Tag: Fenway Sports Group

adventures in british football: so many prem football questions

I’ve got questions. Lots of ‘em. Stupid questions, pointed questions, legit questions. Let’s start with the ones that’ve been really nagging me.

International breaks

Why are there so many breaks in the Premier League’s season? I’d never even heard of such a thing until the end of the last Liverpool game against Aston Villa, when announcers mentioned that the next game would occur AFTER the international break.

The international … what?

I did a round of internet sleuthing and learned that the English Premier League has loads of players who participate in the Euro Cup for their home countries’ teams, as well as for the Asia Cup and the Africa Cup of Nations, according to Metro UK. So the Prem accommodates them — most of them anyway — with breaks. Several of them, as outlined by the Metro:

So this led to my having to read up about the 2024 Euro Cup, for which national teams must endure months of qualifying rounds, similar to the World Cup. There are qualifying matches in September, October, and November before the semi-finals in March 2024 and finals in June and July.

I struggled to find a comparable situation in American professional sports. There are pauses, for example, for the World Cup in American pro soccer, but that’s only every four years, and, I believe their schedule isn’t affected by the World Cup, at least it wasn’t last year. With Major League Baseball, there’s a midseason break for the All-Star game and associated festivities; the World Baseball Classic takes place during MLB’s spring training so there’s no need for a league-wide break. One American professional sports league, the National Hockey League, refused to take a break from play before the 2022 winter Olympic games. The NBA similarly opted to keep the regular schedule going during the rescheduled 2021 summer Olympics, so the concept of multiple “international breaks” proved befuddling to this American fan.

What do the breaks mean for the Liverpool team, my chosen PL club? According to the team website, these players are participating in qualifiers for international teams:

  • Alexis MacAllister — Argentina
  • Alisson Becker — Bolivia
  • Luis Diaz — Colombia
  • Kostas Tsimikas — Greece 
  • Dominik Szoboszlai — Hungary
  • Caoimhin Kelleher — Ireland 
  • Cody Gakpo and VVD — Netherlands 
  • Diogo Jota — Portugal
  • Andy Robertson — Scotland
  • Darwin Nunez — Uruguay

“Trent Alexander-Arnold has withdrawn from England’s squad … due to injury,” according to Liverpool. Mo Salah is slated to play with Egypt in the Africa Cup qualifiers, the Reds’ site said, adding that Wataru Endo will join the Japanese team to play friendlies. But because the bulk of the Africa Cup runs from January through February — during which the Prem will only take a pause from Jan. 14-30 — that means if a player’s national team does well, that player could miss one or two Prem games, according to TalkSport.com. For Salah, the website reported he could miss Liverpool’s matches against Chelsea and Arsenal if Egypt’s national team is still alive in the Africa Cup’s later rounds.

Plural or singular?

Seeing that I’m a word nerd, it’s been bugging me to hear people refer to football teams’ host cities in the plural format. For example, when I discuss the Boston Red Sox, I say, “Boston is miserable this year.” I use a singular verb, “is.” Boston is one city. There is one baseball team represented by the name “Boston” in that sentence. However, when people discuss the Liverpool Football Club, I’ve noticed they say things like, “Liverpool are doing well so far.” The word “are” is generally used when describing the actions of more than one entity. The Liverpool Football Club is a singular organization.

Listening to people say, “Liverpool are winning,” is cramping my brain. It was during one such brain cramp when I wound up in a big argument with Chelsea-fan Casey about this very subject. He pointed out that I refer to the “Red Sox” in the plural form. (“The Red Sox are losing.”) I replied by saying using the word “are” makes sense when most American sports’ teams nicknames are plural, as in, more than one sock, more than one Yankee, more than one Patriot, etc. But when you’re talking about Liverpool or Chelsea, you’re only talking about one team. We went round and round for a while until my head ached and I wound up fleeing the room. When I took to the internet again, I discovered a site that proved football-mad Casey correct:

“In the Premier League, all football teams are singular in form (Arsenal, Manchester Utd, Chelsea),” said the website Premier Skills, “but, in British English, we use a plural form when we are referring to the football team and their actions. For example: ‘Arsenal are on the attack. Chelsea have won again.’”

Okay, Casey, you were right. Again. At least when it comes to how the English refer to their football clubs.

Names on jerseys (okay, they’re called ‘kits’ in the UK, and football cleats are called ‘boots’ but the spikes at the bottom are called ‘studs’ in England, I think … )

I was super confused a few weeks ago after Darwin Nunez came off the bench and scored Liverpool’s only two goals to defeat Newcastle. Why? Because his jersey has the name “Darwin” on the back. So when commentators started going on about “Nunez,” I was thinking, Who’s Nunez? Darwin is the one who scored. (I was similarly thrown when everyone was referring to the goalkeeper, Alisson Becker, as “Alisson,” but at least the back of his jersey says, “A. Becker.”)

Later, I learned that I was thinking like an American sports fan. In the US, players’ surnames are on the backs of their jerseys, not their first names or their nicknames. Red Sox legend David “Big Papi” Ortiz had “Ortiz” on the back of his jersey, not “Big Papi” or “David.”

Research informed me that if the Premier League gives its okay, players can put their first names or nicknames on their shirts. So when you mix in first names, nicknames, and surnames, that can lead to a lot of confusion to those new to the sport.

According to the Daily Mirror, the Prem’s rules about names on jerseys was “relaxed” in 2000. “Shirts should feature the player’s last name or such other name as approved in writing by the Premier League Board,” the Mirror reported. “These can be nicknames adopted from abroad which are more likely to be accepted if featured in other leagues.” 

Well, okay then. Another bizarre rule for this Yank to wrap her head around, along with messed-up verb tenses and more breaks than an American member of Congress. Onto Saturday’s match.

Image credits: Metro UK, Liverpool FC’s website, and Liverpool FC’s Twitter feed.

adventures in british football: apparently, i’ll never walk alone

Scene: A pub in Amherst, Mass. in February 2023.

Participants: My then-24-year-old grad student son, my then-21-year-old undergrad son, my spouse, and me (if you can call me a participant).

Subject: Whether a bicycle kick by a Southampton football club player to the head of Chelsea’s football club’s captain warranted a red or yellow card.

For the entirety of our lunch before we headed to campus to see the University of Massachusetts’ men’s hockey game, I could not work my way into the conversation, not during drinks, not during appetizers, not during the main meal, not even during dessert. I couldn’t get the three male members of my family to change the subject to something in which I was conversant, like U.S. politics or the spy balloon that’d been flying over the U.S. or pop culture. Since I couldn’t take part in their animated debate because I had nothing to contribute, I pulled out my phone and began taking notes. Some of the gems they uttered:

What kind of crack are you on?

You’re asking the wrong questions!

You can usually, visually gauge intent!

Just because it’s subjective, doesn’t mean it’s crap.

That’s one of your dumbest takes ever.

The old fashioned I rapidly drained while chronicling their conversation didn’t chill me out nearly enough to cope with, what I described as, “this all-encompassing conversation where all the oxygen goes to British, fucking, soccer.”

By the end of the meal I reached a decision: In order to engage with them, I need to join them. I need to become the last member of my family of five to select a Premier League team and rabidly root for it, because what is British soccer without the rabidness of its fans? My daughter, like her twin brother, is a Liverpool fan. My younger son is a Chelsea fan. My husband tries (rather unsuccessfully) to be the human equivalent of Switzerland, someone who claims to be fans of both teams, but his poker face isn’t as good as he thinks it is.

Personally, I never cared much about soccer – hereafter known called football – aside from watching the U.S. Women’s National Team in World Cup or Olympic matches. A lifelong Boston Red Sox fan who weathered many losing years (1986 … just … no) before the gloriously historic 2004 season which snapped an 86-year losing streak, I’ve also enthusiastically followed my alma mater’s teams (specifically University of Massachusetts hoops and hockey). A fair-weather Celtics fan, I don’t really follow the Boston Bruins or the New England Patriots, although if friends and family gather to watch a big game, I’ll watch with them. 

But European football … I’ve never really understood why my family is so enthralled with it and why my late-sleeping sons willingly rise early ON WEEKENDS to watch matches. However, following that aggravating lunch at Johnny’s Tavern in February, I decided I need to figure out why.

I announced to my football-mad relatives that I’d follow the U.K. Premier League when it starts its season in mid-August. I then asked for input on which team I should follow – I didn’t want to choose between my kids’ favorites – adding that I was looking for a club with history, heart, authentic fan passion, and a bit of an underdog vibe. I wanted to ally with folks similar to loyal Red Sox fans. For example, if I hadn’t been born a Red Sox fan, I’d likely follow the Chicago Cubs because I admire their grit and undying loyalty to their club even after enduring 108 long years before they won the World Series in 2016.

Casey, the Chelsea fan, suggested I root for Aston Villa, a 149-year-old football team from Birmingham because he said the club represents the qualities I named: history, passion, and an upward trajectory in the league.

Jonah, my Liverpool-loving son, argued for Newcastle United because he said they’re moving up in the Premier League.

Abbey, my Liverpool-loving daughter, and Anthony, her Manchester United-loving boyfriend, argued for Brighton because they said Brighton is “kind of an up-and-coming team” and “they’re decently placed in the league and unlikely to be relegated … plus, nobody really hates them that much.” 

Although they did offer suggestions, Abbey and Jonah made me rethink my approach of selecting a Premier League team out of thin air in order to try to understand the undeniable gravitational pull of British football fandom.

Why, they asked, didn’t I just root for Liverpool, which is owned the Fenway Sports Group, named after Fenway Park, the home of the Boston Red Sox? Liverpool’s connection to the Sox is, afterall, how they became Reds fans in the first place. I didn’t have a good response other than to repeat the mantra that I was hesitant to pick favorites between my children.

I did some research and had a lot of conversations about the Premier League. What I ultimately realized is that I couldn’t artificially muster enthusiasm for a club which, on paper, might seem like as if it meets my criteria. I wasn’t feeling it for any of the teams they suggested, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned from watching my family go football crazy, it’s that emotional connection is paramount. I couldn’t deny the pull of the name “Fenway,” in spite of the current, seriously lackluster Boston Red Sox season. After thinking about all these factors, as well as watching videos of Liverpool fans singing — as if they are one, thoroughly off-key body — the club’s unofficial theme song, “You’ll Never Walk Alone,” I couldn’t help but sense some “Sweet Caroline” kindred-spirit magic.

Starting on the morning of Sunday, August 13, when Liverpool faces off against Chelsea at 11:30 a.m. Boston time, I’ll be rooting for the Reds. Part of me will feel as though I’ve chosen Abbey and Jonah over Casey, however, I hope Casey will be pacified by my promise to root for the Blues whenever they’re playing any other club other than Liverpool (which Jonah says is indicative of the fact that I won’t be a “true” Liverpool fan … let the shit-talking begin).

My football learning curve will be steep. I’ll likely mess up the lingo and offer myriad bone-headed takes, but that’s what happens when you start something new. Just know that I’m drawn to the passion that formed an infuriatingly impermeable wall of verbiage at that lunch table in late winter, and I want to be part of the conversation.