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Published: July 18th 2008
Thursday 10th July to Friday11th July, 2008 It’s a well known fact Stateside that the most common cause of visits to the doctor and days off work on the sick during the first six months that any expat’ spends in the United States is as a result, either directly or indirectly, of what is generally termed ‘Sporting Withdrawal Symptons’. It isn’t that sport doesn’t exist out here, it does almost to the point of saturation, it’s simply that what we in the UK recognize as national sporting pastimes are barely recognized nor acknowledged.
American sporting interest focuses around three main team sports; football, another example of incorrect terminology with 95 per cent of the game actually played with the hands, baseball, a glorified form of rounders and the one everybody is familiar with, basketball. When I first arrived here I came with a wholehearted determination to get into the spirit of things and in an attempt to get up to speed spent some time in my first couple of weeks watching the play off finals of the basketball season which had just got underway, a best of seven series of games between the top two ranked teams.
I
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TV interview then along came Chad Cooper.had always considered basketball to be a game where the players seem to run continuously from end to end scoring almost at will and nothing that I witnessed in any of these games did anything to dispel that notion although Boston seemed to score at will with a lot more regularity than Los Angeles and thus walked away with the title. Needless to say, the euphoria generated by the supporters, especially as local team LA Lakers were contesting the final against Boston’s Celtics proved to be far and away a more interesting spectacle than the games themselves.
Of the three games American Football is the one that I can most associate with, probably due to it’s introduction to our shores courtesy of Channel Four Television some twenty five years or so ago and my actually having attended a couple of games, thus understanding the rules. I am actually looking forward to the upcoming start of the new season, if nothing else than to have a perfectly valid reason for a Monday night visit to the pub!!.
Baseball however is proving to be a completely different kettle of fish. I arrived knowing virtually nothing about the game other than
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Home Depot Centre, Carson, Ca. that it involves a bat, a ball and and an over-sized glove and in an attempt to understand the principles I purchased a fact sheet that boasted it could tell you all there is to know and more. Here’s a brief interpretation;
The basic rules are simple and quite promising, nine innings per side of three outs attempting to score as many ‘runs’ or ‘rounders’ as possible. If that was that and the season was contested as with most sports over a reasonable span of games so as to ensure continued interest and excitement then all well and good. But they just have to be different.
The regular season is contested by thirty teams in two leagues, East and West which in turn are split into three Divisions. During the season each team plays an unbalanced schedule that includes a large number of games against teams in their own division, a smaller number of games against teams in the their league’s other divisions and a handful of games against teams from the other league. All in all, even before the inevitable end of season play off games commence they’ll have played a total of one hundred and sixty
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I had a pint with David. two games !
One hundred and sixty two !!. That’s six months of playing almost every day just to decide who will then progress to the play offs. And that’s when it starts to get complicated.
The top team from each division plus two wild card second placers, (still with me ?), progress to a knockout competition until the two surviving teams meet in the best of seven final, bizarelly named the World Series. Surely that should be the American Series ? How do they expect to generate excitement and interest in a regular season when it is that drawn out ?. I had really hoped to get 'into' the sport but the above facts make it highly unlikely that I’ll even bother trying at least until the so called World Series begins.
Walk past any bar in any street between April and September and it’s almost guaranteed that rows upon rows of televisions will be simultaneously showing numerous live ‘ball games from across the country and as a result any glimpse of real football, or soccer as they call it here that flashes onto a TV screen grabs my attention like a second 9/11 or another Diana
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James .......... . Superstar.!!! road crash. The latter stages of the Euro 2008 Finals acted like a syringe full of heroin to a craved addict. The old adage about the scarcity of rocking horse pooh could have been made for non American sports on American TV. Any mention of the word cricket leads most people to think you’re talking about a winged insect that emits strange ‘gribbit’ sounds and it’s just as well for my own sanity that F & G’s workforce comprises people from a multitude of nations including Indian, Sri Lankan and South African who know the game.
T’internet has been a life saver too. Enrolment in Canaries World for an annual fee of thirty five quid and purchase of a cable that links PC to TV means I’ll be able to see highlights of all their games once the season starts on my thirty seven incher although thinking about it now and having seen their preparations for the forthcoming season that may not be such a good thing. I’ve also been watching You Tube clips of my favourite sporting memories when the withdrawal symptons have become unbearable.
Playing, or lack of it has proved to be even more frustrating.
The amount of times my foot has contacted a bag of air since my arrival has been limited to a couple of half pissed barefoot knock abouts on the beach (July 4th and the office beach party) which have both ended in a stubbed toe and retirement to my towel from attempts to bend it like Beckham with the outside of the foot. Stephen, the guy from Macclesfield who has thankfully managed to avoid the eyes of the LAPD for the last two weeks has been trying desperately to arrange a game of five a side in nearby Huntington Beach but despite having raised more than enough volunteers and found somewhere to play he has come up against a solid wall of red tape.
Legal actions are commonplace over here, people will sue their own mother for overcooking their dinner and Huntington Beach City Council insists that as a group we are fully insured just in case one of us grazes a knee and tries to take them to court. The Company attorney has attempted to help out but blockage after blockage is put up by the City powers that be to such an extent that we’re still nowhere
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With Chad Cooper, Galaxy Official.
nearer kick off. I’ve tried to suggest we just meet up at a local park, throw down some jumpers and play but Stephen’s recent run ins with the law have left him unwilling to question authority in any way.
All of the above plus the fact that Thursday night marked LA Galaxy’s last home game until the end of August meant that Thursday was my last chance for a soccer fix. And a chance to catch a glimpse of David Beckham, old Golden Balls himself.
LA Galaxy share their home stadium, The Home Depot Centre in Carson with Hispanic rivals LA Chivas and the fact that it was not only a derby but also a clash of the top two teams in the division meant that I couldn’t have chosen better. I contacted Vince the Ticket who had supplied my Iron Maiden pass but despite his earlier brag that he could get any ticket for any event he was unable to accommodate me so unaware if the game was a sell out or not after a quick change I headed off for the twenty minute drive to the stadium.
The Stadium itself is part of UCLA’s campus
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The girls prepare to meet their man. and as such surrounded by flower beds, fountains and numerous floodlighted and immaculately manicured training pitches, a somewhat different setting to Anfield or Goodison Park. I parked up, found the ticket office and surprised with the range of selection on offer purchased the perfect seat ten rows back on the half way line for eighty bucks. Tickets were available for as little as twenty which is what I’ll go for next time as I later found out you could basically watch from anywhere including a grass bank set above one end of the behind the goal seating.
As I turned away from the ticket office I noticed an Hispanic TV Station conducting a live broadcast from their van and with an hour and a half still to kick off went over to investigate. Manouvering myself around to the far side to photograph the scene I noticed a man dressed smartly in a suit and tie making headway through the crowd straight towards me. I pretended I hadn’t noticed and held my ground, what could be I possibly be doing wrong taking a picture ?. It was obvious he represented officialdom of some description as he had a laminated pass
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VIP Vicky's entrance. bobbing around his neck but noticing there was no one else within twenty metres of me other than the TV crew told me that it was me he was gunning for. When I sensed he was about ten feet away I looked up and began preparing my excuses. His reaction couldn’t have taken me further by surprise.
He was almost at a jog beaming like a Cheshire Cat when he got to me, arm outstretched ready for a high five greeting.
“Heyyyyy, Norwich City” he yelled “The Canaries right, I’ve seen them play several times at Carrow Hill”
Relieved he came in peace I corrected him, “Carrow Road”. I soon discovered his name was Chad Cooper, he was part of the Corporate Entertainment team at The Galaxy and his best friend lived in Norwich, hence his familiarity with the famous yellow and green. He asked me over to join him where he was distributing ‘Guest list’ corporate tickets from a foldaway table outside the stadium gates and quizzed me intently about life in the UK and my opinion of Americans as well as informing me that they’d had Darren Huckerby over a few days earlier who had
just signed for rivals San Jose Earthquakes, exclusive news that hadn’t yet even reached the Canaries website. I asked him were I could catch a glimpse of Victoria but he informed me she was already in her suite along with Tom (Cruise) and the boys and he gave me his card. Maybe next time I could be on for a freebie.
With an hour to go before kick off I’d completely circled the stadium so figuring there would be much to do inside I decided to enter. I was right, inside was a wide array of fairground type stalls, kiosks selling food and drink and demonstrations. US Marines challenged people boot camp style to do sixty uninterrupted press ups, an amateurish rock band with an awful girl singer played on a stage, three young guys stood in a triangle flipping the ball between each other like performing sea lions and a small crowd of youngsters gathered around another fold away table. I went to investigate.
Behind the table sat a handsome, sun bronzed guy with shiny black, shoulder length hair who was wearing a Galaxy shirt and was accompanied by a pretty club official. He surely couldn’t be
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She sounded like a cat on a hot tin roof !. a player I gauged as he must have been somewhere around his forties and beginning to bear the inevitable onset of middle aged spread but his whiter than white Californian smile told me he was revelling in the attention as he signed and handed out photographs of himself to the kids. I watched the scene for thirty seconds or so then feeling in a slightly mischievous mood decided to burst his bubble.
“Who are ya?” I called adopting the Scousest accent I could muster.
His smile all but disappeared, his jaw dropped and he looked up. “I’m James ----------“, (I didn’t catch his last name and the photocard just called him James). “I played for The Galaxy in the late nineties”
“Ahhhh right.” I replied feeling a bit guilty for causing him undue hurt and in an attempt to make amends asked “ Can I have one as well please?”.
The smile returned immediately and I left having made his day even more by asking if I could take a souvenir snapshot of a Galaxy legend.
The Norwich City shirt I’d donned for the occasion was surprisingly attracting calls from passers by every few minutes,
“Let’s be ‘aving yer”, “Up The Canaries”, and “Norwich City” to name but three as well as a few bewildered looks and I found myself in several conversations on the strength of it. Who would ever have thought a sickly yellow football shirt would serve as an means of meeting people. Amongst others I chatted with an affable Geordie musician expat from San Francisco who had accompanied his mate from the UK who had won a competition to meet Beckham on the pitch and Tracey, a bubbly Californian whose laminate told me she was one of the Home Centre’s Management Team. At half time one shout came through the crowd that even I didn’t think I’d hear. “Heyyy, On The Ball City”
I turned to see a shaven headed guy with a big grin and a bright tangerine shirt heading straight towards me with his arm outstretched in greeting. It transpired he was actually a Norwich supporter from London with his girlfriend on the last few weeks of a twelve month around the world trip and they filled me in on their adventures before the second half beckoned.
At half time Galaxy were a goal to nil down
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It made James's day when I asked him for a photie. and Golden Balls was beginning to show signs of frustration. The standard of play on offer was average at best, laughable at worst and the failure of his undoubted talent to influence proceedings allied to the inferior quality of his team mates and his long haired, busy busy bee marker not giving him a seconds peace meant that tempers were starting to fray. He started the game knocking thirty yard passes at every opportunity but as the game evolved and his space reduced his involvement got less and less.
I was all for him keeping his place in the national set up back home but having seen the standard of competition he is up against each week I am now having second thoughts. Tactics and positional play seemed of no consequence as the ball bounced around like a hot potato and the players followed like kids in a school yard and even GB himself cannot expect to easily make the transition from this to playing against world class opposition with too much success.
It wasn’t just the playing side that was poor, the officialdom was second rate also. On several occasions the linesman on my side of the
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Yeah, right ! If that's fun I'll stay miserable. ! pitch entered into nose to nose arguments with players challenging his offside decisions which on more than one occasion were incorrect by more than a couple of yards, confronting them like a WWF wrestler eyeing his opponent almost as though it was done to generate reaction from the stands and when the referee decided to pull out the yellow card the information was immediately relayed to the mainly Galaxy supporter 27,000 crowd by a PA announcement that reminded me of the guy who comperes world championship boxing events. Instead of ‘in the red corner weighing in at 240lbs’ it was “Ladies and Gentleman, in the 71st minute, from The Galaxy and wearing the shirt No. 8, Fred Bloggs has been issued a yellow card”, an announcement followed by a resounding chorus of boos or hurrah’s depending on which team he was from.
Golden balls did at least play a part in Galaxy’s second half equalizer and the game finished in a fair one one draw. Despite the criticisms it was still a thoroughly enjoyable evening out and as of now I officially have a second team. Come on The Galaxy !!
In the middle of the week my
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Abel Xavier, remember him ? personal laptop had started to misbehave to the point of appearing useless causing mass worry and concern but enter Van Lee, the tiny Vietnamese IT genius from the office who spent an hour and a half restoring it to it’s former glory saving me much inconvenience and expense into the bargain. On Friday the majority of the office met up for a Sushi lunch to say goodbye to Rainer, off to the San Francisco office for the remainder of his internship and a couple of others so I thanked Van by buying her lunch and that evening Phil and I took Rainer for a liquid night on the town in preparation for the following days event, The F & G Office Beach Party.
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waymo
non-member comment
Sorry you lost me halfway thru that one Zzzzzzzz