On Tuesday morning, after another loooong night with the Red Wings, we were in no hurry to get up. Unfortunately, before learning the playoff schedule, I had booked tickets to see the Doctor Who Exhibit in south London at 11:30 in the morning. (No sci-fi nerd’s trip to England would be complete without this experience!)
The alarm burned my head when it went off and I started getting ready. I was stunned when Amy actually woke and came with me. The exhibit itself was cool. Lots of neat displays of actual props from the series. Plus, Amy took my picture with Daleks, Cybermen and even the Face of Bo!
After the Doctor Who, we headed back to the room and grabbed a quick nap.
Then, we had a decision to make: We had to pick between the two separate soccer events going on Tuesday at the same time. The U.S. Soccer Federation had set up a fan party at a bar/restaurant at the O2 complex. However, a soccer match between fans of the U.S. and England teams had been scheduled at a field near Wembley. I was really torn. I desperately wanted to play in the game, but didn’t want to miss anything cool at O2.
The friendly match was set up as basically two games. In the first half, those 35 and older played our rivals. In the second half, those under 35 took their turn. Total score at the end won the match. Amy suggested that we go to the fan match so I could play in the first half and then catch the 40-minute train ride down to the O2 to catch the end of the USA party.
I’m so glad she suggested this, because the fan match was an incredible experience. The England fans treated it like a real game. They lined up the players and played both teams’ national anthems. They also presented us with a banner commemorating the match. They wore white. We wore red shirts donated by U.S. Soccer.
Watching England warm up, I figured we were in for some real trouble. There were some big lads on their team, and, it appeared, a lot of skill. If there was any good news, it was the many of their over 35 players looked much older than 35. Most of our senior team was under 40. Also, strangely, two of their players decided to play the game wearing medieval knights costumes. The ref made them take off their red capes.
I lined up at right back, really, really nervous. I just didn’t want our team to embarrass itself. The game started out slow, but suddenly England mounted their first assault. Three quick passes and a blast that smashed off the post. Over the next couple minutes, they had two or three great chances but our keeper made some point-blank saves to keep us level.
Then, we caught them on a counter. We fired a pass across the box that got pounded into the back of the England net. We were up 1-0!
The rest of the game went much the same way. England probably hit the post 10 times. Seriously. Our keeper was incredible, saving us again and again – before we caught them on a break again to go up 2-0.
England got annoyed but began to tire a bit. The striker I was marking had to be 60 years old. When I lined up against him on corner kicks, he was breathing so hard that I thought he was going to have a heart attack. His age didn’t stop him from going around me a couple of times.
During the half, the Englishman who set up the match used a bullhorn to make good-natured jibes at the Yanks. Funny how he got quieter as England fell behind.
England converted a penalty kick, but we came right back and pressed them again. The ball smacked into their keeper and slipped across the goal line. But there was no call from the ref or the linesman! We appealed for the goal but the ref yelled to play on. But, in the classiest move of the match, one of the England players went to the ref and told him the ball had crossed the line. The goal was awarded.
Finally, our half ended after what seemed like 1,000 years. We had done our job, winning our half 4-3. We learned the next day that American youth team won it’s half 3-0! USA had beaten England 7-3! Apparently, the England players seemed a bit embarrassed by this.
The England players presented us with a bag with an England hat, an England pin and pen and a photo card of English players and their signatures. Amy really liked this gift. It was truly a nice gesture.
I got dressed and Amy and I caught the train down to the O2, luckily a direct shot. We got there around 9:15, and only 4 or 5 people were still there. We have no idea if there was much going on early. But it didn’t look like it was too exciting. We’d certainly made the right choice going to the fan game.
We had dinner at an Italian restaurant at the O2 before retiring back to our flat.
The next day: the real USA vs. England in Wembley.
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