Off on work sabbatical to New York for a number of months, Lou Boyd (@LordLouCan) pens the first in a series of tales of the big apple … where he goes in a much needed search of football … sorry soccer …. yankee stylee.
They say you can’t spell NY Cosmos without NYC but to find the Cosmos you have to venture not that deeply into Long Island – the Irish & Italian white flight zone east of the city. A half hour train from under Madison Square Gardens, the home of the Nicks seems an odd route to see another of the city teams. It is a lot like Brentford moving to…well Woking. But instead of the Noades Mono-rail from the station, it is a shuttle bus – or to be precise a shuttle school bus to the ground, free for all.
Through the sort of white picket fence neighbourhood you tend to see in the Halloween films, we reach one of those large American University grounds and it looks more like an open-top Dean Court or Kassam Stadium – 3 stands & an executive box and gym building looming behind one goal.
As we drift in, everyone is in ones or twos and talking about which of the dozen or so possible routes they took to get to the ground. I poked my head in to a bar in Manhattan & one in Long Island on-route to find only one or two fans quietly watching Robbie Keane’s last game against Eire’s historical foe and menace – Oman.
Outside the ground was the a first for me. A tailgate party in a car park. A BBQ set up and 20 fans drinking from bottles of whiskey and rum before entering the ground. I was assured by two Cosmos fans that this was something they picked up in Spain tiring of the low/no alcohol trick played in fans by La Liga and UEFA. I suppose it proves the theory that fans will always find a way to drink on their terms as much as any club’s terms.
‘I am enthusiastically brought over to a group of home fans and introduced with enthusiasm as ‘This is Lou from England, he’s a hardcore Brentwood fan!’ I laugh, cry & die inside all at once.
In the ground, there’s a vibe that resembled a school fete crossed with a somber remembrance event. Hunter Freeman, an original member of the squad from the new version Cosmos in 2013, and their captain has just been sold to David Beckham supported Miami FC despite Cosmos being top of the league and ten places above Miami. Think Harlee Dean off to Bristol City for £500k.
In the ground, cheerleaders warm up as hotdogs and pretzels are dished out in a concrete beer garden with more in common with The Westway than Kew houses. It was the only place to drink with the only type of beer on sale – a decent local beer at a decent price. The view of the pitch from the beer garden, ten feet away, is great but soon looks like a breeding pen for polite men in chinos and baseball caps furiously debating the owners transfer policy. I feel oddly at home, or near home. Think of a steroid-addled version of the Beveree.
I head around the ground to ultras’ section behind the goal and find myself winning bronze – only the third person in there. I know it’s school holidays, midweek and a heatwave … but this makes Bedfont Eagles look like the San Siro.
Then with 2 minutes to kick off a flurry as dozens of men women and children appear, dropping flags behind goals and dishing out ticker tape. A grizzled policeman slams open a door under the stand and a group of Hispanic teens unload a jeep of drums and trumpets at speed. As the national anthem pipes up the ant colony has achieved it’s aim. You could call this rent-an-atmosphere or building a home end by numbers but as the game kicks off the band begins to play.
The fans, between 50-100 of them, all have the feel and sound of the Holmsdale end at Palace, FCUM or the hipster end at Dulwich Hamlet. But as each song flips from English pop song based football anthem (I just can’t get enough etc) to grand Spanish mariachi enunciation, I’m impressed at the collective effort the group give. People clearly of Irish heritage sing pitch perfectly in Spanish and Hispanic fans sing ‘we all dream of a team of…’ with guttural Anglo accents.
Whether this is something we would ever want, have or achieve I am unsure of. Whilst the atmosphere inside the ground away from this – a lively league two game at best – jars and seems to confirm for me that for most of the crowd, this is a couple of hours out in the evening and not the crucial top-of-the-table clash that could demand an afternoon session in the Globe or a half-day from work.
Midweek under lights is more Checkatrade Trophy than FA Cup here.
The game is played on a 4g pitch – the grandchild of the messes QPR and Luton played on in the 80s. I wonder after all our pitch woes whether this could catch on in Hounslow. Maybe we could whip up the one at the academy and bung it in the back of a removal van.
The game is the immediate level below the MLS division where Brentford legend Bradley Wright-Phillips has been running the show. I bring up Mike Grella who is fondly & sympathetically remembered as a local lad who got released by the Cosmos as a youth.
It plays out like a top-of-the-table league one clash with two teams with great touches eager to keep the ball down and use the wings. There are loads of offsides and every time the ball goes into the air someone concedes a stupid foul – including a penalty as a result of the defender trying to get his head to the ball through the spine of the striker who’d got in behind. I put this to the home fans as a possible hang-over of growing up being taught to either catch a ball (baseball, basketball) or smash an opponent with the ball (hockey, NFL) but it was tepidly received and the debate rages on.
The game ended 3-0 to the Cosmos with much orchestrated singing as a result. One penalty expertly scored another – a homage to Baggio in LA. One penalty foul missed by the many of the ultra’s who were discussing which song to move onto next and an away keeper in full tracksuit bottoms on a 29 degree night garnering no sympathy from me. All in all a great result, I watched the second half from the unique privilege of the beer garden talking to Hispanic Cosmos fans who told me their take on amusing European run-ins with Liverpool fans.
At half-time I was lucky to have an audience with some of the clubs’ employees – who pointed out the 6 away fans in attendance – and we shared tales of being a smaller club in a world city, nestled into our respective second tiers. Whilst they have a great history comparable only to the Sam Saunders flirts – the Tampa Bay Rowdies – the NASL can’t gain access to MLS unless expansion or relegation is voted for.
Ironically enough, it might be Beckham’s new boy’s Miami who may prove too cool to turn down & maybe Cosmos as champions could also get in. The club are also desperate to get back into the City despite currently playing at a traditional home ground from yesteryear. The commuter belt back waters of Long Island offer as much support for The Cosmos as much as the commuter backwaters of Surrey & Berkshire offer the Bees.
On a wonderfully familiar train journey home over beers and whiskey, we talk Jemal Johnston at the Cosmos and late of the franchise. They make a comparison to the immediate uprising of NYFC who for them are the MK Dons of the US.
There seems a real interest by both fans and club to keep it competitive and solvent. To develop a unique and truer identity amidst a pile of bigger rivals. To manage a stadium move that makes the club fans friendlier not distant. And an owner balancing a financial head with a fan’s heart.
All so familiar and as I look out the train window, for a moment I almost mistake the Empire State Building for Kew Steam museum.
Lou Boyd
@LordLouCan
