by Alex Goetzfried
It is 2 in the afternoon on a Tuesday in March and the Baker Street Pub is packed with ravenous soccer fans. The scene could easily be mistaken for a Saturday night if it wasn’t beautiful and sunny outside.
The match is a big one, Manchester United vs. Real Madrid. There is an order to the seating arrangements. Real Madrid fans are at the bar, Manchester United fans occupy the tables in the back.
The patrons are Albanian, Israeli, Irish, English, and some, the bartender Eileen, doesn’t know what they are and has no idea what they are saying, so she serves them whatever she feels like. “Can you speak up! I can’t read lips back here!” Eileen yells at a patron with an indiscernible accent. “Some are alright, and some are cheap,” she says with a roll of her eyes. It is what would normally be considered an off day, but she knows European soccer fans are her weekday bread and butter.
At most bars weekday lunch shifts are a death sentence or are reserved for training newbies, but not at the Baker Street Pub. What happens on any given day, at any time revolves around soccer and rugby schedules. An outsider couldn’t tell the difference between what is going on here and a Sunday afternoon of American football.
