BEAT LA! (Oh god, NFL, not like that!)

Its time to say goodbye to baseball season and hello to football ('murican football. The domestic-abuse-y one.) And as much as I want to watch football and enjoy it as much as baseball it just doesn't have the same warm squishy feeling as the ol' ball game. It might be that I've been spoilt by Giants fans who are utterly adorable (the worst the Dodgers got from the orange army was accusations of being 'a bum'. Adorbs. The only swearing was from a drunk Brit a couple of rows back in the bleachers - so proud. On the way out of the ballpark, after a crushing defeat, the Giants fans were chanting 'BEAT LA' into the faces of Dodgers fans, before shaking them by the hand and wishing them a pleasant evening. Astounding), or it might be that baseball resembles the rounders we used to play on the common in our P.E. kit. The violence that has been associated with NFL players certainly doesn't endear me to them, and, as a Brit, I am obliged to mention the fact that Rugby players run around with no padding, whilst the delicate little Football players need padding and helmets, and are now being encouraged to wear concussion monitors to make sure they don't get too bruised. Poor little poppets.

I think its all of those things, plus the class thing. Football appears to be a college sport (and by football I mean American football. And by college, I mean University. **sigh**) meaning that the lads in the NFL are generally either graduates, graduands, students or college drop outs (you had an opportunity and you dropped out to play sport - that is more of an opportunity than many kids get). Baseball players, however, are often drafted from high school, giving the game a more working class feel. And the young lads are often married to wholesome-looking high school sweethearts with a coupla kids. The whole thing feels very family-oriented and inclusive.

And you don't have to be in peak physical condition, apparently - makes me think I've got a future in sport after all.

We want a pitcher, not a belly-itcher - Baseball for noobs

So, baseball is my new thing. An awesome friend got us some tickets to an actual San Francisco Giants game, and I am totally freakin' hooked.

I'm a Portsmouth girl, so allying oneself to a local team and supporting them with mindless (and sometimes violent) loyalty is in my blood. Seriously, don't get me started on Harry Redknapp. And I watched the SuperBowl in a Dodgers hoodie really hoping that it would sweep me up, but it left me feeling a bit meh. Being a part of a baseball game, however, has totally got me hooked. And not just 'what-a-lovely-day-to-sit-in-the-bleachers-and-eat-junk-food' hooked. The serious 'listening-to-static-on-AM-radio-in-the-car' hooked.

And I know my enthusiasm is real because I'm actually remembering the players names and numbers. My brain is pretty stubborn and if I'm not genuinely into something it won't even let me play along by remembering a few key facts that can be regurgitated in company. When I am interested, however, its like a fucking drunk at the bar, hovering up every last drop of booze and squeezing out the drip mats. This often backfires (despite not watching a single episode of Big Brother I can name every single fucking contestant and which minor celebrity they shacked up with upon leaving the BB house) and fills my brain with useless and embarrassing toot. On this occasion, however, I have already managed to impress people at the BallPark with my baseball banter.

"All we really need is Posey and Pagan."
"What about Morse? Surely we couldn't function without Beast Mode?"
"You're probably right, since he joined from the Seahawks the team have really come together. I think he's a good influence on and off the field".

There. See. Fucking sponge.

I think it really helped that I had a fantastic chum next to me explaining what was going on and when I should stand up/clap/take my hat off & whatnot. Here's a quick idiots guide:

1. If you're going to a ball game (its a game, not a match) then you'll want to sit in the bleachers. A box is fun, but you are further from the field (not pitch) and you stand no chance of catching one of the foul or practice balls.

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2. Bring a mitt or a cap to catch a ball if it comes your way. You don't stand a chance because there
are a myriad of pushy parents and snotty kids who will shove you out the way, but if you're feeling brave you can jostle the little shits out the way. Just claim you've got a terminal illness or something and the grown-ups will forgive you.

3. Don't peak too soon on the snack front - I went a little cray-cray and bought a lobster roll, garlic fries, a bucket of drink and some candy-floss before we sat down. Remember - you might be sat there for 4 hours, and the chaps will come round with snack age throughout the game, so pace yourself.

4. Bring booze. And snacks. And suntan lotion. Why the fuck not - you're allowed!!! Also, on a sunny day the UV will kick the shit out of you and you'll be the only lobster mincing out of the ballpark.

5. You have to stand for the national anthem AND take off your hat. Seriously - its exactly like off of the telly when they get some local hint to stand up and sing a warbly verse of the Land of the Free while everyone - no joke - stands with their caps dothed and their hands over their hearts. They even cheered when it got to the penultimate line.
"The land of the freeeeeeee **yeeeeeehaw!!!**...And the home of the braaaaaaave".
I have been assured that this is because the song is nearly over, but it does seem to accentuate the statement with an audible italicization and punctuate the 'land of the free' with an audible exclamation mark. Again, as I've been discovering, this is very very important in the US, for a multitude of very legitimate political and historical reasons, and me, as a fucking traitor Brit, really shouldn't take the piss.

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6. One of the anthem birds got proposed to and I cried (yeah, yeah, whatever - I'm not made of stone y'know) and everyone cheered the jumbotron (yes, its actually called that!!! I feel like I'm IN an episode of the Simpsons!!)

7. You'll make heaps of new friends. The bleachers are very intimate and everyone is chatting with everyone else. You don't HAVE to, but you kinda get caught up in the excitement of it all.

8. The game is split into 8 innings, plus the first half of a ninth inning. Each inning gives each team a chance to bat and get as many rounders...I mean runs...as they can before 3 of their players are caught out. If you have ever played rounders then you'll pick up the rules super quick. The first half of each inning is called 'the top' and the second half 'the bottom', meaning you'll be able to exclaim with confidence that "its the top of the seventh and no fucker has scored a dickie bird". The ninth inning gives the visiting team a chance in the first half, and if the home team are still in the lead at the end of the first half then the game is over. If the home team are tied then they get a chance to play in the second half of the ninth. More innings are added if the score is still tied.

9. The game can be a bit slow, and no-one scored anything for at least 2 hours, so to keep the crowd excited they played the organ music/the flappy bit at the start of 'Carwash'/theme songs for some of the batsmen. There wasn't any chanting though, which was weird. Then I remembered that we're in the US, not the UK. You are unlikely to find the home crowd casting aspersions about the sexual preferences of the visiting pitcher, or chanting in their thousands that the star player is a twat. There was a bit of booing when the opposition coach threw a tanty and kicked up the dust in a petulant strop, but apart from that its all very positive and hi-fivey.

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10. Some of the players have very nice physiques. I'm just saying. Its pretty obvious who the heart
throbs are, and one can enjoy their tight white trousers.

11. Some of the players DO NOT have nice physiques and look like they have just stepped out of KFC to wheeze onto the field.

12. When the home team started to pull their finger out and score some runs towards the end of the seventh inning the crowd went ape shit and it was SO FREAKIN' EXCITING!! Seriously - I found myself jumping up with everyone else and whooping and cheering. Very tribal and soooooo much fun.

13. Brand is key. Each of the players has a 'thing' that helps support their personal brand off the field, and sells merch. Michael Mores has 'Beast Mode' (and a deal with a clothing company), Pablo Sandoval is nicknamed the Panda, and you can buy corresponding panda hats in the dugout shop and Angel Pagan salutes whenever he gets on the field, supporting the troops and whatnot. The cynic in me thinks its all carefully crafted to maximize potential earnings, but the romantic in me thinks that they are all a thoroughly bloody nice bunch of chaps just having fun and enjoying their jobs.

14. At the end of the game everyone files out in an orderly and sensible fashion and gets on their public transport mode of choice and fucks off home. WHAT?? No drunken brawls? No chanting down the road?? No bowling into the nearest boozer to get tanked up tip closing time? Apparently not. I appreciate this is only one game, but my research suggests that baseball fans are pretty well behaved.

I'm still reading up on the rules, because, although it IS basically rounders there are some extras they've introduced to keep things fair and above board, but you don't really need to know because your fellow game-goers will drag you along and you'll know when to cheer and when to be indignant and when to nibble your churro nervously while the dudes in black watch the playback on a tiny video screen and decide whether your prized-batter is in or out.

It really was sooooo much fun and it felt like a rite of passage. Try and leave your cynical British trousers at home and put on your Giants baseball cap and you'll be swept along in a tidal wave of true americanism.

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Soccer

I've never really had a thing for David Beckham, (so Vicky should seriously back off - I'm not interested in your man, k?) but I don't question that he is the epitome of a British footballer (fine - soccer player - whatevs - pretty sure we invented it, but don't let that stop you from 'correcting' me). 

I was chatting to some lovely peeps in a bar in California and, to detract from the fact that my sporting banter is very limited, I started talking about the differences between the college system in the States and the football academies in the UK. In the UK we groom our future footballers from a really young age - they are spotted as little boys (yes, boys, a combination of factors means that women's football is not televised, and young female footballers are not in demand like their male counterparts. It's a fact, despite what personal irritation this may cause) and go to a succession of academies that train them to be top notch, but don't really focus on any backup plan. If you don't become David Beckham #2 then what do you do? The focus has been on the sport, so unless you've got an epic support network who can steer you towards education/qualifications/apprenticeships etc then you get a bit lost and end up working in a supermarket, trading on an old dream, telling people you once had a try-out for Arsenal. Surely the American system of highly-regarded college football is better?

So, you're the high school track star, you get a sports scholarship to an amazing university, but throughout your sports training you have to maintain an average grade to ensure you don't lose sight of your education, just in case, ya know, Miami Heat don't come calling. Fab idea, shame that's not always how it works.

The peeps I was chatting to were quick to correct me. Apparently colleges stand to gain quite a lot financially from having sporting stars play for them. Brits may be surprised to hear that college football is televised in the US, and not in a Transworld Sport, 6am on a Sunday morning way. It is properly important. This country thrives on competition, and if your old college is playing you really care if they win. Damn - Brits can be so dismissive - I know I don't give a crap if Warwick beat Manchester in a crappy soccer game.

So, your college team is pretty good, you get a lot of tv coverage, people see your college as superior, they go there, your college gets money. Easy.

Now comes the part that my lovely bar peeps explained - if you are a potential money-spinner your high

school/college will do whatever they can to keep your grades up, like hire a tutor. A tutor who might be able to do the really hard stuff for you if you're too busy running around?

Now, I know nothing about this approach, except what I've been told, so don't get your panties in a twist if your college really did focus on education. Blah blah. My point is that the British system and US system of grooming young sporting stars is ostensibly the same. If you become a star then you're sorted. If you don't then you may well end up out in the cold world with dashed dreams, the faded glory of being the next big thing and no idea what to do next. In the US you'll have a college degree, but it may be worth sod all because you didn't actually do the work.

I know there are plenty of people who go on to have amazing careers in other areas, but the systems aren't

foolproof, and the more money that's at stake the more people stop seeing the kids and start seeing cash cows.

I don't pretend to have a solution. Maybe stop paying sports people in the most popular sports so much money? Unlikely. Anyway, I'm not about solving problems, I'm about exploring perspectives. And talking. Constantly. Most importantly my Cali bar trip has been an education as always - everyone was charming, interesting and educated. Might try and have this discussion in Aquum in Clapham, see how far I get.

You had one job...

Coming from the home of the 6:57 crew, as I do, I am used to a certain brand of football supporter. Its the same story in all the working class areas of the UK. Win, and the fans float about the city on a cloud of pride and righteousness. Lose, and the city/opposing fans/football grounds get smashed up.

This week, after all the media hype and anticipation , the 49ers lost against the Seahawks in a game that killed their chances of reaching the 2014 Superbowl. I watched the news as the team slowly drove their coach back to the grounds in San Francisco...to the cheers of around a hundred fans?? What?? CHEERS?? Seriously - if a team loses in the UK they are lucky if NOBODY shows up, because SOMEBODY showing up means you're going to get pelted with cans and verbal abuse.

I exaggerate, and I'm not condoning the behaviour of football hooligans, but the point still stands - you had

one job, guys, ONE JOB. And you failed. Its very sweet that your fans wait for you at midnight to welcome you home with, "Nevermind", "You did great!" and, "There's always next year!", but those people spend ALOT of their hard-earned moolah on your merchandise. They work hard in their jobs to come watch you do yours. Badly, as it turns out.

Count yourself lucky that you're playing in the States, that's all I can say, because if you played in the UK you would have some serious questions to answer.