who could complain? This is England.
The buzz on the bus was ripe once we pulled up to the town where the stadium is located. I snapped a few pics of what was outside...
...and just about fell in love with the kitsch that surrounded the place.
Our coach (English for "bus") and about fifty or a hundred (or a thousand? You'll see soon that my idea of estimation went right out the window Monday night) others parked about a kilometre from the stadium.
We walked to the monstrosity that is Old Trafford...
Maybe this isn't a big deal for you because you've been in the presence of 75,570 people before. Or maybe you're really good at estimating what 75,570 people looks like. I have not found myself in either of those positions ever in life. I was in complete awe of the amount of people, the control exercised by this immense crowd, and the sheer sportsmanship so many people showed. Sure, they booed when the opposing team substituted a player for another and they chanted, "B*stard!" at the other team, but other than that, they were super wicked sports fans.
The merchandise was flowing...
...and the first and only goal scored in the game brought every single person in that crowd of 75,570 to his or her feet. Cool right?
Aleisha and I thought it was pretty cool.
So there you have it...Lexi at a
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