Greatescapers's Blog

Watching England is torture. Watching everyone else is freedom.

And so it was that Kirsty and I decided to stream the ITV coverage of the Argentina vs Egypt last 16 game, via my phone to our TV, in our room. It was a 10am kick off local time here in Mexico City which was a noon kick off for the teams.

I am still yet to work the logic of these kick off times. They really do seem to be all over the place. There must be the magic FIFA algorithm that works out what is best from a TV broadcasting perspective, who knows? It would be nice to find out.

Both of us were feeling distinctly sub par. It was likely to be a mix of altitude, pollution and generally being tired out after over three weeks on the road. My chest was getting a little better thanks to the antibiotics, but it was still hard work breathing without having a coughing fit.

The game was billed as Messi vs Salah and it got off to a brisk start and Argentina pinned Egypt into their half with their customary high press and phenomenal work rate. Our WiFi connection came and went which made for a bit of frustration, but that really is a first world problem at the end of the day. It was during one of these lapses where we lost the game that we heard a scream from somewhere else in the hotel. It sounded like someone had scored. When our screen finally caught up, it was a goal for Egypt, a cracking header. The first half came to an end and Egypt were somehow one nil up. Roy Keane, Gary Neville and Ian Wright all said what I was thinking, this would not last for the second half.

I decided we needed some coffee so nipped next door to the amazing bakers called The Green Rhino.

This place was something else, a full on bakery run by loads of young people. The sandwiches and coffee looked and smelled delicious and the woman serving me was as friendly as every other Mexican I had met.

She was interested to know that I was here for the World Cup and when I told her I was English she told me that the co-founder of The Green Rhino was a British baker called Richard Hart. This baker is a legend in the sourdough world. But he is a legend with baggage as he had criticised Mexican bread as ‘ugly’ and ‘pretty cheap’. Apparently his language was a tad lazy as he was talking about mass produced bread sold in supermarkets, but via various Mexican influencers he had almost been cancelled.

The lesson therein being, use your language carefully especially if you are in a different country with a different language and culture.

As I left the shop, the woman called me back and gave me a freshly baked little biscuit on the shape of a bear as a gift. That was so charming.

I headed back to the football replete with my coffee and an amazing kimchee sandwich. Egypt were still under the cosh but somehow managed to break out and score again. Another amazing team goal. 2-0. Argentina were still dominating and doing everything except score, but that clock was running down. VAR ruled out an Egyptian third goal, definitely a foul, but one committed back near the Egyptian corner flag! Had that goal stood, 3-0 would surely be curtains for the reigning World Champions.

There was still ten minutes to play and I said to Kirsty that Argentina would still win the game. I just felt that they had too much for the Egyptians and they also had the luck.

Four minutes later and Argentina had scored twice and pulled level. Messi made up for his penalty miss in the first half. And then, as predicted, they got their winner just before the end of normal time. What a game this was and Egypt, just like Cape Verde before them, came so close to putting the World Champions out. This Argentinian team are fighters. For me, the best fighters around. They never ever give up. If we are lucky enough to play them in the semi finals, it will be some battle.

We headed out to meet up with Supes and Billy at a little bar called Bolero that was run by a Colombian friend of a friend of Billy. It was a shortish walk and along the way we bumped into two really friendly dogs dressed in Mexican shirts, Bella and Bilko. From what we have experienced, dogs in Mexico City all seem really friendly, just like their owners.

We plotted up on a table reserved by Billy’s mate Darren, aka Cartel Bee, and met with a couple of Darren’s friends ahead of the Colombia vs Switzerland kick off at 2pm local time. Supes and Billy duly arrived and we were all set. The whole bar were supporting Colombia. As our friend Hugo had told us, Mexicans and Colombians are like brothers and support each other.

I have been enjoying a drink called Clamato out here, which is a mix of tomato and clam juice with herbs served in a tall glass with salt around the rim into which you add a Mexican beer. Quite delicious and refreshing. I made the call, this would be my drink for the afternoon.

Darren’s friend Ollie arrived midway through the second half. He, like Darren worked in Mexico City and was a West Ham fan who used to have a season ticket in the Chicken Run. We discussed the state of our club. He asked if I had heard of the #NoMoreBS campaign to rid us of the appallingly inept regime of Brady and Sullivan. When I told him that I was not only aware of it, but had actually helped out with the organisation, he was pleasantly surprised. Me and Ollie clicked immediately. He asked me if I had ever met Karren Brady. I smiled and said I had a fair few times. He said that she must have been a very tough person to deal with. I replied that I felt that I had got the better of her time and again in our dealings. When he asked me about her strengths and weaknesses, I smiled again and gave him and Darren chapter and verse on both sides of her character. Ollie said to me later, ‘you really should write a book’ to which I replied, ‘watch this space’.

The game although initially promising really didn’t deliver, with both teams managing to miss key chances. Colombia especially. It drifted into extra time and penalties.

Colombia missed a couple and the Swiss missed one. Switzerland were duly through to the quarter finals to face Argentina. I can’t see past Argentina winning that tie and winning quite convincingly.

We decided to get some food and dined Asian. Ollie’s brother in law and nephew were in town so they joined us. Supes didn’t join us as he needed to charge his phone and do some washing ahead of his journey to Miami in the morning.

Kirsty wasn’t feeling great and decided to head home post dinner. Ollie and his team left us too, leaving Billy and I to take an early evening stroll through the streets of Mexico City to meet up with Marc, Reg, Spanish Dave and later Supes.

Billy and I are World Cup veterans and have been around the block to say the least. We talked about the challenges of organising these trips and keeping people together, often when there were pretty incompatible character types having to rub along. We both laughed a lot, as the truth is often hilarious if a little challenging, but clearly people like us always try to see the good in others whilst always wanting to ensure that everyone enjoys World Cups and Euros for what they are. Some people just don’t get it and some never will. These are opportunities to meet a huge variety of people from all over the world and enjoy football together. I did mention the unmentionable to Billy about how long we would do this for. Needless to say I won’t quote what we both said to each other, at least not just yet.

We found a lovely little bar called Cicatriz in the Cuauhtémoc area of the city. We had a very relaxing drink or two with Reg, Marc, Spanish Dave and Supes whilst the rain came down. Me and Supes then and headed back to base. We fly to Miami via Atlanta in the morning and the adventure continues.

Who knows what comes next.

Sometimes sport and in this case football, shines a light on something much bigger.

At the Azteca Stadium on Sunday evening everything that is great about football was present. Two teams giving their all, two sets of supporters getting behind their teams and passion and commitment from, all in spades. Everything was left, by every player on the field. Sport at its very best.

Indeed, this World Cup has delivered some amazing games of football as anyone who watched Cape Verde play Argentina would testify.

But yesterday it was all about a red card, and not the one awarded to Jarell Quansah.

We woke up on Monday in a mix of daze and disbelief. We were both mildly exhausted but wanted to meet up with our friends. So we found the bar that Mark, Reg, Spanish Dave and Obi were in to watch the Spain vs Portugal game. The bar turned out to be the Mexican version of Fawlty Towers. They were clearly overrun, didn’t have enough experienced staff and their systems seemed to be ‘down’. It reflected the game really, which came and went. Two incredibly talented teams doing precisely the opposite to what Mexico and England had done the night before. This game was no bang and all whimper.

The main topic of conversation amongst us however, was the rescinding of Balogun’s red card for Team USA as a result of the reports of multiple conversations between President Donald Trump and FIFA President Gianni Infantino where the US President had asked for the decision to be reviewed. The one match suspension which follows a red card was then ‘suspended for a year’ citing some obscure FIFA rule, allowing one of America’s best players to take his place in the biggest match the United States had played for years.

Good piece here from ITV

https://youtu.be/pQXRxJmS-WU?is=jeEokmW9h6_rDf1Z

Coincidentally, the same trick had been pulled by FIFA to suspend Ronaldo’s red card playing for Portugal in a World Cup qualifier so that he could play in the opening games of this World Cup. ‘No Ronny, no money’?

Our discussion wasn’t centred on whether Folarin Balogun deserved to be sent off. Football supporters will argue about decisions until the end of time. That’s what we do. Some think it was harsh. Others think it was obvious. VAR gives us endless opportunities to disagree.

No, what fascinated us wasn’t the decision. It was everything that had happened afterwards.

Whether you think Balogun should have been available or not almost misses the point. The question is actually much simpler.

Would that have happened if the player had been Belgian? Or Norwegian? Or Ghanaian? Or from Cape Verde? Or a New Zealander?

Of course not. And that is the uncomfortable truth.

For generations America has projected itself as one of the world’s champion of rules, institutions and fair play. A country that exported constitutional government, independent courts and sporting competition built on the principle that everyone starts at 0-0.

Yet increasingly it appears to be embracing a different philosophy. If the rules don’t produce the result you want, challenge the rules. If that doesn’t work, challenge the referee. If that doesn’t work, challenge the institution.

And if all else fails, use influence.

That isn’t uniquely American, of course. Every country has flirted with that temptation. Every powerful individual has occasionally believed they deserve different treatment.

But when the most powerful nation on earth begins normalising that approach, the implications reach far beyond the beautiful game of football.

Because institutions can only work when everyone believes the same rules apply to everyone. The irony is that America became a superpower precisely because investors, businesses and allies trusted its institutions more than its politicians. Presidents came and went. Congress changed hands. Judges retired. Yet the system endured because the rules mattered more than the individuals.

That confidence has been one of America’s greatest export. Far greater than Hollywood. Far greater than Silicon Valley. Far greater than the US dollar.

Trust. Once that begins to erode, it is remarkably difficult to rebuild. Football and football fans understand this instinctively. Us supporters can accept losing, let’s face it we have plenty of experience in that department. We can accept poor refereeing. We can even accept bad luck. But what we cannot accept is believing the game has been tilted.

The moment supporters think one team is playing by different rules, something precious disappears.It isn’t simply unfair. It stops feeling like sport.

Perhaps that’s why this story resonated so widely with all of us. It wasn’t about a tackle. It wasn’t even about FIFA. It was about whether influence should ever outweigh process. Whether power should ever trump principle.

Whether the biggest nations should receive treatment unavailable to everyone else.

We took a break after the Spanish victory over Portugal and re-convened in a lovely little bar called Tap Room Dos Aves. Reg, Mark, Obi, Cass, Billy, Spanish Dave, Supes, Mark, Sam and Kirsty assembled and enjoyed the very relaxed vibe.

I don’t think it was a secret that all of us were now rooting for Belgium purely and simply because of the mess that Trump and Infantino had inflicted on our World Cup. Up until now the USA had played with pace and aggression and I thought they would beat the Belgians.

Americans had embraced the football and the World Cup in general. The USA had really got some great press and media coverage because they had done a good job with their third of the hosting duties. That soft power is so important. Mexico and Canada have gained loads of it too.

Team USA’s young and talented players had built a clear and very effective identity under the genius that is Mauricio Pochettino. All that was up in the air now. How would those US players react to this frankly ludicrous situation? How would the much maligned Belgian squad react to this? This is the kind of thing that brings teams together.

As we watched the game it was clear that something had changed. Team USA were a shadow of their former selves. Belgium rose to the occasion, scoring an early goal. It got worse and worse for Team USA. The majority of our bar were behind Team USA and we couldn’t help ourselves by cheering every one of the four Belgian goals. That would not have happened last week. Pure and simple.

I thought of all the really good American football fans I had met these past three weeks. What must they have been thinking at the end of this? They really don’t deserve this.

Belgium won the game convincingly 4-1 and the footballing debate moves on.  

But the constitutional debate won’t. Because the real red card wasn’t shown on the pitch. It was shown to the idea that institutions should be bigger than the people who happen to lead them. History suggests that’s a game no country can afford to lose.

It really is a shame that Team USA have exited the World Cup. Those players and manager did not deserve such an ignominious end to what had been a triumph of their will and endeavour.

And if ever a country’s leader scored an own goal, today this bloke did it, not once, but four times. Who’s the loser now?

‘May the best team on the night prevail. Whatever happens, it will be memorable. A World Cup match in the Azteca Stadium against Mexico. It really doesn’t get better than this.’

I wrote those words 24 hours ago. All of you would have watched the game, endured the stress, suffered the tension, counted down the clock and then gone absolutely ballistic when the referee finally blew the whistle. I am sure the whole county stayed up late or got up early and lived every single second of that most amazing game of football.

But before I relay my experiences of last night, I want to tell you all about the Mexicans. In all my years of following England, I don’t think I have ever met better people. Kind, funny, warm, hilarious, generous and just downright lovely. Every single one of them. We have been lucky to be with our dear friend Hugo and his posse of wonderful friends, David, Arturo, Roberto, Luis and Eduardo. They have shown us the real Mexico here and not what an experience it has been.

We had an early start and headed to a traditional Mexican restaurant for breakfast come lunch called the Restaurante Arroyo. It was huge and had its own bull ring inside.

We were the only English people there, outside of Sam, Mark, Ian, Lee, Andy, Jamie and us two.The ‘all you can eat’ buffet was incredibly delicious and plentiful. The staff were wonderful despite none of us understanding each other, and smiles and joy were everywhere. Families and friends were out all eating and enjoying Sunday. There was a brilliant Mariachi band moving around between tables singing, everyone was joining in.

We had to meet up with Hugo and his friends as we were going to have a few hours pre-match on the boats on the Canal de circunvalación in Xochimilco which is to the south of Mexico City. Our cab driver was a lovely man, adorned in his ubiquitous Mexico shirt had Mexican music on his stereo. As is the way, he drove hard and fast and always with a smile on his face. He even filmed all of us singing and laughing in the cab at about 100mph. Brilliant.

As we got close to Xochimilco, we had a succession of moped riders coming alongside telling our driver that ‘roads were closed’ and we had to follow them to the boats. It was clear from what our lovely driver was saying, via Google translate of course, that they were hustling us to use their boats. He apologised. We duly found Hugo and the boys who had a massive cool box of beers and Tequila ready for the boat.

The boats which were a sort of flat bottomed punt come gondola, were all moored on the canal and you had to walk across a load of boats to get to ours for the afternoon which was a very interesting experience indeed!

The canal was a euphoric mix of all sorts of music, laughter, colour and loads, loads more. If you ever wanted the definition of joy, here it was right here.

There are all sorts of bands on the canal. They have their own boats and come alongside and await being asked to come aboard and play, which is quite a logistical exercise to say the least.

Hugo told us that there were three fundamental styles of musical groups. The first is the Mariachi, which most people will know as the quintessential representation of Mexican culture, violins, trumpets, guitars and bass.

The second is the Banda which is far more military brass band influenced. The final style is the Norteño, which emanates from the north of the country.

Norteño musicians are dressed far more cowboy style with cowboy hats, checked shirts and cowboy boots.

I don’t think we ever had a pre-match build up like this! So much fun. We walked 10 minutes to the metro station which was a 20 minute ride to the Azteca Stadium for the game.

We had one last team shot of Los Amigos, before we bid farewell. I kissed and hugged Hugo and said one of us would be happy and one of us would be sad in a few hours time. But may the best team win.

And now for the Azteca. Forty years on from that game, I had dreamed of a return. And this was it. The stadium had not changed from the outside at all. And they still had those tunnels that fed the lower parts of the ground. Today it was falling down with rain, back then it was burning hot sunshine. To say the atmosphere was a million miles away today was an understatement. Thank god, for that, but not his hand.

The news came across that the game would be delayed by an hour. So more time for a few beers! We met up with some Blues fans John and Archie who were both of my generation and knew Blues fans that I knew. John and I had a great chat about not disrespecting the opposition’s national anthems and singing stuff about the war.

We also met up with Matt and Connor again, lovely lads from the New England generation. Matt was a Stoke City fan and Connor a fellow Hammer.

And so to the delayed kick off. We were right behind the goal in row 2. We met up with Neil, the retired Gareth Southgate lookalike, who stood with us.

The game was frenetic and intense from the start and the atmosphere was like nothing I have ever experienced ever. Pickford made a world class save down to his left, which I initially thought was as good as Banksy’s from Pele in 1970.

We got to the first hydration break and I don’t think we booed it, we were all just so wrapped up in the game. But we had got there without conceding a goal. First achievement unlocked! I can’t remember how much more time elapsed before Jude Bellingham scored the opening goal up the other end and then what felt like less than a minute he got his second. We were in dreamland.

The rest of the half was blur until Quiñones scored Mexico’s first goal. I will always remember the water flying off the net when the ball hit it.

Half time and it was 2-1. We were in the game.

We met up with the lovely lads we have seen before, most recently at the wrestling, Sam, Jonah, Ned, Brett and Rob. These boys always bring smiles to our faces. Such positive boys.

If the first half was intense, the second was another level. Quansah got a red card that none of us could see early doors, then we got a penalty which King Harry converted.

At 3-1 with 10 men, could we do it? I’ve never felt like this at a football match. Just when you start to believe, King Harry gave away a penalty, again none of us could see it. Raul converted it and Mexico were on their way back. Our backs were against the wall, every man for each other now.

The Mexicans came at us like nutcases time and time again. But they couldn’t get past Pickford and his defenders. Somehow there were an added eleven minutes. I always refuse to look at the clock once we are into that added time. Somehow we made it through. Somehow we found a way to win this.

The players ran over to our end, jumped the hoardings and sang Wonderwall with us. What a time to be alive!

Outside the stadium the Mexicans were all incredibly gracious and congratulated us. So many of them said ‘please beat Argentina for us’ to which we said, ‘we will try our best but have a small matter of Norway to get past first’.

We took the train home and were completely worn out. We got back just in time for a BBC5Live interview.

We had a great night’s sleep and turned our attention to using our last day in Atlanta wisely. We had gambled and booked flights to Mexico City on the off chance we would beat DR Congo. The gamble paid off. But first Kirsty had a BBC interview to do.

I’ve been to Atlanta a few times when the videogames show E3 was here, but it was another new city and state for Kirsty. We were impressed by the ‘Southern Hospitality’ which was pretty evident not least the contrast between cab drivers in Atlanta and those in New York. We had three amazing cab drivers, all quite different and all big advocates for Atlanta even though they had all relocated here from other states, two having come from New York and the other from Detroit.

Donald, no irony please, picked us up from the airport and was so laid back, literally, he was in the back seat with us. With his bandana, Prada shades and jewellery, he reminded me of Layfayette from True Blood and his looks and mannerisms really rammed that impression home. He appeared a tad cold on the current US president to say the least. He loved Atlanta as ‘you can choose your pace in this city brother’ and never wanted to leave.

Rod had what could only be described as a massive 4×4 come truck cab with an array of internal disco lights. He was a big man, with a booming but warm voice. Rod and I discussed the reasons why he loved Atlanta and for him it stemmed from the fact that in his words, Atlanta was the first city in the South to ‘open up’ as a result of the Civil Rights movement. Major US corporations had decided to locate their headquarters here for sound business reasons, something I had not ever realised. CNN, Coca Cola, Delta Airlines, UPS, Home Depot and more were major employers and contributors to the city. Rod was hilarious and just laughed and laughed when I asked him what he thought of the US president. ‘Huh, we stuck wid him now for a few more years, but he’s gone soon, he just wants to make as much money as he can, he don’t care about us’. When I suggested that the word buffoon was potentially applicable, he guffawed so loud it made me jump out of my seat.

Ronnie was a whole different story, but equally hilarious. He picked us up in his Tesla and in between rally driving around Atlanta, he asked Grok some questions. ‘Hey Grok, I am with some Brits and they are asking me about their football’. Grok then proceeded to tell us that we were ‘tea sipping Limey ***s and we loved a game played by ponces who can stand being hurt’. The three of us laughed so loud we forgot to notice the speed we were driving at. When I asked X about his views on you know who, he burst into laughter and told us both that he was a complete ***t.

On a serious note, Atlanta was the birth place of Civil Rights campaigner Martin Luther King Jnr, which all three of the boys and Mitch who we met up with at the match, had specifically mentioned. There is a big memorial park and significant buildings that featured in Martin Luther King Jnr’s life.

So we decided to visit the The King Center which was in Downtown. We went there via the MARTA and had a 15 minute walk from the King Memorial station. This was properly Downtown and I am not sure Kirsty was that comfortable walking. It was so incredibly hot and humid, and as we found out later, the hottest day of the year so far in Atlanta, never great for anyone’s mood!

We saw the Ebenezer Baptist Church where Martin Luther King Jnr had preached to his congregation and the row of houses that he lived in as a young boy.

His actual house was being restored, due to open on Independence Day on Saturday, which was a shame as we missed it by two days.

The Old Fire Station housed a lot of artefacts on a temporary basis as the main visitor centre was also undergoing refurbishment. All in all it was well worth visiting given the historic significance of Martin Luther King Jnr and the Civil Rights Movement in the US.

I can remember watching the news as a very young boy when the reports of his assassination came through on the BBC. Something about Martin Luther King Jnr resonated with me at a very early age and I remember my Mum telling me about the racial discrimination in the US back then. She told me that Martin Luther King Jnr’s mother had told her young son after he had been prevented from mixing with his white friends, ‘you are just as good as them son’. That stuck with me and I think it meant something special to my Mum who had suffered discrimination as a young girl at school during the war given she was Italian and the Italians had started on the wrong side in that war.

At his funeral, his coffin was transported on a simple donkey cart and over 20,000 people paid their respects and lined the streets. The man who had always said that all protest must be non-violent met a violent death, but his example and inspiration was key to the Civil Rights Movement making key changes to equality that the country and the people so desperately needed.

Kirsty and I then indulged ourselves and took a driverless cab back to Midtown to meet Colin and watch Spain demolish Austria 3-0 in a great sports bar called Midtown Hudson Grille.

Two more games to watch, a real thriller between 41 year old Ronaldo’s Portugal and 40 year old Modric’s Croatia. It ended up 2-1 rather controversially with VAR again but delivered the best second half of the tournament so far.

Mexico City awaits now and a date with destiny.

All things must pass, but please god, please not today.

Yet another early start, up and out of our hotel for 9am for a midday kick off in the 95 degree heat. A quick walk to the Midtown Station on the MARTA (Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transport Authority) public transport system, southbound to Five Points, change and then to Vine City and the stadium.

All the trains were heaving with supporters, loads of England, Columbia, Mexico, USA, Congo and Brazil shirts. We met a lovely American couple, Greg and Amy who we got talking to. Greg had been to nine World Cups, Amy had been to four, Kirsty five and myself 11. So between us we had been to 29. Greg had a 1986 England shirt on and Amy a Spurs shirt, but both had Kane on the back. I did say to them that it was a sign that King Harry would get two goals today. Greg laughed and said he hoped I was right and we made our way into the stadium.

And what a stadium the Mercedes Benz stadium is. Fully air conditioned and built by Arthur Blank, owner of the Atlanta Falcons and Atlanta United and founder of Home Depot, this is by far and away the best stadium we have visited so far. Opened in 2017, at a cost of $1.6bn, it’s the most expensive stadium ever built. Famous also for its ‘Pinwheel’ roof which stayed closed and fans first pricing.

We witnessed the Halo Board: A 360-degree, 58-foot-tall, and 1,100-foot-long HD video screen, the first and largest of its kind in professional sports which picked up so many fans during the game and on BBC News later.

Mr Blank has revolutionised stadium food costs, offering significantly reduced “street-priced” concessions, so here a beer was only $9 vs $19 in Dallas and $24 in New Jersey. Every English football team needs its very own Arthur Blank, Mr Kretinsky please take note!

We grabbed a few ice cold beers and found Colin who had managed to get a place in the accessible platform. We picked up a couple of souvenir cups for Barrie and start to get ready for the kick off. We also bumped into Thomas a Newcastle United fan from the FSA. Always great to see him and appreciate the work Free Lions do for us on the ground when England play away.

It’s do or die time now and this always brings me to a very, very anxious place. Not many people understand why I get so anxious, I don’t really understand it either and can only put it down to the years and years of travelling to support England only to end in disappointment. Lose today and we go home. ‘Twas ever thus.

The teams came out and the National Anthems were impeccably respected by all fans. Well done England fans again for showing that respect, the Karma Police and our team always appreciate that.

We were right behind the goal in amongst it all atmosphere wise and as usual we stood up for the whole game. It was so tense and yet again England made a very poor start this time conceding an early goal up the other end. Our defence was all over the place, not for the first time out here and that could be our ultimate undoing.

We drifted through to half time and hoped that the next 45 minutes would yield salvation, although it must be said that the Congo goalie, Lionel Mpasi made at least four great saves. But Wissa also hit the post for them. So the game was wide open.

The ice cold beers on top of a breakfast-free stomach started to take their toll and the gents were definitely calling. Substitutes were being made by Thomas Tuchel and it felt very much the last roll of the dice to all of us. There are screens everywhere in this stadium and just as I was headed back to my seat Harry Kane got his goal. Another cracking header. That was such a huge relief and I felt would get us properly back in the game. I think that goal was on 75 mins, and by the time I got back to Kirsty everyone was going mad.

The family in front of us, a dad Matt and his two young sons, Charlie and Toby all Evertonians, had been properly down in the dumps, one of the boys being in tears as soon as Congo had scored. The young couple next to us, both Baggies fans, had delayed getting a house and a dog to be here for the World Cup, and were now starting to believe too.

A few minutes later, Harry Kane nailed his second goal. It was hit so hard and travelled so fast none of us, including Mpasi, really saw it, and only realised it was a goal until when the net just bulged. Beer went up in the air and limbs were everywhere. The collective joy was simply incredible and the feeling of sheer relief was everywhere. I’ve not seen joy like that since Gary Lineker scored that equaliser in Turin in Italia 90.

It felt like all we needed to now was hold on. I have no idea how much extra time was played, but it ran out eventually along with my finger nails and we won, and that’s all that matters. Mexico in the Azteca Stadium in Mexico City lay in waiting.

At the end of the game, the England team stood in front of us whilst us fans serenaded them with ‘Wonderwall’. It was obvious that it meant a lot to our boys. We will need to be as one inside The Azteca Stadium on Sunday.

Colin and I met up with Mitch, an Atlanta United supporter post game and had a great chat. So many people we have met in Atlanta are so friendly and so proud of their city and region. Mitch was a great example of this and a big fan of Mr Arthur Blank.

Kirsty, myself and Colin then meandered out of the stadium and headed to a bar our friends from New York had recommended. Heidi (the joint host of the rooftop party in New York) and Anthony (who we had also met at the party) had been given tickets for the game at short notice so had flown in the previous day. They were joined by their friend Owen who lived in Atlanta. Taffer’s in Midtown was suitably fitted out with big screens and was more than comfortable.

We watched the Belgium vs Senegal (3-2) game and then the USA vs Bosnia Herzegovina (2-0) game together with Mark and Sam. We had to do another BBC5Live interview live from a toilet this time.

Another cracking evening of football with lovely people was had. It really is what the World Cup is all about.

Kirsty and I walked back to our hotel, exhausted and hot.

We did another quick piece for BBC5Live Breakfast and then to bed.

Footnote – the lovely West Brom supporting couple who we now know to be Eb and George, who we stood next to in the ground, only turned out to be friends of our niece Tabitha. Tabbie had seen us on TV standing next to them and had messaged Kirsty. What are the chances of that happening!!

It’s four hours to go before kick off at midday here in the impressive Mercedes Benz stadium in Atlanta and my nerves are predictably frayed. Win today and we head back forty years on to The Azteca Stadium in Mexico City for a massive game with Mexico. Lose and we are out of the World Cup and another four years to wait until we can have another crack at it.

We arrived at Atlanta from New York yesterday. Sadly, we missed Norway beating Ivory Coast 2-1. The flight arrived early but we then couldn’t get a slot to unload the aircraft. So early became late and then even more delays happened with everyone’s luggage. We need to get a crack on as we were due to go to the Atlanta Braves vs St Louis Cardinals baseball game at Truist Park 10 miles or so out of the city, which was due to start at 7.15pm.

Colin had got the tickets and was up at the stadium well in advance. Sam and Mark were also headed there too. It was 95 degrees outside and really humid.

We were against the clock, so needs must and public transport gave way to a cab. The traffic was heavy, to be expected given it was match day.

We finally got to the stadium at 6.30pm, met with Colin, Mark and Sam at the Live Bar and sorted the tickets out via the ubiquitous Ticketmaster app and went in. We caught the back end of France demolishing Graeme Potter’s Sweden 3-0. France look unstoppable, I just can’t see them being beaten right now!

The sun was out, the crowd was in great spirits and the tickets were only $17.50 each, so all good.

I’ve been to baseball before, but Kirsty hadn’t. I have a vague idea of the rules but our seats were high up and trying to track the ball from the pitcher was a challenge to say the least. As the game went on I started to understand what was happening more and more. Given time, I could get into baseball.

There were loads of England fans at the game and the between plays entertainment was plentiful and mostly distracting. It’s not hard to see why and how our sports are going this way – think T20 cricket for example. But you can’t knock the inclusive entertainment on offer for the whole family that happens out here.

The game was decent, but the Braves lost 5-3 which was disappointing really.

We had planned to head back to the Live Bar to watch Mexico vs Ecuador. Kirsty and Colin had headed over there earlier to get a spot but it was rammed with Mexican fans and the queue to get in was two hours. Kick off had been delayed by an hour because of an electrical storm in the area and everyone was getting a little tetchy. We made the tactical decision to head back into town and catch the game in a bar. Mexico ran out easy two nil winners, so if England were to beat Dr Congo, we will play Mexico in Mexico City. And that really would be a game.

We did a quick piece for BBC5Live Breakfast and got some sleep.

But all of this is in the future, and that game against Mexico won’t happen if we don’t win today. It’s do or die. I reckon it will be 2-2, go to penalties and we win it, just. Win today and we are halfway there, right now we are all living on a prayer.

And just as I write this we had a call with my Mum and Dad, which was lovely. Mum always worries about me when I am away at football, but Dad has always been calm and wished me the best. He did that again today and it brought a tear to my eye.

Come on Mum and Dad, come on England!

And now….this stadium is off the scale

We had a couple of days vaguely spare post match day to see New York and catch up with a bunch of friends . After an England game, we are always exhausted and the previous night’s party on top of a packed day had wiped us both out. So for once, a little lie in was in order. We said goodbye to Jordan and Nathan as they were off for a few days break. They really had been the most wonderful and generous hosts. We could not thank them enough.

We had arranged to meet up with Colin, Paul and Cathy and their family, Mike and his boys, plus Kelvin and Liza in The Bowery Beer Garden in Chinatown. It was Pride weekend and the city was going to be stacked. We settled down to watch the only game of the day, the first round of 32 knock outs, Canada vs South Africa. To be honest it was not much of a game, South Africa were playing not to lose and Canada really were the better side, just. A last minute winner sealed it for the Canadians and the first host nation was through to the last 16.

We talked a lot about West Ham, the relegation to the Championship, the success of the #NoMoreBS campaign to remove Brady and Sullivan from our club, some old days stuff and the prospects for the new season ahead. We also talked about following England away and all that entailed, the ups and the downs and what it all really meant. Everyone had had a good time out here, and beating Panama made it all that little bit better.

The time came to say goodbye, the Christmasses were back to the UK tomorrow, Mike and his boys later that night and Kelvin and Liza were decamping to the UK for their annual six week vacation. We would see Colin in Atlanta.

We had a lazy walk around Midtown and then back via the Subway to the apartment. It was hot and humid and clearly evening time is dog walking time. It seems like everyone in New York has a dog.

I needed to do a BBC5Live interview about ‘why were we so optimistic about England given how bad we were’ which was a bit of a waste of time.

Once that was done, we picked up some Japanese food and found late night Midsummer Murders on TV to go to sleep to. Imagine our surprise when we saw one of our friends in one of the episodes. He played a person who got garroted!

Next day was another meet up, this time with Tony Rizzaro who lives upstate and came in by train to Grand Central Station.

We met up in Stout, a great sports bar nearby. They had the requisite enormous amount of screens and first up was Brazil vs Japan in the second of the round of 32 matches. Given the quality of these two teams it was galling that one would be eliminated, but that’s the luck of the draw for you. Japan scored a blinder to lead 1-0 at half time. But I always felt Brazil would win the game. The Brazilian fan on the next table, Baptista, was not so sure, but I kept reassuring him that the win would come. It did and poor Japan were sent packing. Baptista was relieved and we gave each other a hug. Tony had to get his train back so we bid farewell and recreated a picture we had taken in New York nine years previously and hoped it would not be so long before we met again.

We decided to stay put for the Germany vs Paraguay game. I was convinced that Germany would win this. Just like Brazil, the Germans went behind to a cracking goal but managed to get an equaliser to take the game into extra time. Once that time ran out and the dreaded penalties were coming up, I was still convinced that the Germans would win. My friend Ralf was texting me to express his sheer frustration with the German team and a manager, he feared the worst. ‘I don’t know what is happening in Nagelsmann‘s Brain… our midfield is completely wrong staffed’ and ‘Kimmich in the wrong position …. Goretzka wrong player, Pavlovic wrong’.

Germans just don’t miss penalties. Until this time. Balbuena latterly of West Ham managed to miss his penalty for Paraguay just to add to the drama. It was to be the first of two penalty shoot outs of the day, both littered with very poor penalties indeed.

Kirsty and I decided to take a stroll down to the Fan Park in Brooklyn and check it all out. There were multiple games of football taking place on plastic pitches and some of it was a pretty good standard.

The Fan Park close at 10pm, no matter what times the World Cup games are on, which is pretty ridiculous really. We grabbed an ice cream, which was both delicious and massive and headed back to catch The Netherlands vs Morocco game. One thing you really notice in the US is the amount of advertising for legal services, usually very personal and direct and all about getting you compensation or damages for something or another. It’s everywhere and it’s part of the litigious culture of the USA.

That promised to be a great one, two very technical and attacking teams would surely go at each other. And they did. Cody Gakpo scored a great goal brilliantly assisted by Jimmy Somerville currently a West Ham player. The equaliser for Morocco was scored by Issa Diop another ex West Ham player.

That took us into extra time and then the inevitable penalties. The Netherlands have as bad if not worse record at penalties than England do and true to form they lost out, and poor Somerville missed his penalty too.

My thoughts then went to our game against DR Congo on Wednesday. You just know it will be a complete drama and my feeling is a 2-2 draw and then penalties, which I believe we may win. Another West Ham player will likely be against us in Atlanta, Aaron Wan-Bissaka so who knows if that’s a good or a bad omen. All we know is that it will be a tight and tense game.

I checked the FIFA website for tickets to the England vs DR Congo match and there were plenty and the prices were falling as we all predicted. FIFA had a managed to get optimum prices for the loyal supporters and then sell off unsold tickets for less. So much for loyalty!

Anyway some much needed sleep and Atlanta here we come!

Matchday again. Always a nervous time when you support England and West Ham. And always a busy time too.

I got up early and popped round to Pecks to get some breakfast for myself, Kirsty, Jordan and Nathan to set all of us up for long day ahead. Jordan and Nathan had a busy day ahead but weren’t coming to the game. Pecks is one of those places that sells ‘sandwiches’ that come in all shapes and very big sizes. Nathan said that the man who makes the sandwiches has made them for as long as he has lived in Brooklyn so estimated it was probably something like 800 plus for him alone!

Kirsty and I walked for about 15 mins and took the Subway at Clinton Washington into Manhattan and Penn Station. We jumped into a supermarket, picked up some beers and seltzers and headed for the train. The New Jersey Transit system had laid on trains that went to the stadium. Very reasonably priced at over $200 for the two of us! The ride was about 30 mins!

We had to queue into Penn Station, show our match and train tickets and get a wristband. The whole station had been closed to anyone not travelling to the game and the queue gently wound through the station. Everyone was packed onto the trains, standing room only, until they were full and sent on our way. We met a nice couple who were on their way to their first ever soccer game, so we shared our beers and briefed them as to what to expect. Boo the hydration breaks and boo any random celebrities that FIFA deemed to put on the screen. They found it hilarious.

We were all off the train at Seacaucus and then all on another train to head to the Met Life stadium. You would have thought we would have had a direct train for $200! It turned out that our friends Paul and Johnny, both West Ham fans were also on the same train as us, but at the back so we agreed to wait on the station to meet up. That all worked smoothly and the next stop was to find somewhere to drink.

As with all these US stadiums, there really isn’t much by way of local infrastructure. Stadiums are very much out of town and on retail parks. More West Ham friends Colin and Barrie were already in position at the American Dream mall and so we headed over to there. As we walked through the multi storey car park, who should we bump into but Colin and Barrie! They were headed to the stadium, so time for a quick catch up and pictures and onwards.

The mall was full to the brim with football fans, a huge amount of Panama fans, which is unsurprising given the size of the Panamanian diaspora here, which is much like every other diaspora, enormous! Every bar was rammed and the queues were all over an hour. Our friends Kelvin and Liza had found a place called Dream 360 which was an Asian restaurant with a bar. They had managed to get in and so Paul, Johnny, Kirsty and myself slipped in. We told our friends Mark and Sam to meet there too. As with all these places it was chaos. They just aren’t geared up for thirsty football supporters and simply cannot cope. We managed to order up 32 beers so that we didn’t waste time in future.

It was now 2pm, with the game some three hours away. All was well. It was tipping down with rain outside. Yet again we were being spared hot temperatures on match day. A real blessing, not for us but for the team.

We decided to head to the stadium in good time, you can never rely on how long it takes to get through security, so always best to allow more time. As always, the security staff and police were all really friendly and pretty efficient. I bid Kelvin farewell, we were both nervous and both predicted 2-1 to England.

The atmosphere was electric, every single fan played their part. Hats off to everyone really, it’s what makes The World Cup very, very special. We bumped into our old friend Shane, a fellow veteran of many World Cups and took some pictures. Pictures which none of us had been able to locate since!

As kick off approached rain was getting heavier and heavier but it wasn’t cold. We were right behind the goal, again so really close to the action.

England could not afford to fall into the same trap that Ghana laid for us with their low block and excessively defensive approach. Panama were effectively playing for pride as they were out, but those teams are always the most dangerous. Tuchel had changed the team, out went Noni, Spence, Gordon, James and Rice, in came Rashford, Saka, Rogers, O’Reilly and Quansah. At no stage in the game did I ever not think we were in full control of the game and we were not going to do anything except win, but clearly back home that wasn’t the case given the amount of messages I was getting from all of my friends all of which were resoundingly and universally negative. It confirms what I have always thought, the game you watch live at the stadium is nothing like the one you see on TV.

Anyway, after a bit of toil, we scored twice and ran out 2-0 winners. Relief all round. Atlanta here we come as Senegal awaits. Or so we thought.

We met up with Mark, Sam, Kelvin, Liza, Barrie, Colin, Steve and his son in the same bar, watched the Colombia vs Portugal and DR Congo vs Uzbekistan all at the same time. Somehow, our opponents in the round of 32 became DR Congo and not Senegal. Does anyone actually know how the system of third place teams and who they play actually works? Whoever you end up playing in the knockouts, it’s pure jeopardy. Literally winner takes all, losers go home, players and fans!

We let the human traffic calm down and headed back to Penn. We were off to a rooftop Pride party in Williamsburg, which really is a cool part of town.

As we approached, we heard our friends shouting down at us and as if by magic, a front door key arrived on a rope for us to key ourselves in. How cool was that!

Everyone, and I mean everyone at the party was so lovely. We met so many great people. Nathan was DJing and did an amazing job. Jordan made sure we met everyone. We took a cab home with Robyn and Tim who were hilarious and couldn’t get the door open for a while. Don’t ask.

A perfect end to a perfect day.

Thank you New York & New Jersey.