Gloucester, Crunch! Oooh! and Aaah!

Now, I am not the biggest (Am) football fan in the world. In fact, let's say I go out to the sports bar to watch football for an excuse to go out. I mean, I understand the game and enjoy it, but I'm not a fanatic and don't waste the capacity to memorize statistics or records or any of that. So when Ihling (Chris) said his uncle could get us into a rugby match in Gloucester, I was less than impressed. And 39 quid? 60 dollars? But I psyched myself up, read up on it. Chris helped, he got me excited about the game when we would see the matches on the tv at the various pubs in Cheltenham. Technically very interesting. OK, I think I'll enjoy this. I purchased the tickets, as close as possible to where Chris and his uncle-in-law would be seated. The kicker was, when we were out at the bar/dance club M-bargo in Cheltenham and these young dudes saw Chris's Gloucester Rugby regalia and commented about how cool and old-school it was and how much energy there was at the Gloucester games and the tradition there of playing and hooting and hollering... Got me going. I like team and community spirit. Yee-haw! I was going to a rugby match!

The day came. 13 December 2008. We were only moderately hung over, so we arrived at Chris's uncle and aunt in-law's house around 12, right on time, after some moderate turning about in Gloucester, roads that should have connected and didn't, that sort of thing. His aunt had chili on the burner, some cheese and bread, wonderful smelling home, and absolutely the nicest welcoming smile I had seen in a very long time. His uncle was brilliant, warm, funny, and a spry old dude, looking forward to the match, and also looking forward to showing off his home of 35 years. We had a pleasant lunch and snack, then marched out to the road to catch the Number-9 to City-Centre, Gloucester. Oh boy, a double-decker bus! I scampered up to the top floor and enjoyed the hell out of the ride. Never mind that it could have been through any suburban New Jersey or Long Island 'burg. I was in a double-decker, on the top!

We got to the main arcade of Gloucester. I'm pleased to report that it wasn't all department stores and chain restaurants, I saw a few unique local establishments peeking out, forlornly, amidst the Gaps and Starbucks. We wound around and around, passing likely sporting goods stores (I had decided to deck myself in Gloh-stah gear) until we got to just the right one. I picked up a jersey and cap, Chris made a few purchases, and off we went for our pre-match pint. I can't remember the name of the pub we went to, but I got a Guinness Red there (as did Chris) - that I do remember, because I have the glass! Guinness Red is a lovely amber beer, we can't get it in the US (yet). Smooth, light, but still proof against that chill in the air. Across the street was the rugby field. We entered and found our seats, through the narrow stadium rows, onto cheap folding chairs, and I partook in the borrowed excitement of the crowd's anticipation to see their heroes defeat the Evil Italians (Calvisano was the opponent). As if there was any doubt.

The match started and proceeded apace. I remember that Calvisano was ahead at first, mostly because Glos was lagging a bit, but the crowd (especially the crazy b*stards in the SHED section) chanted "Glawwwwwww-staaaaah" over and over, jeering at bad plays, cheering at the good ones. Action and ball motion, chaos and strategy. What a game! Glos was ahead by the half, significantly. I took a 'facilities' break, then wormed my way back to my seat to watch the thrashing continue. Crunch! Meat-on-meat sounds, crowds yelling and chanting. The running clock through the halves made the match move much faster than it ought to have. 45 minute periods whizzed by. Final score: 48-5, Glos. Yeah. A rout.

After the match, it was getting dark, we were enticed to visit the Gloucester Cathedral. It turns out that the choir was practicing for their Christmas Pageant, so we couldn't take pictures in the main hall. I got a bunch of memorial stones older than my country on film, leaded glass panes and carvings in the ceiling that would have been perfect for the old Dark Shadows show, and the eerie Gothic silhouette of the cathedral at night. Awesome experience. The weight of history, endless praises and sorrows, and old bones hit me hard in that place. I was disappointed that we couldn't go see the catacombs, but it was on a late weekend night. I may get back there to check that out some day.

We walked back through the City Centre to get to the Number 9 terminus, and we were shown two or three Tudory-Victorian 'secret' enclaves off the main arcade that still *still* held the old inns and pubs that had been there 100 or more years. Gloucester had built their mall around these venerable institutions, with their courtyards and friendly entries. Sparkling eyes beckoned us to tarry and have a pint, but it was getting late. We made it back to the house and tea and cookies ('biscuits') were ready for us. What a wonderful family, and how hospitable! Brilliant in the true sense. I felt like my family had taken me for 'an outing' and 12 years old. I had a ball cap, a jersey (and a pint glass, secreted away :-) ).

The drive back was a great come-down. We jabbered about the match and the courtyards and the cold and the cathedral. Made the 10 minute drive pass instantly. Good companionship...

Great adventure, and cheers to Chris Ihling for his marvelous idea. Thanks, my friend.

Album: Facebook "Gloucester Rugby"

Album: Facebook "Gloucester Cathedral"

[GJF: Written 22 January 2009]