Ox Fall Down

I'm including some letters from friends and possibly a few essays. The language might be rough, including the f-word, so you've been warned. They're unrelated to my stomach. Just notes I love. The first is from Justin after witnessing the final sporting event ever played at Wembley, England's old national stadium.

I've deleted a few sentences at the beginning and end which were unrelated to soccer. The rest is unchanged.

Dog,

Hi. Very sad I will miss you in Boston in 2 weeks. London is getting cold
and wet - both Subitha and I have come down with the early flu. My
vaccination, scheduled for today, is coming a bit late.

I did get to Wembley last weekend. Probably one of the most religious
experiences of my life. I had the shivers running through the entire match.
We arrived via the Tube about 90 minutes before the game. Already the Tube
was filled with supporters draped in English flags, painted red and white,
and wearing the red and white coal miner's hats. I felt like I was going
into the Earth on a shaft elevator with the faithful who were willing to
sacrifice all for their country. The drinking had begun already, perhaps
the previous evening. And the songs... "We.... love.... England... Yes
we do, We love England.... Fuck the Pope and the IRA..." On and on and
on. When we arrived at the stadium the security was simply overwhelming. I
felt like I was an Orangeman walking down Garvahy Road. Phalanxes of riot
police two to three deep in the station and then the Cavalry about 500
strong on the road from the station to the Twin Towers of Wembley. We made
our way down Champions Row through the driving rain to the stadium - like
gladiators going to the Colloseum. Outside along an alley we slipped into a
basement space that was filled with a makeshift bar and a couple hundred
supporters slugging down Tetleys and Guinnesses. After two or three warm
ones we entered the stadium and made our way to Row 8 Section K - just south
of midfield. So close I could hear Beckham's Essex accent. The massive
flags and songs were incessant prior to the match. Horns blaring.
Announcer, "England versus Gerrrmany for the last match ever at Wembley....
Let's lift the boys...." During the national anthems the English fans
yelling at the top of their lungs "Sig Heil." And during God Save the
Queen, the supporters arm in arm swaying back and forth like a late night at
the frat house. The spirit carried through at least the first half, despite
a 14 minute goal from the Germans off a quick set piece 30 yards out. A
clear mistake by the English defence. But, throughout the match, the
English style simply failed to deliver. Long balls through to Owen and Cole
who were smothered by multiple marking defenders. English midfield simply
not winning balls against the swarming Germans. Slow English backs not able
to keep pace with overlapping runs. It was really quite sad to see the
unbelievable enthusiasm and patriotism smothered through the course of the
match. And as time went on, the English play became unbelievably violent -
very flagrant fouls when there was no chance of tackling the ball, studs on
the knees, etc. I witnessed the fall of the empire re-enacted in 90
minutes. The game ended bitterly with fans jeering Keegan and Beckham as he
wobbled off with a knee injury. Amazing experience, very sad result for the
lads and their followers.