US World Cup Match #1: Enemy Territory!

England's St. George's Cross flags flutter in the Lincoln breeze

I pumped my fist only once during the US versus England World Cup match on Saturday. That’s because I had to keep my “American-ness” on the down low since my mom and I were the only US citizens in the working class Cheltenham Pub watching the match. We were in Lincoln, England—lush farmland but enemy territory—and the stakes were high. Earlier in the day we’d heard some Brits were annoyed by President Barack Obama’s remarks to Prime Minister David Cameron about “British” Petroleum.

Despite the political climate, and the knowledge that English footballers don’t take their sport lightly, I couldn’t help but represent for America after the 27-year-old Texas native Clint Dempsey kicked a goal to tie the game. (England’s captain Steven Gerrard had slipped one by the US goalkeeper Tim Howard three minutes into the game, about the time my mom and I were having our first sip of bitters.) I raised my hands high when the British keeper, Robert Green, let Bernstein’s kick slip through his fingers 39 minutes into the match. It was a big deal for Bernstein (Number 12), who many sports analysts hadn’t even expected to play in the first US World Cup game.

Green’s “butterfingers” move cast a pall over the Cheltenham Pub. The room got quiet. The horns died down. “A shaken England, a stunned England,” the British ITV 1 sportscaster announced. A middle-aged bloke with a buzz cut who spent much of the game checking out the young girls in red and white used more colorful language. “What a f*ing dumbbell,” he muttered.

In the last 20 minutes of the match, play intensified. A younger fan shouted at the plasma television screen, “Rooney! Rooney!” But Wayne Rooney, England’s star offensive player, never scored. England tried to reestablish its lead—18 shots in the match overall. Tim Howard, the US goalie (who happens to also play for England’s premier league) blocked every attempt. The match ended in a tie, 1-1, leaving a pub full of Brits who had assumed England would steamroll the Americans.

We kept a low profile walking back through the cobblestone streets to our car. Though I often tend to feel bad for the losing team, tonight I was glad that the underdog—in this case the US—had evened the score. Outside a packed club, a scuffle was brewing. Bobbies kept an eye on the snockered fans. “We lost the game!” someone wailed.

The next morning, sentiments were still running high. “Are you here to gloat?” our bartender at the Pyewipe Inn asked. “We practically made that goal for you,” his coworker added. But by the end of the day, at least some English fans were looking ahead. Television coverage was focused on Germany’s landslide 4-nil win over Australia and England’s upcoming match with Algeria.