Early in the semester, a British family friend asked if I had been to a football (read: soccer) game in England yet. I replied that I had attended the England-Switzerland national game on Sept. 8. Yes, I had been to a football game.

“No,” he replied, “have you been to a real football game?”

He was referring to a Premier League game and proceeded to offer me tickets to see Manchester United play at its home stadium, Old Trafford, one of the most famous soccer stadiums in the world.

Now, I’ve been to three football games in England — one national, one Premier League and one NFL game at Wembley Stadium. Each was distinct from the other two, and all three were barely comparable to my American sports experiences. The starkest difference was that the fans cheered on their chosen club more than their national soccer team.

The match between national teams intrigued me. Although the game meant nothing for England’s European Cup qualifying, it was an opportunity for striker Wayne Rooney to break his country’s all-time goal scoring record. On the Swiss side, a win would help its qualifying prospects immensely.

For that reason alone, I wasn’t surprised to see the small contingent of Swiss fans out-cheer the Brits for most of the game, but the general apathy of the English fans was unexpected. Known for their “hooliganism” at soccer matches, I expected a rowdy experience.

But the fans around me didn’t seem to care very much. Every bad play was met with a resigned groan from the crowd, almost as if they expected it. The below-capacity stadium emptied early with an English victory ensured.

In Manchester, chants from United fans echoed through the stadium from the opening whistle. This is what I expected from British soccer — my friend was right, and this was my first real football game.

United faced a much weaker West Bromwich Albion squad and dominated possession in the first half but was unable to score. The fans chorused, “Shoot!” whenever a player received the ball in space within striking distance, but all shots were off target. They yelled and cursed at every missed opportunity in a season filled with subpar offense.

Despite their frustration, the fans never let Old Trafford be quiet. Wembley matched Manchester only once during the national game, when a penalty kick was called the crowd collectively whispered, “Rooney… Rooney…” knowing their man had a chance at history. After he buried his 50th career goal in the top left corner of the net, the crowd exploded.

Despite the differences in fandom for United and the English national team, there was no doubting the fans commitment to their side. At Old Trafford, a small section for West Brom fans was surrounded with neon-jacketed security guards in an effort to preempt fights that are all too common at Premier League matches.

When I got to Wembley Stadium for an American football game between the Kansas City Chiefs and Detroit Lions, I wasn’t surprised to see (presumably British) fans wearing jerseys from all 32 teams.

Once inside, I found Chiefs flags placed on every seat as the “home” team for the day. During the game, with the Chiefs dominating, I looked around to see nearly everyone in attendance waving their flags vigorously, in spite of the jerseys they wore.

In all three respects, the intensity of the fans was, to me, stronger than the typical American fans. United fans took every miss personally while English fans at the international match seemed to think it was their right to a victory that day. The NFL fans displayed a passion for the sport, if not a specific team, that isn’t seen in America, or Syracuse.

Jack Rose is a junior broadcast and digital journalism major. You can email him at jlrose@syr.edu or follow him @jrose94 on Twitter.

Published on November 11, 2015 at 9:03 pm