Archive for August, 2018

PSMS v Bali United, Saturday 28th July 2018, 7pm

August 6, 2018

Medan is in North Sumatra, Indonesia, but it’s less than an hour’s flight from KL and so a lot closer to us than many of the places that we’ve visited in Malaysia. We’d been before, last year, but on that occasion we didn’t have time to mooch around in town as we were on our way to Bukit Lawang to look for wild orangutans.

We found them too, a couple of hours into an early morning walk through the undergrowth in the Gunung Leusur National Park. There had previously been a sanctuary nearby that had closed a few years previously and a few of the apes hadn’t really bothered heading too far away.

Jen and I had two guides for the walk and one of them soon spotted a patch of orange fur up a tree. We crept closer and ended up near to a large male orangutan who seemed happy just to sit and look at us. Or at least he did until his missus turned up. At that point, and despite the audience, they promptly had it off no more than twenty feet away from us. Maybe they liked being watched as it didn’t take them long. Once finished, they moved on to look for a post-coital snack.

We followed them down a path and caught up with them in a clearing where we sat and watched them arse about for a good half an hour. At one point I picked up the skin from long eaten piece of fruit and offered it to the female. She swung herself in my direction and then reached out. Rather than just take the offering she grasped my hand. At that point the guides flapped a bit in the way that guides tend to do, but she soon let go, took the fruit skin and then quickly discarded it in a similar manner to the way that I do with sprouts.

After moving on we were able to see another couple of orangutans further into the trail and then as we made our way back to the camp we found a mother with a toddler. Both of them were happy to relieve us of the bananas that we had left over from lunch.

This trip to Medan didn’t ever threaten to be as good as the last visit, but it was never intended to be. The nearest we got to wildlife on this occasion was a museum full of stuffed exhibits where we whiled away an hour or so trying to remember the names of creatures that we’d seen in Africa or Australia. The main source of fun in these places is usually the bad taxidermy, but sadly few of the animals on display looked as if they had been stuffed by someone whose only previous experience had amounted to putting a duvet back inside its cover.

Still, we were here mainly for the football and a game in the top-tier of the Indonesian league that had briefly promised the possibility of seeing ex-Boro player Willo Flood. Yes, really. He’d left Dunfermline for today’s visitors Bali United about a month ago.  I can’t see why anyone would want to swap Fife for Bali, but I’m sure the prospect of trips to Medan and their taxidermy museum must have a been a prominent factor.

Alas, it was all too good to be true and a few days after Willo arrived it was discovered that his immediate past employment in the Scottish second tier was considered to be too low a standard to justify a work permit. A shame really as I was looking forward to seeing him play. From what I remember of his time at the Riverside he seemed limited, but honest, as he straddled the Strachan and Mowbray eras whilst playing little for either of them due to injury.

I do recall seeing him score a twenty-five yarder that was clearly intended to be a cross. I liked that he had the good grace to look embarrassed. Not all of our players would have done.

The twenty-thousand capacity Stadion Teladan was busy as kick-off approached. We declined any number of offers of food and drink but were able to buy wristbands from a fella outside for the nearest stand. We paid a ten per cent premium on the face value of a hundred thousand whatevers, a total of just over five quid each in real money.

Our stand was covered and down the tunnel side of the pitch. There weren’t any seats and so you had a choice of selecting your patch of concrete either low down where the playing surface was obscured by a twenty-foot high fence or else higher up where the stanchions blocked your view. We went high and found a spot from where we were able to see both goals.

Kick off was delayed for ten minutes due to a floodlight failure, but that just helped the atmosphere to build as more people made their way in and anticipation heightened. I didn’t see any Bali fans, not surprisingly I suppose given the distances involved, but the bottom of the league Medan side, PSMS, had supporters singing behind both goals.

The support was constant, particularly from the end to our right, whilst the fans sat around us had an odd tendency to yelp whenever a chance looked imminent.

The standard of play wasn’t up to much and with the ball frantically flying around, I think Willo Flood’s familiarity with the fast pace of Scottish football would have stood him in good stead in this league.

Bali opened the scoring ten minutes into the second half when a hopeful lob back into the box beat the offside trap. Having made the breakthrough the visitors then quickly added a second. PSMS pulled one back from the spot with twenty minutes left but they didn’t quite have the quality to kick on and take a point.

Angkor Tiger v Svay Rieng, Saturday 21st July 2018, 3.30pm

August 2, 2018

One of the places that most visitors to Asia have on their must see list is the Angkor Wat temples in Cambodia. For a long time I had little interest on the basis that I’d seen loads of temples when I lived in Korea and more often than not they bored me shitless.

I think what eventually won me over to the idea of having a look at Angkor Wat was the worry that whenever in the future I ran into someone who had been ‘travelling’ they would shake their head sadly and tell me how much I’d missed out. I decided that if I’d been I could at least cut them short with “Seen it, just another temple”.

Except, when we did get around to going a couple of months ago, it was anything but just another temple. So much so that I quickly booked a return visit to see a bit more of the area. Of course, I checked to see if there was any football going on and pleasingly there was. As impressive as the temples are, a weekend is usually better if there is a match in the mix.

We’d hired a driver on both visits, but turned down a guide as the benefit of knowledgeable insights would likely be outweighed by the yapping needed to impart the information. I much prefer to wander around looking at stuff in peace, even at the expense of not necessarily knowing what I’m looking at.

Whilst Angkor Wat had been understandably busy on that first visit, it didn’t take too much effort to find areas where there were very few people about. Perhaps it was because we avoided the sunrise and sunset crowds and pitched up in the middle of the day.

The main site had numerous courtyards and corridors, with quite detailed wall carvings and plenty of statues. Other nearby areas were equally impressive, especially the buildings that had trees growing out of them.

As good as the temples were, the experience was improved by the presence of monkeys. Particularly the young ones bathing in a puddle or the even younger ones testing their mother’s patience with their recklessness.

There were also bats in one of the towers. We smelled them before we saw them. At first I thought some badly behaved monk had just taken a piss in a quiet corner but we soon realised that the stench was bat urine. We watched them coming and going for a while, doing our best not to stand beneath any of them.

On that first trip we did some eating and drinking in the pub street area, including some frog’s legs in what is clearly still a very french influenced area. We also had draft beers for fifty cents, pricing which I imagine would horrify any bar owner in Paris.

Second time we ended up in a cocktail bar where the drinks were a little more expensive but the dim sum made up for it.

There’s more to Siem Reap than just Angkor Wat and so for our non-football stuff on the second trip we headed out to Beng Mealea. It’s an unrestored ruined temple about an hour’s drive away and billed as an Indiana Jones-type place.

I think I liked Beng Mealea better than the main Angkor Wat temples. It was a lot smaller and we were able to do an initial circuit around the perimeter. The jungle had reclaimed a lot of the stonework, with arches collapsed under pressure from tree roots and with piles of carved stones cascading down by the outer walls.

After a lap of the exterior, we took the elevated walkway that winds through the inside of the temple. I was surprised at how few visitors were doing the same and quite often we got stretches of the path entirely to ourselves. Most of the other visitors were Chinese tour parties or couples where the dynamic seemed to be that of pro photographer and model rather than boyfriend and girlfriend.

After a quick stir-fry lunch that consisted mainly of ginger we were off to the game in the C-League, the Cambodian top-tier. Our driver parked up right next to the main stand alongside the tv outside broadcast van.

We still had an hour or so until kick-off, but there were already people buzzing around outside. A line of stalls sold snacks, drinks and shirts. We bought a shirt for our grandson as I thought the combination of the orange colour and a tiger badge would be something that he’d go for.

There wasn’t a separate ticket office, just a couple of young girls sat by the entrance taking money. It was a dollar to get in, although I think that was just for the covered main stand admission. It looked as if you could watch for free from the open terracing that curved towards the goals.

There were already quite a few people inside, no doubt keen to be under cover if the rain came. A group of young lads next to us all had a few tickets each. They were different to the stubs that we had and were probably complimentary. If that’s what it takes to get people watching, I’m all for it. It may have worked as the attendance was eventually announced as being over fourteen hundred.

The warm up was more interesting than most with the ref practicing his hand actions, pacing out imaginary free kicks and then waving invisible players away. I hope that whilst he was visualising aspects of the upcoming game he was dealing with the likes of Pele or Maradona. “I said ten yards, Diego. Now.”

Angkor Tiger were in orange with Svay Rieng in a blue kit. A fella in the crowd told me that the visitors had endured a six-hour bus journey to reach Siem Reap. That doesn’t seem like ideal preparation. The pitch wasn’t ideal either with the lack of grass in the goalmouths a throwback to how all pitches used to be once you got beyond the first few weeks of the season.

Svay Rieng had a couple of players who stood out, mainly for their appearance. Their keeper, Dimitry Asnin from Belarus, appeared to be about a foot taller than everyone else on the field and he looked a good twenty years older than most of the other players. My first thought was that it was Dave Beasant’s dad.

The other fella to stand out for the visitors was their beardy left-winger Harley Willard. He’s a young English lad who last played for Maidstone. Fair play to him for travelling to Cambodia for a contract. Maybe he fancied seeing the temples.

Tiger opened the scoring in the first half when a cross was turned in too low down for the wrong-footed Beasant Senior to reach. He seemed pretty pissed off about it but no doubt cheered up later after making two very good saves at full stretch that I doubt a shorter keeper would have reached.

Angkor held their lead into the second half until a cross from Willard was nodded home by Svay Rieng’s Brazilian striker. I reckon the header was probably going wide but it hit a rut in the goalmouth and turned sharply to just sneak in at the back post.

There were no more goals and it finished up even. It was a decent effort from both sides, although I couldn’t help but smile at the thought that in the previous game I’d been to I’d been watching Lionel Messi drag Argentina out of the group stages of the World Cup. That’s some contrast.