The night before flying out to the US, I went round to my best pal Barney’s house to watch the Croatia match in a wonderful family environment. Still stressing over last-minute organisation, I wasn’t quite fully excited about the trip yet. Fast forward 90 minutes and this was far from the case.
Thomas Tuchel had brought a completely new style of play to England with the main priority on exciting attacking football, sealing our first 4-2 win at a World Cup since the 1966 final, surely a good omen. We’d been waiting to see this type of football for God knows how long and now I couldn’t wait to see us replicate this in Boston against Ghana.
Historic City
This part of New England played a huge role in the origin story of the US. Outraged by the tax on tea, the local Patriots snuck onto the British boats and protested by throwing 342 chests of tea into Boston Harbour. The British Government retaliated accordingly against this defiance with strict sanctions leading to further tensions.
The Boston Tea Party as it became known was a huge catalyst in the American War of Independence that eventually led to the formation of the United States of America just three years later in 1776.
Landing in Massachusetts on a wonderfully mannered commuter flight, I had grand plans to get out and see some sights, wander around the city and find somewhere central to watch Argentina play Austria.
Paying £55 for a bed in a dorm meant I was actively trying to claw some savings back so I sorted out a ‘Too Good to Go’ from a 7/11. About 15 ageing Donuts and 6 Apple Strudels for $5, that should sort me out for a day or three.
Time for Plan B
As is common in this part of the world in June, the rains came. Before I knew it, I was in a Mexican pub watching the game trying to sneak a bite of my donut while the staff weren’t looking.
Post-match, tourism was replaced by a nap as the bad weather continued. Evening brought a train into town to try and get amongst the England fans for a good sing-song. Several weeks earlier I’d joined a Scotland fans Facebook Group in order to get some tips knowing they would be in Boston for 10 days before the Three Lions arrived.
Putting aside their strong dislike of the English, you have to give them credit. The connection they made with Boston in terms of the joy and entertainment they brought to the city was one of the viral stories of the World Cup Group Stage. They pretty much drank the city dry but we were hoping that the stocks had been replenished in time for our arrival.
The beers were indeed back flowing and I joined the good natured singing throughout the evening before moving on to one of the livelier locations. I must say, I’ve never seen a team of staff so clearly ready for the end of a shift.
On their last legs
The American bar staff are notoriously overstretched but one poor lass looked like she was about to lose the will to live. Drained of energy and looking along the bar to see 6 or 7 smiling English faces patiently waiting for their next round of drinks. The Tartan Army had certainly left their mark on the city.
Kick off was 4pm, but FIFA in their wisdom had commandeered the trains for the day, allowing no other access to the stadium and charging $80 return for the pleasure, a 300% mark up on the usual $20.
My allocated slot was between 9-10 in the morning, not ideal but in hindsight it saved my usual late panic when left to my own devices and got me sat comfortably at the bar several hours before kick off. Once again the songs rang out and we were all suitably pumped ready for some more Thomas Tuchel magic.
Another cracking venue, The Gillette Stadium. Home to the New England Patriots has seen many a success over the years hosting the most decorated team in Super Bowl history. Despite the typical search for negative media stories, there was one thing that everyone could agree on with this tournament and that was the stadia being world-class, this one was no different.
Little bonus
I found my seat, decided it was too far from our fans and tried to sneak into the England end. I scooched past a rousing rendition of a certain song relating to our German friends before surprisingly being met by zero resistance and strolled right into the England section. There was even an empty spot on the end of a row, this was all working out wonderfully.
A passionate singing of the national anthem followed and we were good to go……or not. 10 minutes in and we’d reverted to our turgid worst, barely a shot on target as Ghana held out for a draw.
My personal highlight was buying two beers for the princely sum of $36 only to return to my seat where I was met with the ‘payment declined’ notification, turns out the payment never went through. The biggest cheer of the day. One of the most drab games of football I’d ever had the pleasure of attending. £350 well spent some might not say.
Credit where it’s due
On a sidenote, a huge credit to the police and security, one for not accosting me for entering the wrong section, and two for the general attitude. Singing along to Sweet Caroline, smiling and going along with the happy atmosphere, a bit of a lesson for some of their more aggressive European counterparts.
As always when arriving alone, I’d picked up a few new buddies during the day and we drank the night away discussing all things football and life well into the early hours before heading home.
I’d allocated the following day to finally squeeze in some tourism before jumping on the Amtrak to New York but a TUFC legend had other ideas…