So here’s a story about something that happened to us a while ago when the U.S. played Portugal in the World Cup.
That day (June 22nd) was also the day that we had the Greater Boston Day of Portugal parade here in Cambridge, the final part of the Boston Portuguese Festival. The parade always has a lot of great stuff on display and a lot of great traditional Portuguese music. So in honor of my Portuguese heritage, I wore my Portuguese National Football team jersey (from 2006 – the team was really awesome that year) once I was no longer in my police uniform.
Of course, like I said, that day was also the day that the U.S. played Portugal in the World Cup. And we decided to go out to eat since we had a gift certificate to Donohue’s in Watertown. I was still wearing my Portuguese jersey when we walked up to the bar and realized that they were ALL WATCHING THE GAME.
So after wondering whether or not we would have to wait, we went in, and sure enough there were audible comments. Mostly booing, as I recall. But I shrugged it off and we ended up getting a table in a banquet room that was mostly empty except for two guys who were also watching the game. One of them appeared to have had a bit to drink, judging by his behavior. I mostly tuned him out, which was easier for me since my hearing is so bad anyway. But Kelly could hear him, and boy was this guy a gem. Apparently he had a running commentary going in which he was throwing around a lot of anti-Portuguese comments, really slamming the Portuguese communities in Fall River (where my parents were born) and other South Coast places, calling them all un-American and whatnot, with a healthy sprinkling of homophobic comments to boot. So Kelly was gritting her teeth and getting somewhat agitated, and I did not really fully appreciate why until later. But the food was great, the service was great, and we managed to get out of there without any drunks trying to start a fight or do something equally stupid. It may have helped that when we left the game was tied 1 to 1. We did not hear about the blown game (for the U.S.) until later when we heard the final score was 2 to 2.
Good times. I love Boston.