When one is far from home and life seems to be wearing a particularly cruel smile, sometimes you reach for things that are familiar and comforting. For me, this meant a trip to The Richmond Arms in Houston on Wednesday afternoon to watch Manchester United play Fulham in the FA Cup.

The Richmond Arms is a crumbling outpost of Anglophilia located between a dingy Wendy’s and a hubcap wholesaler in the stripshopping center milieu of Southwest Houston. Walking through the red doors, you leave the blinding Texas sun and the jungle Gulf heat behind and enter a cavelike netherworld that smells vaguely of Thames bilgewater.

As a soccer fan, you never know what you are going to find when you enter a pub that advertises they are showing the big game. Are the owners real soccer fans or just using the EPL to pimp more customers during a slow part of the day? Will I have to cajole or argue with a grouchy bartender to dial in Setanta? Will the pub be showing the game on the big screen? Or will I be relegated to a back room to watch on a tiny 24 incher while a couple guys watch the Dubhai Open on HiDef? I always run into these issues and I usually enter these pubs with a certain dread knowing it could get ugly.

But Fulham vs Manchester United was most definitely showing at the Richmond Arms, with an eclectic crowd of about 35 people (out of work/playing hooky/retired…?) waiting to see their beloved ManU! I ordered a chicken sandwich and DietCoke and quietly wondered if my rooting for The Whites or not drinking would cause issues.

I needn’t have bothered about the game, when after twelve minutes, “Scholsie” lasered a shot in to put ManU up 1-0 to the delight of the locals. The chatter was lively: “Can we turn the volume up luv, all I hear is someone’s cell phone ringing in my ear..”, “…this whole place smells of curry…”, “look at Van der Saar laughing at the camera after that shot…”, “…is that Dempsey…is he already back..?”, “…Look at them hack Ronaldo, a travesty…”

The game was a joke; Fulham doing their usual away game routine while ManU ran a Six Sigma course in efficiency on the way to a 3-0 victory. When Rooney entered in the 80th minute, the expats clinked their Guinness’s together – Rooney was clearly everyone’s ManCrush – and the room soon roared with delight as Rooney scored a sitter off a Parks pass in the winding moments.

Watching ManU stirs up many emotions in the non ManU fan. You can’t help but admire the skills of Ronaldo, even his theatrical falls and ground dramatics. And Scholes’ right leg could launch satellites. Who doesn’t like Giggs? But I did find myself longing for the return of Jose Mourinho while watching Sir Alex contemptuously laugh on the sidelines at Fulham. I respect the output of Parks but I did begin to wonder if he could handle a Dempsey forearm shiver to the face. Berbatov is probably a great guy and certainly a good scorer but I can’t root for a guy who looks like a cross between Dracula and The Continental Man.

No doubt I am a sore loser. Despite the sour outcome, I found the Richmond Arms to be a great place to watch a game. The crowd was large, many different types of people, and was very passionate about the game. The waitresses clearly know their clientele and kept the drinks and food flowing while keeping out of the way of the screens. The food itself was alright – how can you mess up a chicken sandwich – but not bad and the beer (over 200 varieties) appeared outstanding.

Walking out into the late afternoon Houston sun, back to the drive time news of a local billionaire on the run from the law and a chimp stabbing, I kind of wished I could hang out at the Richmond Arms a lot longer or at least until all this bad news blew away.

I highly recommend The Richmond Arms.