The 42 reports from Boston
THIS STORY STARTS with a ‘disruptive weather warning’ in Miami, squeezes in a bus crash in Boston, and ends singing karaoke with a Ghanaian and an Englishman.
So, this is what it’s like to cover your first England match at a World Cup.
The journey begins after The 42 has savoured Cape Verde’s gloriously chaotic 2-2 draw with Uruguay. The Blue Sharks could have won it and secured their place in the last 32. Instead, Pico Lopes and co must finish the job against Saudi Arabia in Houston on Thursday.
They have become the story of this World Cup and at the heart of it all is the Shamrock Rovers captain and League of Ireland stalwart.
On the late-night shuttle back to downtown Miami, with colleagues’ laptop screens adding to the glow of the city’s skyline, it felt slightly surreal that Pico’s story continued to enthral.
Not only that, Lopes – the chairman of the Professional Footballers Association of Ireland – made sure to namecheck Ed McGinty, Adam Brennan, Matt Healy, Dawson Devoy and Kian Leavy as other domestic stars who earned international recognition with Ireland last month. He was keen to make them part of this story.
For The 42, some of the carefree shine was removed with the arrival of a severe weather warning from American Airlines. A storm was set to hit the east coast of America, thunder and lightning strikes threatening an even greater sense of peril than having to navigate your way by Margaritaville outside the security line.
But we persevere.
The first flight to Philadelphia departs on time at 4.50pm. The wait in the airport allows your correspondent to watch Lionel Messi make World Cup history with his 18th and 19th goals.
Watching in the company of dozens of Cape Verde fans making their way home to Boston, its suburbs and nearby Providence, the mood is jubilant.
Then we sit on the tarmac for an hour to allow some of the weather further north to pass.
On arrival in Philadelphia, the France-Iraq game that should have finished is only early into the second half as the storm has forced a two-hour delay.
The final leg of the trip to Boston is delayed by another couple of hours. Groups of fans begin to arrive from the game a few miles away. Some are soaked. Two American friends – one in his Philadelphia Union jersey and another in a France shirt with Zidane 10 on the back from the 1998 World Cup – chat about the thrill of watching Mbappé.
The Union fan informs The 42 that he bolted as soon as the third goal went in so he could make his flight, a flight that is now delayed.
Both plan on cheering on Ghana against England the next day.
The next day comes soon enough, and after two cancelled Ubers at the airport, The 42 makes it to the comfort of a warm bed in our Airbnb by 2am.
That at least allows for a video call home to speak with my wife and kids. The youngest is too preoccupied with her new buggy while the eldest is conked out, snoring his head off on my side of the bed.
Their Mammy is playing a blinder and it’s another reminder of why a trip like this is possible.
The floorboards in this place creak like they’re having an argument with each other but it’s helpful as it signals that the occupant of the room down the hall is awake.
I jump from bed, rummage through my 10kg bag (I will pay full homage to this trusty travel companion after the final) and leg it, holding my clothes, to win the race to the bathroom. This is also where the iron and ironing board are hanging up, so I get to work on making myself as presentable as can be when you’ve been living out of a suitcase and in five cities in two weeks.
We’re at the media shuttle stop just after 11am, in plenty of time for a 4pm kick-off between England and Ghana. The 42 has a seat directly behind the driver. We soon realise he is lost; two wrong turns before leaving downtown do not bode well.
I’m looking down at my phone to check Google Maps when there’s a beep, a screech and a thud. The side of a car has been clipped. Thankfully, no one is hurt.
For an Irishman about to cover an England game at the World Cup for the first time, a harmless bus crash is great colour.
Veteran journalists on the England beat suggest we share an Uber to the Boston Stadium, 35 kilometres south in Foxborough. This may be my first World Cup but it ain’t my first rodeo in these parts, and the experience of covering Norway’s win over Iraq there last week means I know that this suggestion is a non-runner.
Instead, I sort an Uber back to the second media hotel just a few minutes away. Arms across the water and all that. Everyone plays their part.
One colleague wonders if another has broken the England team news while all this has been happening. I say that they have and chuckle that we have broken down. The joke goes down well (I think). Everyone is in good form.
There are contrasting stories of tickets for the game going for as little as $80 (€71) and as much as $11,000 (€10,000) in the hours before kick-off.
The 42 braves the concourse near the designated England end to catch up with an old friend from Lucan who has tickets in a neutral zone nearby. The last time we met was outside Wembley before the Aston Villa-Manchester United League Cup final in 2010.
He moved to the USA soon after and has made himself a life to be proud of just outside New York. He and his wife welcomed their second child into the world 10 weeks ago and this is one of his first passes.
Ideally, he’d be travelling to watch Ireland at this World Cup. For now, we can mutter under our breath while listening to the Ten German Bombers song instead.
No wonder The Dubliner pub in downtown Boston opted to close for the day/night of the game. They put a sign on the door saying their staff needed a break. The resistance to the English in these parts stretches back, in fairness.
My pal’s smiling face and boundless positivity is a reminder of the good times growing up, of friends and family and those who help you become the person you are. But most of all, it’s a reminder of nutmegging him on his 12th birthday when the astro at Celbridge was rented out for an hour and we were all living our best lives.
You know who you are, pal. See you in New York.
There were old faces among the English press pack too. Colleagues you’d be happy to share a pint with and who would cover the Ireland beat in order to harness crucial skills such as divvying the job of transcribing press conference quotes and developing a sense of self awareness.
England’s patient start soon morphs into a hesitant one. By the end, they are lucky not to concede a late penalty. Thomas Tuchel puts a positive spin on an unconvincing performance that hints at bigger issues down the line. Jude Bellingham says it’s important for the players and media to stay positive.
The 42 asks Brentford midfielder Jordan Henderson if he has anything to say about Damien Duff joining Keith Andrews’ coaching staff. ‘Sorry, I’m late for the bus.’
Hope there’s a better driver than the one I had earlier, pal.
Bellingham reappears to answer questions in Spanish. A content creator has stood at the same spot for an hour with his phone on offering a fist bump to every England player that walks by.
Declan Rice (booooooo) walks from the dressing room like a beaten down cowboy who wouldn’t make an extra on Yellowstone, his left calf was heavily strapped.
Marcus Rashford ignores everyone and has earphones in. The 42 jokingly asks if he has anything to say to the people of Ireland. A colleague makes a very fair point that I should have asked on behalf of the people of Larne. The World Cup learnings continue.
So does the wait. Almost 90 minutes after full time, it’s safe to say I am the only one waiting for Ghana’s third-choice goalkeeper.
I have long been convinced that every journalism module in college should have a class each day where the lecturer’s job is to not turn up. The students never know which class it will be, but anyone who cannot wait and decides to bail should instantly be failed.
This job is about waiting. It’s about feeling important but looking absolutely dispensable.
Joey Anang eventually appears. The 42 has their follow-up. St Patrick’s Athletic will also soon have their cash from Fifa’s compensation fund – approximately €10,000 per day of Anang’s involvement in the tournament – as Ghana’s stay is prolonged until the round of 32 at least.
The trip back to Boston is smooth. A walk by the Emerson Colonial Theatre on the fringes of Boston Common brings back lovely memories of attending the venue a few years back for the Neil Diamond musical. A Beautiful Noise.
Some England fans nearby join in a beautiful rendition of Wonderwall to remind us most of them are just like us.
The World Cup buzz makes me close my eyes and sing like a sap.
Money talks, but it don’t sing and dance and it don’t walk. As long as I can have you here with me, I’d much rather be Forever in Blue Jeans babe…
My talents are spotted. Two friends (Bilali from Ghana, and an Englishman whose name I cannot recall) who went to college here and made sure to go to the game stop me.
‘We’re going for Chinese food and then to karaoke. Join us!!’
So I did.
Written by David Sneyd and originally published on The 42 whose award-winning team produces original content that you won’t find anywhere else: on GAA, League of Ireland, women’s sport and boxing, as well as our game-changing rugby coverage, all with an Irish eye. Subscribe here.