Note: If you are interested in reading about the parts of England that do not have to do with football, you can do so at http://oxford-girl.blogspot.com. Be forewarned, I am bad at updating.

Well, I have finally carved some time out of my insanely busy schedule to give you all an update on what it is like being a football fan on the other side of the pond. Since I don't know when this rare occasion might strike again, I must carpe the diem. Nor can I promise that this will be a regular series, as Guru asked, but I will file dispatches whenever there is something interesting to report.  Theoretically, I am going to my first official “football” match this coming Saturday (Oxford United vs. York City) and will have to report back on the intricacies of crowd craziness here. I’ve heard it’s quite something to behold. I’ll also have to chase down a rugby match at some point, as it’s technically more like what we know football to be like. This can likely be found in Scotland, as it’s the sort of game that appeals to them. (Key: lots of head-smashing). But it's popular in England as well, so I just have to find one first.

I have been in England for close to a month now, and yes, I am beginning to sorely miss the taken-for-granted fact that on Saturdays and Sundays, you just crash out in front of the tube and happily while away the rest of the day watching college and NFL ball. This does not happen here for three basic reasons: a) I don’t have a TV, b) they don’t show regularly scheduled American sports, and c) I don’t have weekends free anyway, those are for homework. 1:00 PM games start here at 6:00, and forget about Sunday Night or Monday Night Football. Although I am usually still up at 1:30 am, which is when they begin and when I could presumably watch online at NFL.com, I am still up because I am finishing work. Opening an actual football game would be the end of that, and so I must satisfy myself with watching the colored... er, coloured... lines go this way and that. It is not a replacement, but it is still the best I can muster. I am continuing to hunt down spots that will be used for playoff games, which, despite taking place at inconvenient hours, are still not something I am planning to miss. Hey, I am an American, after all. And our football is still better, yee-haw. (Don’t tell them I said that).

So far as I can tell, football here is just as big as, if not more so, than the popularity of the NFL in America. It’s especially amusing from the life-and-death way in which it’s covered in the newspapers, with whole sections breathlessly relating whose owner said what and who got into which fight. As if this isn’t enough, the British tabloids are even more incessantly voyeuristic and navel-gazing than American ones, and one of the first things I learned in my "Introduction to Britain" lecture, to my amusement, was of the popularity of "Wags." This stands for "wives and girlfriends" of football players, who are apparently a subject of great interest. It is definitely a whole cult of celebrity around here, although I haven’t seen nearly as many Beckham jerseys as I was expecting. And two tidbits of football advice for you to take to heart if you ever find yourself in England: 1) you need to know who’s atop the Premier League (currently, Chelsea) and 2) Nobody likes Manchester United. They’re the Patriots of English football. (From our Tower of London tour: "And then they cut off their ‘eads and stuck ‘em up on pikes, as a reminder of the fate that awaits all traitors to the crown. Or Manchester United supporters." Big laugh.)

English football standings are too complicated to explain and even I have little idea how they work, so I will save myself the embarrassment of attempting to do so. Instead, we shall move on to what the British think of American football – which is, they bemusedly wonder how we can call it "football" when we spend half the time throwing it, but nonetheless seem to enjoy it for the same reasons we do – it’s fun to see big guys run into each other. Wembley Stadium, usually the home of the English national team, sold out almost immediately for the Chargers/Saints game, and there were 83,000-odd intrigued Londoners and American expats packing the stands for said event. (And yes, no matter the fact that one ticket costs twice my weekly grocery budget – which is already down to a minimum as it is – I did look into buying one. Fortunately, they were sold out, thereby saving my microscopic bank account. Or is that unfortunately? Either way, it might be a troubling sign that I like football more than eating).

This is what Wembley looks like (obviously set up for English, not American, football)

Even though I didn’t get to represent, there was this fine fan in attendance:

Which made me very happy.

The only problem with the game was that I didn’t get to watch it live (long story) and that it meant Phyllis was about 3,000 miles too close to me. And the only thing more amusing than imagining him terrorizing Londoners was reading the coverage afterwards – for some reason, I get a big kick out of the way Brits cover American football. Sean Payton had to patiently explain the whole system of downs to a British reporter, so it’s fair to say that they are a little confused about the rules, but took wholeheartedly to cheering for the Saints, who were supposed to be the home team. (I approve). They even had a whole video series dedicated to explaining the "physics of American football." Never knew it was so scientific, eh? Might give HoosierTeacher a run for his MHR University money (HT, in case you find yourself with nothing better to do and all the way over here in England, there are a lot of Brits you could instruct on the finer points of football).

In any case, the headline on BBC Sport was: "Saints pip San Diego at Wembley," which I found to be amusing. I also thought it was amusing that the article began, "Drew Brees gave a passing masterclass to 83,226 fans as the New Orleans Saints triumphed 37-32 over his former side San Diego at Wembley. But rival QB Philip Rivers threw for three scores of his own as the second NFL regular-season game in London went down to the wire." This is amusing, at least to me, because "side" is what they call teams here, and I liked the contrast between the British vocabulary and the thoroughly American subject. They, of course, called it a "match" here, so hopefully the fans got their money’s worth. Since English football is also a rather violent sport, they no doubt were pleased with all the bashing.

As for me, I make a habit to wear my Cutler jersey on game days, although neither time has it brought any luck to the Broncos against either Jacksonville or New England (okay, we won’t remind anyone about that). No comments of note yet, although the first day I was wearing it about, I did get a few curious looks. I suppose it’s a good way of advertising that I am an American and like that "other" sort of football. I’ll wear it to Saturday’s match, just to see if I get mistaken for an opposing fan and somebody tries to shank me in the parking lot. While I doubt this will happen, it would always make a good story. More likely, I will end up getting into a spirited debate, which I would also welcome.

I will report back from the front lines after my sociological exercise on Saturday. Until then...

Cheers,

Silver