but in the battle of paper coffee cups spilling brown liquid everywhere it was a much closer outcome. It looked like Costa was ahead of Starbucks, but it was close.
Not only that but the weather wasn’t great, a slow steady rain had accompanied my journey up to London, somewhat typical I though after the two previous games had been played in bright sunshine. It would have to be raining when I’d arranged to meet up for drinks at the Green Man at the top of that ridiculous hill. It was a good job that drips don’t get wet, they just get bigger. Although if I got much bigger I really am going to need my own post code. I also think the sunglasses may have been a tad optimistic. Yet as the arch of Wembley stadium comes into view, so does the sun, forcing its way out from behind the clouds. It may be OK after all.
At Wembley Park, it was back into team spotting mode. Seahawks, Lions, Browns, Chiefs, Buccaneers, Texans, Patriots and Steelers were all there. The Cardinals were seen hanging out of a window of a passing car on Empire way, shouting at random passers-by. I saw a Titans fan coming down the hill on the way up to the Green Man.
Which was closed. To me and other members of the general public as the Green Legion had hired the whole place out. FFS, back down the god damn hill again and through the outlet mall, where Rams, Chargers, Jets, Colts, Bengals and Panthers were spotted.
In the stadium surround waiting for Mark to turn up, Ravens and Saints appeared, which meant that the Bills were the last team spotted. Losers. Mark was later than advertised, but to be fair he has more family responsibilities than me. Well, that and the fact he was never great at being on time.
Conversation started straight away, there was a lot to fill in on both sides, but it was like picking up where we had left off, even if that was ten years ago. We went to the tailgate, a first for me, despite all the previous games I had gone to. It was crowded and felt forced, and wasn’t really worth the effort, but a lesser spotted Bills fan was in there, so the set was complete.
We met up with Mark’s friends who had got us the tickets in the first place. They had got some on the top tier originally, then bought some more to come with additional friends from Florida lower down, so had some going spare. We had time for a quick drink before the game before it was time to head in for the game. Clearing security and grabbing a drink made it we made it to our seats just in time for the kick off, having missed all the build-up and anthems.
It was a decent enough game. Defences on top at first, before some more expansive play in the second half. The Eagles got a lead and although there was only one score in it, they held out. Mark was happy, as a fully-fledged Eagles fan now after living in Philadelphia for eighteen months, it was a good result for him.
His friends from the states had got an apartment behind Brent Civic Centre for the weekend. So Mark and I picked up some beers and unhealthy snacks and headed over there to watch more NFL and chat. With game pass showing the Bears game on one laptop, accompanied by very loud shouting from the Bears fan in the room, and Redzone on another laptop, action from the early games surrounded chatting and drinking.
But, having to get home meant Mark and I headed off. As we passed Wembley, the arch was lit up in blue and white light, and the Leicester City badge filled up the various screens on the outside of the stadium. A tribute to the City owner who had tragically died in a helicopter crash following their game against West Ham the evening before.
At Wembley Park we headed off in different directions, vowing not to leave it another ten years before meeting up again.