7:00 AM: I’m riding on the Marc to D.C
in front of Sven-Göran Eriksson: the ex-
England-and-now-Mexico football coach sits
drowsing behind me (we’re facing
backwards toward Baltimore), and it
isn’t Sven but just a man who looks
like him (he’s got Sven-Göran’s silver hair
and trademark silver-rimmed spectacles).
He detrains at New Carrollton before
the Marc rolls down to Union Station,
glides down the escalator to his work
at the Social Security Administration.
And I regret once again we can’t enjoy
comparing notes on the merits
of the England and Mexico teams.
Christopher T. George