Tales From My Past - Soccer Hooligans

I used to travel quite a bit for a job I once had, all over the world as a matter of fact. I was particularly excited when I found out I was going to England, because they spoke a reasonable facsimile of the English I did. Close enough to get by and not get in a fight. And even if I did get in a fight, so what? They're English, they're all consumptive and meek, they wear cardigans and huddle by their peat fires trying to keep their strength up for another bleak day, they're no real threat, right?
   I've never been more wrong. I assumed English meant effete, and lucky for me I didn't have to get in a fight to find that out.
   One of my first nights there I went into Lakenheath village, to a pub. There was a football match on - what we call soccer but I'll call football out of respect - and the first thing I noticed when I entered was just how much bigger than me almost every man was. Taller and broader across the shoulders, and I'm not dainty. They were all wearing their striped scarves with the colors of their team, and I decided to make myself as unobtrusive as possible, so that when fists started flying I could avoid the worst of it. They were loud, they were raucous, and they were very, very, very drunk. I accidentally bumped into one or two guys - their fault, really but explain that to a drunk Englishman with rings in his lip - and I know if I didn't look as American as I do they would have punched me. Hard.
   I went to the bar to get a 'lemonade' which is what they call Sprite. The action was heating up in the game and the bartender glanced at me. I waved, trying to tell him to wait, but he thought I wanted service right then. He turned around... and of course that's when his team scored a goal. The place erupted in cheers, and the bartender glared at me, wishing me dead on the spot. I ordered the most expensive beer they had instead, and bought the bartender one for himself (that's how you tip). I ate my pub meal, nursed the apology beer in front of me, and tried to blend in with the wainscoting. When the game ended and their team won the soccer fans emptied out of the pub to go run the streets of Lakenheath in celebration. I finished my meal and slipped away quietly.
   Note: One thing I learned about British people which you should know, it will go easier for you when you deal with them. They are all insane. Not crazy-uncle-Larry insane, they don't wear swim fins on the bus or paint their houses pink. No, they're eat-you-for-breakfast insane, every last one of them. But since the entire nation is that way they all get along. Just don't piss them off.