We came to this country huge fans of soccer leagues with names like Stoddert, not Barclays. We leave believers. I am a cliche: The American who comes to Europe and falls in love with Soccer.

We are American sports fans. We stay up all night to watch the Super Bowl. We set our alarms at ungodly hours to watch our teams in playoff action. ESPN.com is the first thing we check in the morning to get the previous day's game scores.

But now there are new words, terms and names that are part of our daily lexicon. Words that previously had no meaning. A foreign language: Chelsea, Bayern, Stoppage, Didier Drogba, Mancini, Tevez and Torres.

"Today we don't cry."

Those were the words of the players from Chelsea, which won the Champions League.

The words were similar in tone when Manchester City won the Premier League.

In European soccer there are many ways to win and many ways to lose. Chelsea won the Champions League this past weekend making them the champions of European soccer. However, you only make it into the European Champions League if you are one of the top four teams from England. Chelsea was only the sixth best team, but by wining they guaranteed themselves a spot next year. However, the team in fourth place, Tottenham gets bounced.

And I haven't even started explaining the confusing stuff.

Soccer enriches and defines the life of Englishmen. With a big game pending, I knew I could walk down any street, find any pub, join any crowd and be in the thick of football pain and pleasure.

What I will remember about my first season are the people and how they react to this, their most cherished pastime.

Wherever we travelled we tried to see a game and the memories of those places are some of the strongest. The old men crying in Rome as they sang a love song to their team. The cheers that rang through Old Trafford as Man U closed in on a victory. The red nosed men at Stamford Bridge.

Their stadiums have great old names. Not unlike Wrigley Field, though it is still named after a consumer product, it harkens back to another era: Old Trafford, the Boleyn Ground, Craven Cottage, Stadium of Light and Anfield.

And the sports pages write of nothing else. Although understanding what they mean requires a local to explain:

"Second half goals by Cisse and Mackie either side of a Joey Barton red card, had given ten-man QPR a shock lead."

I can explain that.

All of us are confined to a schedule, sometimes of our doing and sometimes not. But there is a sense of strength, if that’s the right word, maybe it is freedom, that comes from being able to stand at a train station look up at the big board and know you can go anywhere the tracks will take you. You have 24 hours and they are yours.

I chose Brighton. Well, I really chose Liverpool, but the tracks were all messed up and a two hour ride was going to take me six.

Brighton did brighten my day, even in the cold and drizzle that has shrouded England for the past four weeks.

Brighton is one of those cities like Portland Maine or Seattle Washington that is heavy on the Three Vs: Vinyl records, Vegan food and Vintage clothing.

A one hour, ten pound train from London takes you from the city to the seaside with stops throughout South London from Hassocks to Hayward's Heath, through Three Bridges, East Croyden, and Burgess Hill. But Brighton has all the sights and smells of a beach. Visually it looks like old-time Atlantic City with the Ferris wheel and the pier, the sound of gulls overhead and the smell of fish (and chips) all around.

Brighton is on the south coast of Great Britain and like all things in this country has a long history going back to 1086. It was a health resort kind of place even back in the day, then it went through some disrepair and is now back on the gentrification track with universities and high end stores.

But beyond the sea, the highlight is the visually magnificent Royal Pavilion. And there are the North Laines, a shopping area like no other with bunches of zig zagging streets and hundreds of shops, none of which exist anywhere else on earth. From records and turntables, vintage clothing and vintage cameras, from tattoos to typewriters, the streets, even on a rainy day are teeming with tourists and townies all looking for a bargain, a cup of tea and a piece of dairy/gluten free cake.