Soccer Travels: Watching the UCL final in Tulsa

I spent the 2019 UCL final not in Madrid, but in Oklahoma to attend my best friend's wedding

Cast your mind back to before the COVID-19 pandemic before the world got flipped, turned upside down (Fresh Prince reference) to the Champions League final 2019. 

The final pitted Liverpool against fellow Premier League club Tottenham Hotspur. The five-time winners versus a team few fans would have expected to reach the final. As a Liverpool supporter, I experienced an incredible wave of emotions in the semifinals, as the Reds came from three goals down to defeat Barcelona 4-3 on aggregate to reach the final. It was one of the most remarkable nights of football I’d ever seen.   

I was reduced to tears as I watched the game from my living room. I can only imagine what it would have been like had I been at Anfield for the match. A few months later, when I took my son on his first tour of Anfield, they replayed the highlights of the 4-3 win over Barcelona. I was overcome with emotion watching it and teared up quite badly once more.   

In the excitement and hysteria of the come-from-behind win, my mind immediately thought of travelling to Madrid for the final. No, I wouldn’t be able to get a ticket, but I’d at least be able to be in the city on the night of the game to celebrate a win. While some friends secured tickets, I had a colleague that went just to be in the city, as I wanted to do. Without a hotel or hostel, he passed out in a doorway after a night of raucous celebrations.   

Any hope of booking a flight to Madrid was scuppered by the realisation that my best friend’s wedding was set to take place on the day of the final. Yes, my best mate, Erik, and his fiancée had booked their wedding on the same day, not taking into account Liverpool potentially making it the Champions League’s showpiece game. Extremely selfish, I know.   

So, instead of flying to Spain, I was off to America – Oklahoma to be exact – for a weekend. Despite growing up in America, I have rarely visited over the last 16 years. My family and closest friends still live there.  

One of my first thoughts was, “How will I watch the Champions League final?” Luckily, with the growing interest in soccer in the United States, the final wouldn’t be difficult to watch on television. Compared to the late 1990s and early 2000s when Premier League and Champions League games were difficult to watch in the States, satellite television and streaming services now make it simple.   

In the summer of 2022, I visited my parents and could watch more Premier League matches in one day thanks to NBC’s Peacock streaming service than I could in a week as a Sky Sports and BT Sports subscriber in the UK. The 3 PM blackout rule in the United Kingdom prevents new fans from being created and current fans from following their teams properly. That is another conversation.  

Back in 2019, there was still some worry on my part about how I was going to watch the match in Tulsa, Oklahoma, the site of Erik’s wedding. I arrived at my parents’ house in Missouri on the Wednesday before the final and spent a night in the house I grew up in. A ranch-style home built in 1979, I had lived in that house until I moved abroad. I can perfectly see every room of that house when I close my eyes even though my parents have altered parts of it.   

A day later, I was off to Tulsa, a three-hour drive, along with my two other best friends, Johny and Solly. No trip to Tulsa is complete without stopping at the McDonald’s Over America. While it may sound cool, it is just a truck stop that goes over I-44 with a McDonald’s located inside. You can eat your Big Mac while watching big rigs speed underneath your feet between Oklahoma and Missouri. The idea of McDonald’s Over America sounded cool when I was younger. Now, as an adult, it just looks dirty and a relic of the 1950s.   

Arriving in Tulsa, we made our way to Erik’s house before heading out on the town. There are few places in the US I have any desire to live in. Yet, Tulsa has always appealed to me. Perhaps it is the city’s hipster, gentrification that is so attractive. A night out in Tulsa is always enjoyable and the Max Retro Pub is one of my favourite haunts.   

After a few too many beers and a scooter accident that cut up Johny’s face and hand, we retired for the night. The following day was a bit rough, with hangovers felt by all four of us. To soothe the hangovers, Johny, Solly, and I went to a restaurant called Twin Peaks. I’d never heard of Twin Peaks the dining establishment before but was assured the food was good. Turns out Twin Peaks is like Hooters, but the female waitresses walk around in their underwear and lingerie as they serve food. Seems like a health code violation. It is also a bit awkward speaking to a waitress in lingerie as you order a Nashville hot chicken sandwich.  

It was off to our hotel in downtown Tusla after lunch. Our first night was spent at Erik’s house, but with the wedding fast approaching, we moved to a hotel to allow the families to prepare for the big day. The hangover hadn’t budged after lunch and not even a mini-marathon of Walker, Texas Ranger could save me. Seriously, Walker is a great show.   

A second night around town was much calmer and I was in bed early, ready for the Champions League final the following day. I searched the Internet for a Tulsa Liverpool Supporters Group or any kind of football group to make contact with and watch the match. After scouring online, I decided against meeting up with anyone. I found some people having parties, but it felt like it could be an awkward event. I’m not big on watching important Liverpool matches with other people, especially ones I don’t know. Perhaps I could find a bar showing the match.   

I went out for a run around downtown Tulsa in the morning. The hangover from the day before was gone. It was already over 90 degrees and a run around town helped me get a good sweat. Just a few hundred yards from our hotel was the Tulsa Drillers baseball stadium. The stadium’s ground crew were preparing for a soccer match between Tulsa Soccer Club and Oklahoma City – two women’s minor league teams. I hustled back to the hotel, showered, and headed over to the stadium to catch the match. It was a spontaneous decision costing around $10 and better than lying around a hotel room. The game was completely forgettable, but I wandered around the stadium, checking out a ballpark I’d never visited.   

With the match over, I walked across the street to Elgin Park, one of my favourite bars in Tulsa, hoping to get a good seat at the bar for the Champions League final. I sat down and ordered a Nashville hot sandwich (I was hooked on these during my trip) and a Lone Star Beer. I was able to talk the bartender into turning a couple of the televisions on the broadcast of the final, so I could watch the pre-match show presented by Bleacher Report. If you ever wanted to watch a Champions League pre-match show about everything except the final, then this was the show for you. It was awful. 

Johny and Solly soon joined me in the bar for food, drinks, and to watch the game. Although Solly played soccer in school, he was only there for the atmosphere. Johny, an avid sports fan, had a mild interest. Mostly, they were there to support me.   

To Elgin Park’s credit, once the match kicked off, they had all the televisions on the game. I was pleasantly surprised that the bar had filled up with people watching the match. I figured I might be the only one there to see it. I was the only one wearing a Liverpool shirt – no Tottenham jerseys were seen.  

There were a few people on hand trying their hand a bants. It was cringe-worthy and the type of banter that would get you punched in the face in an English pub. Overall, it was an interesting experience and one I had never had before. Would I want to watch Liverpool play in the Champions League final in a bar in Tulsa again? No. But it wasn’t as bad as I had expected. I got to share something with two of my oldest friends in the world.   

With the game over, I was free to get into my suit and head over to Erik’s wedding. Thankfully, the game didn’t go into extra time or I’d missed the ceremony. That night, having watched the Reds win 2-0, I may not have been in Madrid nor able to go to the parade the following day in Liverpool, but every beer tasted colder and better than the last. It was a glorious day. Oh, my best friend got married, too.