The Molly Malone statute outside The Dubliner pub in downtown Boston.
among the people
The 42 braves downtown Boston in the name of enlightenment and friendship.
The 42
in Boston
THIS WAS A terrible idea.
I should have known as soon as the thought crossed my World Cup-addled mind.
Getting offered a pint of “Black and Tan” was the catalyst to accept defeat.
The premise and execution were simple: go to watch England’s first group game in an Irish pub that has been taken over by Scotland fans.
Gas. Great craic. Think of the content.
How did I not know the reality would be much different?
The social media clips of Scotland fans making Boston their own have created a serious case of FOMO for the Republic of Ireland. It is incurable. They’re packing out Fenway Park, drinking pubs dry and making St Patrick’s Day look like a polite Sunday brunch.
As one staffer at Gillette Stadium told The 42 after sidling over in the minutes after Norway beat Iraq, Scotland’s win over Haiti there was the loudest he had heard the stadium in 25 years. Only Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour came close, apparently.
But the reason why social media clips are so engaging and endearing is that they end after 30 seconds. You can get on with your life and not have to worry about a fella marching around a bar playing bagpipes for the third time in 30 minutes.
“Same shite, different soup,” one of the Irish staffers says.
One hour and 20 minutes before kick-off there is a queue of around 30 people from the front door on Cambridge Street snaking towards Tremonr Street. There is a row of 10 police officers on bikes nearby, across the road from a Dunkin’ Donuts.
“This isn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Ian, a chiropractor from the suburbs says.
“It was way worse trying to get in for Norway-Iraq.”
Ian is the descendant of plantation owners in Jamaica. “I’m not proud of that,” he says.”
His father was raised in Jamaica but moved to London and Manchester. He watched England win the World Cup in 1966. Ian is here to support England and wonders if anyone else will be too.
This is when a father-son duo start to play Flower of Scotland on their bagpipes.
“Yeah, not sure, Ian.”
It only takes seven minutes to get to the top of the queue. The statue of Molly Malone has a tartan bonnet and Scotland scarf.
Surely this a form of statue appropriation?
Within seconds a Scotland fan in a Maradona jersey is serenaded by the packed bar. Some scoff on chicken tenders and chips at the bar.
There is a Norwegian slumped on one of the couches on the terrace. He’s wearing gold sunglasses, but further examination confirms he is dead to the world. He snores and scratches himself. Dreaming of Erling Haaland’s goals in the 4-1 win over Iraq the previous night.
Then he jolts from his slumber.
An aul Scottish lad begins his first march around the bar playing Flower of Scotland on the bagpipes.
In a snug away from the bar, a few England fans from Sheffield find refuge. On the opposite side, through a sea of bodies, is an England fan in a jersey from 2001 beside an Ireland fan in a retro Italia 90 shirt.
He’s the head of Cian Lynch.
“Yeah, he’s my older brother.”
“Really, yeah.”
“No.”
Get me a pint.
Kick off is still 20 minutes away.
“No Scotland no party” is the song that rings around.
Was this what locals in Prague were really seeing?
The aul lad with the bag pipes starts marching around the bar again. He’s ignored by some on this occasion, with a song quickly breaking out about Harry Kane being a window licker.
Yeah, great bunch these Scots. Hearts of gold.
They boo God Save The King and start to sing over it again. I think the aul lad with the bagpipes might be asleep.
A Colombian jumps from his seat and flicks the Vs at the telly to show his solidarity.
Fair enough.
It’s time for some fresh air.
A lone Scotland fans walks through downtown Boston.
A lad in a Kerry GAA jersey – of course – stands the back of the terrace surveying everything. Ronan is 22 and from Long Island. His Dad is from the Kingdom, his mother from Sligo. He was going to wear a Rovers jersey but opted for Kerry.
England take the lead from a retaken Harry Kane penalty and a couple in matching England jerseys with ‘Brits in Boston’ on the back celebrate at a table together. These are my people. Defiant, united, and doused in Sauvage by Dior.
It’s taken in good spirits.
One aul lad in a half-and-half Scotland-Croatia jersey shouts about England being cheats in no particular direction. His mate throws his eyes to the heavens.
I feel like I could be staring in the mirror but not quite sure what reflection would be coming back at me.
Croatia equalise and the place goes wild.
England score again and I ask to take a photo of the Brits in Boston couple. A Scotland fans invites himself in and well, you can see for yourself.
What else did I think would happen?
Maybe this is what I wanted.
I’m at the World Cup but not covering a match today.
Maybe my lingering bitter…
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