Wait…what? Where am I? How long has the match been over? I watched the whole thing…I think; I know I turned it on in time for the national anthems at Wembley; only just now I sort of came back to myself and noticed that the TV was showing a commercial for discount mufflers. How long have I been sitting here? The last thing I remember was watching DaMarcus Beasley loft a 35-yard free kick meekly into the center of a two-man wall, and then…wait…did I just watch a documentary about Alexander Hamilton’s wife? It’s like two hours of my life have been stolen and I don’t know how or why. I don’t even know if I’m supposed to be more angry or sad. Let’s forget this happened, and if you have a good explanation, break it to me gently in the comments.
I guess this means I can’t use all the material I’d worked up about early American history. I had a whole bit about the American Revolution angle that got shoehorned into every match preview. I was going to say that in the end it was more like the War of 1812…no one knew what it was about, and it kept going long after it was over. Trust me, you would have loved it. I’ll have to keep it in the cooler for a time when I’m not confused and possibly suffering from the aftereffects of unintentional hypnotism. Whenever in the course of human events that might happen.
Read More: American Notes, England, The Occasional Match Summary
by Brian Phillips · May 28, 2008
I was so preposterously out of it due to lack of sleep I ACTUALLY sent this to the Guardian MBM Writer of the Day Barry Glendenning who was covering the match:
“This is great. It’s one current global Empire playing one former global Empire all Umpired by a representative from one of the first Western Empires. All we need is a Roman to round it out…but I guess he’s back in the (former) Evil Empire monitoring his Oil Empire.”
Needless to say it was not printed…
Ha! Sic semper tyrannis!
At least our national anthem kicked their national anthem’s ass. Tone-deaf europop starlets in strange couture with pompous backing track vs a capella with the soul hand? It’s like Gerrard one-on-one with a goalie: someone is getting torched.
God Save the Queen gets its arse kicked by everyone, even when it’s not being played by that awful brass band. We need something the French anthem – whatever language you speak you know they’re singing “We’re French, so just f*ck off!” over and over again.
However the rendition of the Star Spangled Banner last night, did make me think of Bleedin’ Gums Murphy from The Simpsons
This might be the best recap of that game I’ve read so far. And to think I had been looking forward to that match. What the hell was I thinking?
Shame our team couldn’t live up to the fortitude shown by the scrap of second-rate nineteenth century textile in our anthem.
Madison clearly more interested in Iceland-Wales on the television in the corner of their luxury box.
Robert Morris is definitely biding his time for some meat pies and lager at halftime.