Londoners Try the Real Thing

By B.J. Phillips/London

The problem with arranged marriages is that however good the reasons for the match, no one really knows whether the bride and groom will get along. British sports fans' love affair with the National Football League has been no exception. For the past four seasons, Britain's athletic affections have been wooed by television courtiers offering weekly 75-minute highlight films. The lords of commerce, N.F.L. Properties, have tried to sweeten the romance by selling $12 million worth of logo-emblazoned paraphernalia annually. Grass- roots support for the liaison was growing in the form of a new youthful obsession that has seen 110 amateur football teams formed in just three years.

But how would the bride react when she reached the altar and saw the real thing, in the form of the Chicago Bears and the Dallas Cowboys, waiting for her in Wembley Stadium? Well, the honeymoon may not be over, but when the much ballyhooed American Bowl came to an end last week in London, it was clear that American football has yet to find domestic bliss in Britain. "You can't beat the spectacle," said one fan as he shuffled toward the exits, "but don't you think that 3 1/2 hours is rather much for a onehour game?"

This was the first contest played in London under N.F.L. auspices (two earlier ones were sponsored by private promoters). With the U.S.F.L. decision to retire from the field this year in the wake of an adverse court decision, the N.F.L. is set to solidify its hold on Americans and has designs on Europe. Building on 4 million British viewers a week, the league is trying to penetrate cable and pay-TV markets in a half a dozen more European countries. The London visit by the Bears and Cowboys was tailor-made for proselytizing, and the teams were turned into ambassadors for the sport. Players posed for pictures in full protective gear and answered awed questions about their size with a deprecating "265 lbs., but I'm only 6 ft. 4 1/2." The visitors were such outsize and obvious celebrities in London that the Bears' William ("the Refrigerator") Perry, who endorses a local supermarket chain, required his own bobby bodyguard. Even Dallas Coach Tom Landry got into the goodwill act by putting on a bobby's helmet for photographers. He looked no worse than he does in his customary porkpie hat.

The game had sold out months ago in just a few days, and not even a cold, driving rain could deter the lucky 82,699 ticket holders. They filed into Wembley past souvenir hawkers peddling T shirts, caps and, of all things, Confederate flags, one of the odder English associations with American football. A comfortingly familiar concert by the Band of the Grenadier Guards filled some of the pregame wait. Culture shock began in earnest with the arrival of the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders, who romped onto the field and high-kicked for the astonished audience. "What is this?" a Brit demanded, as he riffled furiously through his program book.

The books, which contained six pages of "football basics," complete with diagrams of formations and drawings to show the difference between a forward pass and a pitchout, got a workout as the game progressed and fans tried to grapple with the live version of football. "We have a great deal to learn, don't we?" mused one befuddled watcher. Most of the running plays, with the thunderous exception of Perry's one-yard touchdown rumble, went unnoticed and uncheered. "It's easier to see the ball on the telly," Sean Dyer, 24, of Melton Mowbray, said, by way of explaining the crowd's curious lapses into silence. But when the ball was kicked or passed, and thus clearly visible to the untrained eye, cheers rocked the stadium.

The Bears' first touchdown was the fans' best moment, albeit the Cowboys' worst. After a pass from Quarterback Danny White, Wide Receiver Tony Hill weaved 7 yds. with the ball, only to fumble. Chicago Safety Dave Duerson picked up the loose ball and ran 48 yds. for a touchdown. Typical of a - preseason exhibition after just two weeks of practice, there were waves of substitutions and a flood of mistakes. The Cowboys fumbled four times and were intercepted once. But the fumbles bothered less than the long pauses for huddles and time-outs. Accustomed to their weekly compressed broadcast of top games with edited nonstop action, British followers of the sport are a highlight hybrid, completely at sea among the delays of the actual event. "I didn't realize they had this many commercials on American television," said one British fan. "I've never seen so much standing around. It makes cricket seem almost action-packed."

The transatlantic foray was a clear plus for bilateral relations. Bobbies manning the gates reported that 40% of those entering the stadium were American. Some 300 jet-age enthusiasts joined the Bears on their flight from Chicago, and groups of Texans decided, in one woman's phrase, "to use the occasion to squeeze in some shopping. I needed a new raincoat." Most Americans in the crowd, though, were expatriates and service members eager for a football fix. Judging by the number of Army, Air Force and Marine T shirts from bases across Europe, American Bowl weekend would have been a good time for the Soviets to attack. In the stands beside their British cousins, the Americans offered football seminars throughout the evening. Said Rugby Player Ian Blakey, of Billingham: "I'm sitting behind some Cowboy fans, and they're conducting classes. You need help with all this if you've only seen it on the telly."

Indeed, most did need direction trying to sort out hand-offs, pass patterns, zone defenses and blocking assignments. "There's so much going on, I'm finding it hard to figure out which bit of it to watch," one fan said to a companion. "Yes," his friend replied. "I'm having the same problem with the cheerleaders."