Ed. III | The Tundra

Monday was a test, a trial if you will. The majority of standard employees in the city of Milwaukee should have had the day off in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King. So, that left very little margin for the city’s football junkies to skip out on the Premier League’s habitual Monday evening match with a side of beer. On the contrary, the game was featuring two of the league’s shinbones, Swansea and Watford… And it didn’t help that the temperature outside was a viscous 2°F (nearly -17°C). Don’t even get me started on the wind chill.

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Ed. II | The Away Match

The two o’clock church bells from St. Paul’s on Knapp Street are in full voice on a grey Monday afternoon. The walk to Clare’s isn’t one of frostbitten wind, but by no means would I call it a warm commute as I zigzag to avoid puddles on the city’s choppy sidewalks. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a Monday match at Clare’s, come to think of it. But after traveling for the past two weeks away on work, nothing sounds better than ninety minutes of Manchester City away at Arsenal with a well-poured Guinness next to the fireplace. That’s why I’m so thoroughly disappointed to tug on a door that just won’t budge.

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Ed. I | The Barman

“Is it too early for a Guinness?”

“No, no,” replies the barman. “You need to get your vitamin G.”

In many cases, ten in the morning would be too early for a pint of the dark stuff.  But not when you’re a pub-going Premier League fan in the American Midwest. I’ve just been lured off the crisp December streets of downtown Milwaukee, Wisconsin into an ambient hotel bar called County Clare’s.  Hanging my scarf on the back of my barstool, I shed my layers as the glow of the fireplace welcomingly creeps ever closer to where I’ve set up camp.

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