Albania! Albania! It's on the Adriadic!

In which I sports bar in Tirana.

After traveling across the world to Tirana, I stumble out of my taxi into the Bloku neighborhood. Traffic is jammed, so he drops me off on the edge. I wheel my luggage through the rain in search of my Airbnb. I’m excited but overwhelmed, taking in my first impressions of this city I’ve dreamed of for years. Six-story communist-era buildings bookend the narrow streets, the cars are trapped, the Albanians arm in arm. The Linden tree perfume dizzies. I start walking the wrong way before turning myself around. I am gawking. I admit it.

Here’s the first bar I see.

Did I get off at the wrong stop? Would I have to walk the Freedom Trail? The last food I’m in the mood for is beans. SO CONFUSED.

But there was a reason for the sign. Maybe you already know it. Maybe you’re already singing about the chief export of Chrome.

If not, here’s the backstory.

When I would say I was headed to Albania, most of my fellow Americans responded something like this:

1. “Wow! Albania!”

2. “Wow! Albania? Uh, where is that again?”

3. “Albania, cool. Any special reason?”

4. “I hear that’s trendy now.”

5. “Good for you.”

Sometimes, though, people would begin to sing:

“Albaniaaaaa! Albaniaaaaaaa! It’s on the Adriatic!”

Then they stopped with a look of puzzlement like a sleeper agent failing to activate.

“Where do I know that from?” One woman asked me. “The Good Place?”

“Cheers,” I knew to tell her. “That sitcom from the 80s.”

The first person to sing “Albania!” to me was my friend Anna’s husband, Chad. (Hi, Anna!), which prepared me. Thanks, Chad.

If you’re of my era, you know this show. If younger than me, you might have absorbed pop culture zeitgeists like “they have a Sam and Diane thing.” Frasier is a spinoff. Woody Harrelson got his start on this show.

And after watching this video you, too, will never forget that Albania is on the Adriatic.

Can I say that there is no stock character I love more in comedy than the straight-faced dum-dum? This scene features two masters of the game.

Fun fact: while a bar called Cheers Beacon Hill inspired the show, Cheers was so popular the owner opened a faux bar for tourists that recreated the television set, which has since closed.

In Tirana, “Cheers” is actually Duff’s Sports Bar. Sports bars aren’t common in Tirana. Tirana has tons of hipster bars and coffee shops that double as hipster bars. The country has a significant Muslim population, so booze-free, gambling spots for men are also common.

Like most of Europe, you can order a delightful glass of wine, beer, or cocktail just about anywhere. Therefore, unlike our post-prohibition nation, you never have to crawl into a dark, gross, urine-aroma-ed hole for a drink. (I’m looking at you, Utah. But also when they open the bar doors in my college hometown of Athens, Ohio, prepare to gag).

Generally speaking, I am not a ballsports person, but I can get in the mood. I had to belly up to the Cheers/Duff’s bar at least once, so I chose the night that Albania played Spain in the European Championship.

Meaning football. We’re in Europe. The sport is football.

All of Tirana buzzed that night, large screens hanging outside, businesses creating makeshift sidewalk viewing areas, the excitement palpable. Skanderbeg Square had been transformed into a mini arena with artificial grass and bleachers. Teenage boys in red jerseys with the black Albanian eagle ran laughing and waving flags.

That Albania would lose to Spain was a 99% given, but that the team had made it this far remained an underdog moment to celebrate.

I bravely stayed up past 10 p.m., walked around the corner, and swung open the door.

No one shouted “Norm!” but Albanians aren’t like that (praise be), and to be fair, this was my first visit. I found a space at the end of the bar, cranked my elbow, and assumed the position.

The bartender wore a Jack Daniels t-shirt. A Jagermeister sign glowed. Black and white photos of 80s celebrities hung on the wall — The Blues Brothers, Blondie, Mick Jagger, Janis Joplin, et. al. From what I know about American sports bars, the only decor allowed are television screens, with the occasional sports jersey.

Other signs I wasn’t at an American sports bar:

1. No air-conditioning set to blast mode.

2. Smoking. No chain-smoking, either, and not everyone, but yeah, it’s fine to light up.

3. Eating chicken wings and fries with toothpicks. No piles of greasy napkins. (The wings looked delicious, by the way, like crispy Korean fried chicken).

4. No one wasted and acting obnoxious. People sipped a beer or two at a leisurely pace, comfortable in one another’s company.

Which is not to say people weren’t rejoicing or groaning as play dictated. If Albania had toppled Goliath, no doubt Duff’s and the entire city of Tirana would have lost its collective mind.

If you want to read about Albanians finding joy through football during the communist regime I suggest Inside the Hermit Kingdom.

I did not drink the number of beers that would have inspired me to burst into song. Nor did the crowd look drunk enough to join in. My feeling was no one knew why the Cheers sign hung outside, the crowd too young and too international to get the reference.

A past-life Irish Kelly who would have gone to Duff’s every night until she got everyone to join in a round of “Albania! Albania!” but that Kelly’s liver is tired now and needs a rest.

At least I can thank Albania and Coach for inspiring people to seranade me with a different Cheers song from the one I’ve been hearing for years.