Last weekend, me and a few pals went to watch the LA Rams vs New York Giants game at Twickenham. We drank beers and ate hot dogs and managed to stand on the sidelines during the national anthems. We even got to see Craig David play before the game. It was great.
Because we spent so much time visiting the concession stands, it felt like we missed a lot of the game. But that's the beauty of American Football right there; you can have time to socialise at the bar and still catch plenty of the action. For one thing, we saw Giants safety Landon Collins spectacularly return an interception - one of those moments of sporting prowess that leaves your jaw rooted to the floor.
The game finished 17-10 to the Giants. After it was over, we noticed that our press credentials gave us access to the Giants locker room. For some reason, we all thought 'locker room access' was some sort of euphemism. It is not. You really just go into the locker room and there, right in front of you, are 50 or so professional athletes in various states of undress, being gawked at by various journalists, PRs and - I hope, at least - a few jokers who managed to blag their way in for the banter.
Here I am with Rampage, the LA mascot.
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After I composed myself amongst this sea of private parts, I noticed a trio of Giants players who weren't being quizzed by reporters. I knew they were O-Linemen because they were all enormous. They were also all wearing towels. So I asked them if normies in the locker room was a one-off thing for the London game. (By the way they laughed super hard when I said the whole thing was "bizarre" and then went "uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhmmmmmmm" before saying anything, which was, in many ways, the greatest thing to ever happen to me.)
"It doesn't matter if it's home or away, it's every game."
Amidst the confusion, I forgot to ask for their names, but I did clock the numbers on the locker so I could look them up later. The guys I spoke to were Bobby Hart, Justin Pugh and Weston Richburg. I asked if reporters also quizzed them in the locker room when they were at college.
"No, you had to go to the podium." What colleges did you guys go to? "I went to Florida State," (FSU) Hart told me. "Do you know where it is?" And so began the tried and true tradition of relentless banter between the English and the Yanks about how we don't know stuff about each other.
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Is it Fort Lauderdale, I said. "No Tallahassee - but I'm from Fort Lauderdale. Do you know where Colorado State is? That's where Weston went."
An insight into the locker room...
I told him I couldn't name the city but that I 'know where Colorado is', which doesn't really mean anything.
"He says he 'knows where Colorado is!' Have you heard of Colorado State?"
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I have.
"What's their mascot?"
I dunno. A goat?
"You said a goat?! Close! It's a ram. What's Florida State's mascot?"
Bobby Hart (l) with Odell Beckham. Credit: PA Images
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Following further quizzing on various college mascots and my apparent failure to know the answer, they all started laughing and roasting me so hard. God, it was embarrassing. I finally get to meet a bunch of pro-football players and they start ripping on me in less than two minutes. I felt like Finch in American Pie, or the chick with all the dandruff in The Breakfast Club.
Now that we had all seemingly become such good pals and the LOLs were flowing freely, Bobby Hart decided to try out his best English accent on me. "Can you spot me a cup of tea?"
Despite being a phrase no one has ever said, his accent wasn't bad, if a little theatrical.
"Does my accent sound good?"
"'Can you spot meh a cup o' teh?'" I repeated, adding "you sound like a Victorian orphan. Please sir can I have some more?" At this point the tables had turned. I'd countered their roast with a re-roast of my own. No longer was I some random dude who showed up to watch them get changed, but a purveyor of an inimitable style of British banter; something these young athletes had never experienced in their Tallahasees and Colorados.
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But the time for banter had to stop eventually, so I figured I'd hit Weston with the hard hitting Qs.
What do you guys eat for breakfast?
"What do we eat for breakfast? Just your standards, like eggs, sausage."
When you're in the NFL do you ever drink alcohol? Do you have like clauses in your contract where you can't drink?
"No, there's no such thing."
You ever shown up to a game hungover?
"Noooo. I don't think anybody does that. I mean, it's a job..."
Weston Richburg is one big lad. Credit: PA Images
I told him that, in the past, I have regularly shown up to jobs hungover, but I did concede that I am probably way less talented than he is. He nodded politely.
For some reason, American athletes always seem to be on another level to their British counterparts - a bit otherworldly, almost unattainably elite. They don't go on holiday to Maga. They don't play in places like Stoke. You can't imagine Odell Beckham having a cheeky ciggie on a night out.
So at the very least, my chat with Weston, Bobby and Justin showed me that even pro athletes are, for the most part, just regular dudes. Except a lot richer and they could probably rip your arms off.
Words by: Jack Blocker
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