USA Email Series 16: To covet, wrath, oxen and ass‏

(First sent: 14th October 2009)

Hi there sports fans,

Having been smugger than a Republican chairing a Fox news debate, regarding the continuing good weather, I am eating some serious humble pie this week. The day after I finished mocking you; isolated, freezing and bored on your little island like lepers at a barn dance hosted by Lionel Blair, the weather here turned greyer than John Major's favourite suit (oooh a nineties political reference - edgy). Revenge is yours, but I still wager that most of you would sell a kidney to be in Calitothefornia so I shall remain smug. So long as smug is wearing some big ass socks and a hoodie this season.

Luckily, prior to the downturn in warmth, I attended a the biggest event of my life. How big? BIG. BIGGGG. GODDAMNMASSIVE. FREAKINGBIGGERTHANYOURTINYMINDCANCOMPREHENDYOUGODDAMNAHOLE. Yeah, it was Sunday night Football!!! FOOTBALL. DO YOU WANT SOME? DO YOU WANT FOOTBALL? No? Oh, sorry.

Seriously (kinda), these guys take it very seriously. Serious. And BIG. Rocking up to the stadium, with my packed lunch and camera, I began to feel somewhat out of place when I realised that nobody else had brought their sun cream. Or a packed lunch. They'd regret it later when I was dishing out the cheese and pickle, make no mistake.

Actually, for some reason, they all seemed pretty contented with their beers. My word, what a plethora of beers there were. There was Bud, Bud Light and... er... well, you get the idea. Actually, one of the American traditions at the game is to arrive early and 'tailgate'. No, that is not some Trans-Atlantic re branding of 'dogging', but the practice of large hipped Americans unhinging the back of their Ford Comegetyousome and using the 'tailgate' as a bar. Do you see? That's why it's called tailgating. Clever stuff eh?

They whack open the back, boil up the barbie, stick half an ox on it and have a blast. And my, did I ever covet thy neighbours ox. The steaks were so big, juicy and tender looking that I nearly hacked off a piece of my own arm with my Swiss Army just so I could join in the cook out. Actually, I think Jamie Oliver did that... oh, no wait. It was part of his face, which is why he's so pretty.

After observing the beery joys of sitting on a deckchair in a large car park and getting drunk in 100 degree weather, the fun moved inside the stadium. The thing that struck me was the safety aspects. Now, football back home (or Soccerball as they know it over here) can be brutal - arriving among hordes of chavs, shepherded into the ground by furious looking policemen who have seen it all before and didn't particularly care for it the first time, then moved into your rain sodden seats by a steward with fists bigger than an asses head, it can be a slightly less than welcoming experience. Thank god football is bloody good.

But the American version is more jazzy by some distance. It's like 'Sport: The musical' has been unleashed. The weather is great, the mustard flows and home and away fans are all in together. What's the point in separating them? They've only had 5 million beers outside, and the PA is trying to whip everyone up into a testosterone filled frenzy: what can go wrong?

Well, actually not much at all. Sure, one bloke was a bit over enthusiastic with his name calling to the Dolphin's fans, and those fans took it upon themselves to launch one of their empty (plastic) beer bottles at him. Sure, the guy reacted by having quiet conversations with his mate then looking up at his nemesis, shouting "That's it, I'm gonna smoke you. That's it" whilst making his hand into the shape of a gun and letting off some imaginary rounds at his foe. It's just boys being boys.

As it happened, nothing happened, because they were both a bit tired and a bit drunk and a bit poorly, and when it was clear that the game was won by San Diego, they all just left early. Still, with 70,000 people pouring onto the streets I expected more of a police presence, but there was literally about 7 of them, stood around looking bored. Perhaps I'm just cynical but the phrase 'are you kidding' springs to mind. I guess that without the history of violence that soccerball has had in England, the Americans can enjoy their sports in the right way: with a huge frigging steak out the back of a 4x4.

Well, other than my sporting adventures (Go Chargers, go) and my hardy and delighted inspection of the half time cheerleaders, life has been drifting along pretty nicely thankyouverymuchindeedy. Apart from the usual toilet cleaning and shower scrubbing I've been doing all manner of things to keep me busy. He's some of the fun facts:

1. Was responsible for turning the head housekeepers toe black after a game of footy in the park. These Japanese can't take the heat (or perhaps I'm just rubbish at tackling, got a bit angry then kicked out - you choose)
2. Took the trolley to yet more beaches. I never get tired of those bad boys.
3. Had quite some trouble sleeping. Being in the very top bunk makes it bloody hot.
4. The air con doesn't help either
5. Or the noise from the restaurant below.
6. Damn them
7. Spent a day taking apart many, many, bunks as the rooms were being turned into private ones (as the season dies down, this is standard to try to sell out the Hostel quicker). It was a thankless task that took all bloody day, not helped by Dan, the resident Aussie proclaiming each time I dropped a piece that I 'got it caught up in my skirt'.
8. Still, made $100. Get. In. Volved.
9. Heard from quite a number of you, which is nice. Keep the stuff a-comin
10. Decided to head to Vegas next. Not sure if this is wise on my own, but if I should die, think only of me that I did it my wayyyyyyyyy.
11. Was forced to prance up and down the newly built stairs in one of the rooms that was being renovated. Unfortunately, the handyman could scarcely have looked less impressed when I couldn't really do it and he had to start again. Make the steps wider next time toolio.
12. Felt like a gigantic idiothole when answering the door and almost refusing to let Maria (the owner) in. She didn't have a key, I was just being cautious.
13. Got some rad pictures of the NFL game. Funny there seems to be a lot of the cheerleaders. Can't imagine why.
14. Failed to attend the last baseball game of the season. It's not my fault the Padre's suck at what is an extremely tedious sport. I say that the ball should be bigger to assist the teams. And instead of a bat, they should kick it, just so there's more hits. Rather than trying to kick it out of the ground, which would be pretty easy, they could try to kick it into a bucket, receptacle or 'goal' and then they can have a point. Whoever has the most 'goals' after, say, about an hour and a half, wins. These small changes will enhance the experience no end.

So my time in Cali is coming to a close and I can say it's been lovely. Lovelier than a sunset over a haunted wood. Yes, it's that special. But worry ye not fair reader, for the road is calling like a demented voice in my head, that whispers 'burn it. Burn it all to the ground' and soon I shall be back on it. Indeed, plans are forming in my head as we speak and dreams of Vegas dance like buttercups in the breeze.

Until next time. Be safe. Be aware. Don't drink and drive.

Byeloveyoubye xx