The NFL At Wembley

If you were to ask me what I make of the idea of taking a Premier League or a Super League game to a country 3,000 miles away you would be unlikely to meet with a favourable response. I nearly blew a kidney out a couple of years ago when I first heard of the Premier League's dastardly plot to shoe-horn a 39th league game into the season's schedule. It was nothing more than a cynical, money-making ploy on the part of the Premier League which had nothing to do with the best interests of the sport.

In 2007 the NFL decided it would take one regular season game to Wembley Stadium, something which has become an annual event ever since. This means that one unfortunate NFL team must sacrifice a home game and travel all the way to London instead. This is nothing more than a cynical, money-making ploy on the part of the NFL which has nothing to do with the best interests of the sport. But I went along anyway. I'm nothing if not a hypocrite.

And not for the first time. Emma and I were there when the New England Patriots beat the Tampa Bay Buccaneers last year, and since this year it was the turn of 'my team', the San Francisco 49ers, how could I resist? I couldn't. I didn't really try. The 49ers took on the Denver Broncos beneath the awkward-looking arch, and I'll be damned if I didn't have a great time! For the most part.

Niner Noise

We entered the stadium around an hour before kick-off and found ourselves treated to what the NFL deems to be adequate pre-match entertainment. First there was Niner Noise, a group of drummers clad in 49ers replica shirts all with the number 49 on front and back. Are you getting the theme here?

'The NFL at Wembley is brought to you in association with the number 49' they might have said had they adopted the Sesame Street approach. Yet these boys couldn't just drum, but they could strut aswell. A dizzying array of struts accompanied each drum riff while at times the drummers changed places in time to the beat. It all left you feeling like you'd just seen the magician put the ball under the cup but you couldn't for the life of you remember which cup it was under after all that movement. Terrific fun really.

My Chemical Romance

I recognise that this is uncool on a gargantuan scale, but I have to tell you I didn't get much from the experience of seeing My Chemical Romance perform at the pre-game show. The singer couldn't sing a note that I could actually recognise and instead seemed to just be shouting as loud as possible. I couldn't really tell you what he was shouting about but it meant a lot to him. His face was contorted with passion as he belted out his three four-minute warnings. He had the kind of deep red hair that looks sexy on a girl but on a man looks like he has had some sort of dreadful accident. Between them, My Chemical Romance looked like the sort of band who started out wanting to be like Green Day before realising they have less talent and deciding instead to just shout about the injustice of it all.

Please, cool people of Britain, do tell me if you think I might have missed the point........

Formalities

Though we were in England we still had to indulge the Americans their anthem. As everyone knows, it is routinely butchered by soul and country stars just desperate to set a new record for holding the longest note in the most inappropriate place, but Michelle Williams fell way short of the mark. The former Destiny's Child singer can currently be seen foxtrotting with Brendan Cole on Strictly Come Dancing and so was obviously in something of a hurry to get back to rehearsals. Her rendition of the Star Spangled Banner was mercifully short, and was followed by Jeff Beck playing God Save The Queen on electric guitar. If he was trying to emulate Brian May's Palace roof-top antics of Live 8 in 2005 he failed, though to be fair playing the rotten dirge on electric guitar does at least prevent the listener from falling asleep.

Musical pleasantries out of the way it was time to invite the random celebrities, or honorary captains as they are known, on to the field for the coin toss. Broncos Hall of Famer John Elway was joined by double European Champion athlete Mo Farrah, while 49ers' legendary Jerry Rice had the golden company of multiple Sports Personality of the Year Award nominee Ben Ainsley. He's a sailor, who later admitted on television to knowing nothing about American Footballer. What? Ask Jerry Rice what he knows about sailing.

The Game

I've got to be honest with you, the first half of the game was terrible. It can best be described as a puntathon as time after time both teams failed to move the ball and ended up having to boot it away to limit the territorial damage. At half-time the 49ers led by a score of 3-0, the only points coming on a field goal.

In the second half things livened up considerably, as the previously icompetent quarterbacks began to find their marks. Denver scored the first touchdown but soon after 49ers passer Troy Smith clicked into gear, marching his team down the field for Frank Gore's game-tying score and then throwing to Michael Crabtree to give San Francisco a comfortable lead. Denver fans were already heading for the exits when their side threatened a comeback with a late score, but the failed extra point rather summed up their evening, which ended for good when Kyle Orton threw an interception with under a minute left, icing a 24-16 win for the Niners.

I've just read that paragraph back and realised that you may not understand a word of it. That's just tough I'm afraid. There simply isn't space and time enough to explain the rules of American Football to people who don't know who Nicky Horne is.

Post-Game

Brilliantly we had managed to book a hotel situated within walking distance of the stadium so it was not long before we were back at the bar. Not so brilliant was the price of it but I don't want to harp on about money when there are kilts to be discussed. As we entered the bar we ordered a bottle of red (I drink wine when I'm out with Emma sometimes. Does that make me any less of a man? Could I be any less of a man?). We'd just poured the first glass when four young men dressed in replica NFL shirts and kilts entered the bar. There was one Cincinnati Bengal, one New England Patriot and two San Diego Chargers. The one in the light blue San Diego Chargers shirt proceeded to sit on top of our table, with the crack of his butt just inches away from our bottle and glasses.

It was an act that rated pretty highly on the ignorance scale and was compounded by their loutish behaviour. The late game between the Patriots and the Minnesota Vikings was on in the background and they were watching it keenly. I was ok with that, it was when they started jumping up and down and shouting loudly after every single play that I got a bit tetchy. I said nothing, but I shot the light blue Charger a look that said 'are you seriously going to sit on top of my table with your arse out for the whole evening?'. Eventually he got the message and found another place to rest his chunky posterior. His mate was happy as the Patriots won, though by then the Bengal and the other Charger had left the building.

Wine drained, kilt-war averted, we headed off with every intention of turning up again next year. In the interests of the sport, of course.