UK FANS DAY TRIP TO CLEVELAND
The Pittsburgh Steelers (4-2) at the Cleveland Browns (4-2)
Sunday October 24th, we ventured out earlier than expected for breakfast. This was a day to be savoured. We wanted to enjoy every second of it. The biggest debate had centred on what we were going to wear to the game. With all the warnings we had received, our Steeler jackets remained in the hotel. I had nothing else to wear other than black and gold so Andy lent me his London Thunder team jacket. For the first time during our visit, except for Jame's Kevin Greene shirt, all black and gold disappeared.
I had arranged our tickets and bus ride with Mon Valley travel and we had to meet the bus at the Sports Garden. As we waited for the Gardens to unlock their doors, Steeler fans were being dropped off, together with their cases of bear, bottles of snaps and wine coolers. We discovered they take their drinking seriously.
We picked up our tickets for the game from Lori of Mon Valley, together with a Steeler Road Warrior T-shirt. So all attempts at not wearing anything suggesting whom we were supporting went out the window as we proudly put them on.
Just after midday, the two busloads of Steeler supporters departed in convoy. As we left the city that had found a special place in our hearts, the sun bounced brilliantly off the skyscrapers and the tension inside me began to mount.
I decided to try to sleep so that I didn't have to think about this important game. I knew the Steelers' record of just one win in ten years in Cleveland, yet defeat for our team just didn't enter my mind. I say that I tried to sleep because there were about thirty guys on the bus who were having a serious drinking contest while they attempted in their own style to get into the mood for the game.
Together with the drink, went the singing on the three hour journey. "I've got a feeling, Pittsburgh's going to the Super Bowl," was the most popular. "Whoops, there it is," was another.
Giles and Andy taught the Steelers fans some of their soccer songs and that was well received. On finding out that we were not locals, beer was presented almost as a prize for supporting their team. I kept my head down as this was too important a game to miss because of an alcoholic haze.
Onboard the bus, we had our very own cheerleader, Leroy. A very loud extrovert, Leroy led the singing and the noise. As the countryside rolled by, the beer flowed freely. Eventually, we entered enemy territory and invaded Ohio. The signs of Brownie fans became more evident and the intensity of the banter between the two sets of fans increased. As we approached Cleveland, the traffic had increased enough to reduce our speed to a crawl.
Brownie cars passed us with "F**k Pittsburgh" T-shirts hanging in their windows. The immediate response was "Cleveland sucks," and other abuse regarding having sex with their mothers. Our progress gradually ground to a halt as we neared the stadium and the traffic became heavier and heavier.
Leroy began to hit top form as he whispered, "Vineee," before increasing the decibels by shouting, "we're COMING!" You could imagine the evil Jack Nicolson in "The Shining" saying it.
Cleveland Stadium was situated on the edge of Lake Erie and we had to go through the town into dockland to see the game. The number of Brownies increased sharply as the stadium neared, almost like ants swarming around sugar although their attitude to us wasn't that sweet.
There was a lot of innocuous banter exchanged, even the Cleveland police joined in the fun. When the stadium finally came into sight Leroy offered, "Hey man that ain't no stadium. Who the f*** would play in there?"
As we struggled past the stadium towards the parking lot, the clock was ticking ever faster towards kickoff time. The driver wouldn't let us off the coach until we had parked up because, quite rightly, he wanted us to know where to find it after the game.
That didn't prevent anxious fans from saying it didn't matter, let us off now. Nerves were becoming frayed as we became more agitated about entering the commotion that represented the gateway into the game.
As the bus parked up we had to join the long lines of supporters who were making their way towards the stadium. Leroy jumped off the bus with a large cardboard sign that screamed, "Avoid the Lloyd!" on one side and "Lloyd Have Mercy" on the other.
He strutted up the dusty road, appearing like a crusader on the road to Jerusalem. Only Leroy's expedition was more important to him than any crusade, and his language and taunts betrayed his unchristian nature.
This was Pittsburgh versus Cleveland, with Steeler fans aplenty but Brownies dominating. Leroy took every opportunity to tell the Brownies that they had no chance of winning the game. Some say that football is a matter of life and death. Leroy knew that it was more important than that.
We stopped temporarily as Ed brought a T-shirt that bore the slogan, "If you aren't a Steeler fan you ain't sh**." With less than twenty minutes to kickoff we approached the gates of hell. Our tickets indicated gate B, but it appeared that everyone outside the stadium was making their way to this same gate.
Someone over the tannoy was telling us what we already knew, too many people were trying to get in the same gate so the suggestion was made to use another one. No one moved, except towards gate B.
The crowd was immense, but Leroy stood out. Bold, brash and telling anyone who would listen that! "Vinnie was nothing!" He was a brave Steeler because Pittsburgh supporters were easily outnumbered 10-1. We fought our way into the cauldron called Cleveland Stadium and made our way to our seats.
We found ourselves surrounded by a reasonable contingency of Steeler fans. We were seated in the front row of the second tier, almost at ground level. It was handy for us because there was a crash barrier immediately in front upon which we could put our Steelers UK Supporters Club Union flag.
It was also the main route for the peanut and beer sellers. As we took our seats, the Steeler players were being announced and we held our Union flag up as high as our anticipation was. I'm sure Bill Cowher gave it a quick look, or maybe he was just checking for a quick exit from this bedlam. That place was described as a mad house, but this was far worse - the people inside the stadium were meant to be sane.
The Browns' team were announced to a huge roar of approval.
The game kicked off, the Browns received. The crowd erupted. A woman in the section in front of us stood up obscuring our view. The Steelers supporters behind us asked her to sit down. Did I say asked? They questioned her womanhood, her parentage and her looks while telling her to sit down.
Her large bottom became the focus of abuse as she rose out of her seat every time there was any action. The security people came down to have a word with her, although it appeared to have little effect.
The Browns score, the stadium erupts with the energy of a Cape Kennedy shuttle launch, except the Steelers fans are still on earth. We urge our team on with chants of, "Here we go Steelers, here we go!" Our words appear to fall on death ears as the Browns increase their lead to 14-0.
Leroy enters centre stage as he storms up and down the thoroughfare urging his followers on. He choreographs the chants with his hand held high, much the same as Leonard Bernstein would conduct his orchestra. Leroy was conducting the Steeler fans.
Leroy's timing was just as precise. The noise subsides. The ball is snapped. Eric Green receives a pass for a 55yd gain. The noise around us reaches crescendo level. The Steelers score, but I see a flag come in and question whether the touchdown is good. It stands! We stand and cheer with relief that can be measured on the richter scale.
The Steelers have hit back. I find out much later when watching the tape of the game that the flag had come from the dawg pound. Not even the Browns can stop the Steelers scoring this time. The woman who stands up is the recipient of more abuse. But she doesn't care, her team is still in front.
Just before half time, the Steelers tied the game up and we were now in heaven. The Steelers were the better team so the expected victory is now in sight.
During the interval, Leroy was on his podium when a roving female reporter approached him for an interview. I would have loved to have heard the interview because Leroy couldn't put two words together without using an expletive deletive.
Some guy descended from the crowd and asked us which one was Gordon? When they pointed me out to him, he came and shook my hand and said he had heard me on Myron's show. That was it. He was then gone
The reporter saw our UK flag as she glided across the walkway, then saw the London Thunder badge on my jacket. "Are you from England?" she asked. When I confirmed her guess she proceeded to interview me. "Why did I support the Steelers?" By now, I had been asked that question so many times that I there was no hesitation in my response.
"They play with so much passion and intensity,” I volunteered. "Yes, but there are some great Brown supporters," she hit back. I retorted, "There's no supporters club for the Browns in the UK. The Steelers have a supporters club in the UK because they are number one!"
She departed and I think my unkind words about the Brownies then lay on some editor's floor at a TV station somewhere in Cleveland. Andy, who had been sitting right next to me asked me what I had said. I didn’t understand how he could not have heard what I said, but he hadn't. The noise in the stadium had been that fierce.
Steeler supporters came up to us to have their photos taken with the Union flag. The atmosphere was more than we had expected, the Steeler fans were just marvellous
A cameraman from WTAE turned up and introduced himself. He patiently waited until the Steelers came back onto the field. We were then out of our seats chanting for our team. He took some shots of us for transmission the following night.
We didn’t play up to the camera. Our team came out, the Union flag went up and the vocal cords vibrated while the camera rolled. We gave our team maximum support. You don't go all that way to retain your inhibitions. You let it all hang out.
This was like nothing that any of us had experienced before. We were not about to let our English (or Irish) reserve hold us back.
The cameraman faded away, the Steelers received and Leroy began to strut his funky chicken. As I had taken a few beers onboard (purely to lubricate my failing vocal chords, you understand), a visit to the rest rooms was necessary. As you enter the causeway under the stadium, it's like a little village with food and beer stalls. Television screens are spaced around so you don't miss any of the action.
A woman came into the men's restroom as the queue was smaller. I guess that's a Cleveland thing.
The Browns score while I am out. The noise was now unbelievable. They talk about foundations shaking, but there was enough energy to have lifted the stadium to the skies. Perhaps it did move, nobody would have noticed. The game was too important a spectacle to warrant any diversion. If aliens had landed, what would they have made of it all? Perhaps it would remind them of the battles of old.
The Steelers took the lead with just over seven minutes to go. We were dancing in the isles, our expected dream victory now appeared possible. Then, Eric Metcalf reminded us that it was just a game by returning another kickoff for a score.
The Steelers lose again and we have to drag our tired limbs back to the bus. We were shattered. I went to sleep in the dark and woke about an hour later as the bus moved off.
We had waited in vain for the return of one of Leroy's friend. He didn't make it. We left him in Cleveland to find his own way back the hundred odd miles to Pittsburgh. Leroy observed that his friend had no money on him, so he may still be there in Cleveland now...
The journey back to Pittsburgh was quiet.