The scene where I was, as a Halo fanatic, couldn't have been better. An expensive sports bar in central London packed with Chowds and wanna-be Chowds.

I heard one guy clapping in a far corner of the busy Sports Cafe when Kazmir delivered a strikeout. I gravitated to him. His name is Mike from San Juan Capistrano. I was the only person in the joint wearing an Angels cap, but the place was packed with Sox fans wearing full regalia.

It was a fan ratio of about 30-1. Two Angels fans, plus two Yankees fans who hate the Red Sox, versus countless chowds.

To their credit, the Red Sox fans accepted defeat with grace. The Angels fans (myself and Mike) ran around like maniacs high-fiving after the last out, but we did not gloat. We tried to handle victory with as much grace as they handled defeat.

Oddly, out of the 30 or so Red Sox fans at the Sports Cafe, about 10 were women and none had mustaches. None were drunk. In fact, every female Sox fan at the Sports Cafe in London was dead-on HOT. And the guys were cool too.

Not surprisingly, they wished us luck against the Yankees and in fact some of them congratulated me and asked us to kick the Yankees' ass for them.

All in all, not what I expected at all. A lot of hanging heads from the Sox fans but I can't think of one that did not conduct themselves with class.

All in all, a perfect evening watching baseball in mixed company. Postgame player ratings coming later after I have a much-needed beer.

~ highland