NFL has never played anywhere quite like historic Twickenham
— -- Not even a defeat could stop Daniel Hourcade from taking pleasure in his surroundings. The head coach of Argentina's rugby team expressed a good many regrets at the end of a 33-21 loss to Australia this month, from his team's failure to capitalize on key opportunities to a shortage of contested scrums. But the decision to give up home-field advantage and stage this game in England was not among them.
"It was a great experience. Playing here at Twickenham [Stadium] is really an honor," said Hourcade. He went on to describe the venue as "the cathedral of rugby."
Time will tell whether Twickenham can make a similar impression on Jeff Fisher. The Los Angeles Rams head coach could be forgiven for feeling unenthusiastic about surrendering one of his team's home games to host the New York Giants in London at a potentially pivotal moment in the NFL season.
Fisher took the Rams across the pond once before, in 2012. They were shellacked 45-7 by the New England Patriots in what remains the most lopsided NFL International Series result.
That game, though, was held at Wembley Stadium. Sunday will mark the NFL's first visit to Twickenham. This change of setting might not mean much to Fisher, whose only focus right now will be on picking his team up after consecutive defeats. The rest of us, though, might find intrigue in the prospect of an American football game being staged at the spiritual home of English rugby.
Humble beginnings
There was a time when people might have scoffed at the suggestion that Twickenham should host any sport other than rugby. Then again, there was a time when people scoffed at the suggestion that it could host any sporting event at all.
The decision by England's fledgling Rugby Football Union to invest almost ?5,600 on a 10?-acre parcel of land on the southwest outskirts of London back in 1907 was greeted with incredulity by the national press. For journalists who lived and worked in the city center, Twickenham might as well have been Timbuktu -- 12 or so miles from Piccadilly Circus and with poor transport links.
This was not prime real estate but farming land -- previously in use as a mix of orchards and market gardens. Worse, it was located in a flood plain. The RFU had to arrange for the field to be raised using dirt excavated during the creation of the London Underground's Metropolitan line.
The venue was quickly nicknamed "Billy Williams' Cabbage Patch" -- a jab at the RFU committee member who had proposed the site. More pointed words were chosen by the Daily Mirror newspaper, which characterized the whole project as "a costly white elephant."
Twickenham would defy such dire assessments. Despite occasional flirtations with different venues, England Rugby has never left. Instead, the stadium has gradually expanded -- with stands rebuilt on the same site several times over -- from a capacity of 18,000 at its first international game through to 82,000 today (although various NFL-specific modifications will reduce this to 75,000 on Sunday).
As it has grown, the stadium has been modernized. It now incorporates a fitness center and a Marriott hotel, with suites looking out over the field. But this is not a place that has lost touch with its history. The east stand is home to the World Rugby Museum, where Phil McGowan, who authored a history of the stadium in 2014, works as the interpretation and education officer. McGowan is quick to point out that at least one part of Twickenham remains forever unchanged.
"The pitch is still in the exact same place as it was in 1909," McGowan said. The grass itself has been relaid many times over, and in 2012, it was upgraded with a partially artificial base that helps to keep the playing surface in better condition. Otherwise, McGowan said, "It's still exactly the same height. When there's a game, they're still playing on top of the old dirt dug out from the Metropolitan line."
That field has been the stage for iconic rugby games, from England's win over Wales in Twickenham's first full international game, in 1910, right through to World Cup games in 1991, 1999 and 2015. And yet some of the most important chapters in its history have nothing to do with rugby. During World War I, Twickenham was used by the British army to graze and train horses before they were sent out to the front.
"Then, during the second world war, the whole stadium was given over to the war office, and it became a civil service depot," McGowan said. "The West Car Park was turned into a coal dump. The fire brigade took over the south terrace and put all their vehicles underneath, which were then used during the Blitz. The west stand was turned into a medical response center, so there were lots of hospital beds put there, to be used in the event of a chemical attack in London.
"Only the RFU secretary remained in his office, which he kept to himself. After the war had finished, there are photos with the roofs of the stands covered in holes from shrapnel damage during the Blitz. That was the case for 20, 30 years after -- you could see these patched-up holes in the roof of the stands."
Bathing in a century of history
The Rams and Giants are not in London for a history lesson. It seems unlikely that players will use what little free time they do have to visit the World Rugby Museum. But they will get at least a flavor of what makes this place unique as they make their way into the stadium.
On the drive in, team buses are routed through the West Car Park. This is the spot where fans gather before games to eat and drink before kickoff.
If that sounds like a familiar ritual to any NFL fan, then the devil is in the detail. Rugby union, in part because of its long-standing commitment to amateurism that lasted right up until the mid-1990s -- with the effect that only those with money could afford to give up the time required to compete at a high level -- has historically drawn a well-heeled crowd. Instead of beer and brats, the West Car Park was famous for champagne and caviar.
"I mean, it's tailgating in the States, isn't it?" Martin Johnson, a former World Cup-winning captain for England, said with a chuckle. "But it's 'having a spot of lunch' in the West Car Park at Twickenham."
The scene has become less genteel in recent years, with food concessions and beer tents encroaching into areas where parking is no longer permitted. It might look different this Sunday, in any case, with the NFL using that area for its own official tailgate.
Once inside the stadium, though, players will walk down a tunnel adorned with great names and games from English rugby history. Inside the home locker room, cubicles are adorned with the names of the country's most capped players at each position. An adjoining corridor carries the list of every player who ever represented England.
More vivid than any of these things might be the two standalone iron baths positioned beside the new hydrotherapy baths in the home locker room. First purchased back as part of a set of six in 1931, these were for many decades the primary means of players getting clean after a game. They would be half-filled with cold water before kickoff, then topped up with hot at full-time.
"For a lot of the boys, that used to be part of the fun after a game," Johnson said. "Just to sit in there and soak it all up. When they rebuilt the west stand in the 1990s, we didn't know if they would keep them. While they were doing it, [then England prop] Jason Leonard tried to walk off with one. He drove up with his van and tried to take one away. But they caught him in the act.
"Anyway, when they rebuilt the stand, they did put a couple of them back in there. But now they've started filling the baths with ice instead of warm water, so it's not quite so good!"
A surprising hymn
Sunday's game will be preceded, as with every other NFL International Series game in London, with the singing of both the American and British national anthems. But perhaps the most fascinating question before this game at Twickenham is whether there will be enough rugby fans in the crowd to follow that up with another song that has become a part of the lore of this place.
A rendition of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,?the spiritual originally sung by slaves in the U.S. in the 19th century,?became the unofficial anthem of English rugby more than a century later.
Precisely how that happened is a matter of dispute. The most popular story has it that the song was first introduced to Twickenham by a group of schoolboys celebrating a virtuoso performance by Chris Oti, England's first black player in more than 80 years, against Ireland in 1988.
Whatever the truth of that account, however, it is known that "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" had been sung in English rugby clubhouses for years before it became associated with the national team. Johnson recalls it being popular when he was playing as teenager in the 1980s.
Stripping in the stands at Twickenham is generally frowned upon -- even if one exhibit in the World Rugby Museum does claim that this stadium was the setting for the first streaker at a professional sporting event. "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," however, has persisted to this day.
I've been lucky enough to play for England against New Zealand at Twickenham," said Northampton back Ben Foden. "Obviously, they have the Haka [New Zealand's pregame war dance], which is something that's steeped in tradition, as well. But when they do that at Twickenham, our fans always sing 'Swing Low, Sweet Chariot' at the top of their lungs to drown it out. It's pretty special. You really notice the crowd and the impact they can have on a game."
When planning out Twickenham's latest major redesign, in 1988, architect Terry Ward stated his intention to "create a stadium for England that would give them a five-point advantage in every home game." Whether he succeeded on that front is difficult to quantify, but certainly he created a venue that can get deafeningly loud at times.
That much will be nothing new to NFL players. But a round of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" would certainly feel unique. English fans serenaded Argentina and Australia with the song during that game earlier this month at Twickenham. What sort of cathedral, after all, would let a new congregation leave without hearing its most stirring hymn?
