December 2012
Sometimes it’s nice to see ourselves as others see us. Our man in London takes us through the looking glass.
It’s already dark and drizzly at ten to five as I wait in the queue leading into Wembley Stadium’s L-Block. The gate is more tightly controlled than the safeguards around Boston’s Federal Reserve Bank. Brushed stainless steel, electronically controlled security doors allow me to pass through a metal detector and what seems like watertight doors on a ship. Getting into Wembley entails more scrutiny than boarding the Boeing to Heathrow.
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