Super Bowl in Scotland

So, much like skiing in Switzerland, I forgot my camera. So there are no pictures. (I can hear Amy from here: “You’re such a man.”) I was able to find a Super Bowl party hosted by the Edinburgh Wolves, an American Football team. I figured there would be maybe 100 people at this bar that they rented out for the night. The game was on from 11:00pm to 3:30am. It cost £5 to enter (or $8). Unfortunately, you then also had to pay for your beverages and food (if you wanted any). So, I walked from the Heatherlea to the bar, which took about 30 minutes. I timed it perfectly, walking in the door at the national anthem. Well, it turns out that there is a decent fan base here, and the bar was packed. I would guess there 400-500 people there, not 100. Although there were TVs all over the place, I couldn’t get into position to see one. I looked upstairs and spied a group of three gents seated at a table for 6 with a premium view of a big screen. I decided waiting any longer would spell disaster.

I went to the table, asked if anyone was sitting there. This was the gist of the conversation:

Me: Is anyone sitting here? May I sit here?

Calem: Well, our mate is on the way. Sorry!

Me: So he’s not here? He’s coming later?

Calem: Sorry mate, you can’t sit here ‘cause our friend is coming.

Me: Okay… (throwing my jacket down on the bench seat and sitting)… I’ll get up, no questions asked, as soon as he gets here.

Calem: So you’re gonna sit there anyway, even though I said no?

Me: Yes. (pause) Look, I’m not going to bother you and when the rest of your friends arrive, I’ll get up and leave, no questions.

The response was icy but I didn’t appear to be in danger. I waited a few minutes before making a comment or two. Long story short, Calem, Johnnie, and the other guy were buying me drinks by the end of the Super Bowl and their mate never showed up. Calem spent a good five minutes apologizing for “not being so friendly” at the beginning.

So there were very few if any other Americans at this ordeal. When I asked what people were going to do about work the next day, my new friends simply responded “What do you mean? They’ll just go to work.” I asked, “Won’t they be drunk?” Laughter was followed by a unanimous “This is Scotland!”

The Scottish knew more about the NFL than I thought they would. They knew players, starting lineups, had opinions about players. The strangest thing was that 90% of the bar wanted the Saints to win and they booed Manning when his picture appeared. Like Manning or not, you simply can’t boo the guy. That’s like booing the president or the pope; like them or not, you just don’t boo people of such significance.

I was very excited when the game was clearly going to overtime. I mean, Manning had the ball and all the time in the world. At the interception, the bar rang the bell. Seriously, they still ring a bell here for last call. It means 15 minutes. Second bell means too bad, no more drinks. That has two important points. First, they still use a bell to announce last call. Second, the bartenders knew enough about American Football that the interception triggered last call. I was impressed.

I was able to see the commercials as a one hour continuous episode on Fox Sports. It might still be there. I told these three guys that they were missing one of the most enjoyable parts of the SB, namely the commercials. They thought I was kidding. I never convinced them that we get refills and take restroom breaks during play so as to not miss a commercial.