Monday, June 12, 2006


Entitled "Sweet Home Alabama, Or How We Taught the Americans About the World Cup"....

The chants from the Czech supporters came ferociously, unstintingly. Czechie, Czechie, Czechie was about all I could make out. The sort of dorky east coast college boys which make up most of the U.S.A.'s supporters here smiled nervously and mustered meek responses of their own. But their USA! USA! USA!s were soon stifled through shyness and lack of inebriation.

We'd have to do something about that.

Two hours, and several looseners later, we share table tops in a the German equivalent of a lock-in, and, freed from the bounds of cultural sensitivity and ethical tourism, the barmans choice of cast-iron American classics on the stereo hits the spot. Skynyrd, the Boss, Ike and Tina, the Stones (I know they're not American, but they sort of are really) and, just for a night, the sons of Massachusetts and upstate New York are free to just be.

The World Cup is for everyone after all.


Anonymous Johnny B said...

Oi! Respond ta yer hotmail address!

12:03 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I read the title and thought it was a prediction for the 90 minutes of torment that the U.S. of A have just endured, in some crazy mystic meg kind of fashion. Alas no. I'd say the preppies might be a bit quieter tonight.

7:13 p.m.  

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