Archive for June, 2024

Borussia Dortmund v Standard Liege, Tuesday 9th January 2024, 11am

June 13, 2024

My second winter-break friendly was at the Marbella Football Centre. I had fully intended to be there early but my sat nav had clearly mixed up the complex with somewhere else. By the time I arrived the field that had been allocated for spectator’s parking was full and I had to U-turn in a country lane, retrace my route and park in a nearby housing estate.

Despite all that I still made the main gate with around twenty minutes to spare. Unfortunately, I found myself facing the same situation as the previous day with an all-ticket fixture and none available on the day of the game. Most people without tickets were simply turning away and trudging back to their cars, but I hung around, chatted to a girl with a clipboard and a pile of envelopes and eventually wore her down to the extent that she agreed to let me have a ticket if she still had some that were uncollected by kick-off time.

My persistence worked again and as the opening whistle sounded she handed me a ticket and I made my way into the ground. Only half of the stadium appeared to be open, with four rows of uncovered seats along one side already fairly fully occupied.

With the demand for tickets, it was disappointing that the remaining areas weren’t opened, or somewhere with a larger capacity selected. I found a seat towards one end and settled in just as the rain began.

Borussia Dortmund were in their usual yellow and black. I’ve no idea what colours Standard Liege normally wear, but they were in grey for this game. I’m not really up to speed with who normally plays for each team either, so I couldn’t tell if the sides were at full-strength of not.

The news reports had suggested that Jadon Sancho might be imminently rejoining Dortmund on loan, but I didn’t spot him either on the pitch or in the crowd.

As you might have expected, the game was played at an easy pace. Nobody really stood out apart from one player who might very well have won his spot in the side in a competition. Maybe he was working his way back to fitness. Dortmund went ahead early on, but the teams went in level at the break after Standard Liege equalised after a cross from the left was steered home.

I’d have got myself a coffee at half-time, but the queues were too long. Instead I sheltered from the rain under some tenting that more usually would be providing shade.

The Belgians went ahead on the hour and then with minimal celebrating all eleven of their players were subbed off. Dortmund limited themselves to just the five changes at that time. Thankfully the fourth official was excused numbers board duties or we’d have been there all day.

With the fresh legs providing some impetus, there were another three goals. The final one coming right at the end from Dortmund to allow them to nick a three-all draw. Although, I doubt very much anyone really cared about the result.

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Fortuna Dusseldorf v FC Dordrecht, Monday 8th January 2024, 4pm

June 12, 2024

I realise at first glance that this game might suggest that I’ve nipped across to Germany, but it’s the winter break in a lot of the European leagues and instead of me traipsing around, the games are coming to me. Or at least they are now that I’d driven the two and half hours from Seville to Fuengirola.

I’d selected a spot on the Costa del Sol to take advantage of the various training camps that were accommodating friendly games and the wide choice of places to stay meant that I could pick up a cheap apartment for eight days and combine the fixtures with actually getting some work done.

The first game was at La Quinta in Marbella. It’s an area out of town that has a golf club and a few training facilities. I struggled at first to find the pitch but eventually stumbled across the cars parked roadside that would have no other reason to be there.

I made my way to the entrance gate only to be told that admission was by ticket only and that tickets weren’t on general sale. They were handed out as freebies to genuine supporters of each team who had contacted the clubs in advance. I put on my best downcast expression and then spent a few minutes chatting to the Dusseldorf guy in charge of distributing them. He eventually took pity on me and agreed that if there was a spare left over as kick-off approached, then I could have it.

In the end I didn’t have to wait too long as I think the fella just wanted rid of me and I took up a place on one of the two rows of bench seating behind a rope and along one side of the pitch. I was in with the Germans who had travelled to support Fortuna. There were also a few fans from the second-tier Dutch side, Dordrecht.

I was offered a beer on a few different occasions but had to decline as I was driving. I don’t think the Germans could grasp that someone might want to attend the game without a few beers. The Dutch side opened the scoring after five minutes, but nobody cared. It was all about the chat and the drink.

The natural order was soon restored with four first-half Fortuna goals and at the break the guy next to me, Christophe, headed into town for more supplies. We didn’t see him again until five minutes from full-time, when he returned with beer, wine, ice and chocolate.

Christophe didn’t miss any second-half goals, but by the time he returned there had been wholesale subs on the hour, with Dordrecht changing their entire team.

It was just as pleasant an atmosphere on the pitch, with good-humoured interaction with the ref and minimal simulation. Everyone, bar me, hung around at full-time and I later discovered that it had been pre-planned that the sides would come back on and play an additional thirty minutes regardless of the score. That meant every player got an hour on the pitch. Fortuna banged in a couple more goals in that extra period for a six-two victory.

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Real Betis v Granada, Sunday 7th January 2024, 2pm

June 11, 2024

I’d had a couple of days in Seville without a game due to a misunderstanding as to where Huesca was. I’d thought it was an hour’s drive down the road, but that’s Huelva. Huesca is actually around a thousand kilometres north and attending the game there would have needed two lengthy train journeys either side of an overnight stay. That mistake added to my list of redundant match tickets impulsively purchased without properly checking the details.

Saturday was ok though in that I found a bar where I could watch the FA Cup third round games. I saw the early kick-off between Sunderland and Newcastle, where I don’t think there’s an outcome that I couldn’t have taken some pleasure from and then the Boro’s game against Villa. We did well against Premier League opposition, certainly better than Sunderland did, holding them until three minutes from time when a spawny deflection knocked us out of the competition.

I had hoped to see two games on the Sunday but the kick-off times didn’t quite work and so I settled for just the one, a women’s game between Real Betis and Granada in the top-tier Primera Femenino at the Ciudad Deportiva Luis Del Sol.

My route took me along the river and through a funfair. I remembered taking the same path twelve years earlier to see the Betis men’s team and on that occasion, I ignored my phone and took what I thought was a short cut. As ever, it wasn’t the wisest of decisions and I found myself stuck in some dockyard before having to retrace my steps. I did as directed this time and eventually found myself outside the Betis men’s stadium.

I was relieved to see people parking their cars at the main stadium on the basis that the ground that I actually wanted wouldn’t be too much further on. It wasn’t and I soon had a five-euro ticket. I bought a drink and a snack outside, just in case there was nothing available inside and then headed into the main stand.

It was free seating and most of the crowd that eventually swelled to a few hundred chose seats in the lower tier. We were in the shade so it was fairly chilly. It’s so difficult to gauge how warm it’s going to be in Spain in January and a choice of sun or shade would have made life easier.

Granada, in blue, were fighting relegation, with Betis, in their standard green and white, safely in the top half of the table. Despite the difference in status, it was the visitors that opened the scoring ten minutes in from a close-range header.

Betis increased the pressure and were level mid-way through the first half. The Granada keeper did well to turn away the first effort, then parried the rebound, but third time’s the charm as a Betis striker finally applied the finish.

At half-time I bought what I thought were peanuts and was half right. They’d been cut with some sort of maize snack. Who would ever think that’s a good idea?

I watched the second half from the upper tier where I was able to benefit from the winter sun on my back. Granada regained the lead with a shot from outside the box before Betis levelled again from a little closer to goal.

With time running out and both side pushing for a winner, Granada won a penalty. The Betis goalie got down well to save it, but the penalty taker was first to the rebound and tucked it away to clinch the points.

I gambled on a different route back to the city centre through a park and barely got lost at all, so a good day all around.

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Sevilla v Athletic Bilbao, Thursday 4th January 2024 7.15pm

June 10, 2024

After the overnight visits to Algeciras and Sanlucar, I had a more leisurely four-night stay in Seville. It’s a city that I liked when Jen and I spent a few days visiting back in 2012. Twelve years ago. Where does the time go?

My hotel was bang in the middle of the old town and so once again parking was an issue. The allocated hotel parking required me to use a tiny car lift to access my spot and so I left it there for the entire four days and just made my way around the city on foot.

Seville still seemed to be celebrating Christmas and New Year, with the Three Kings festivities culminating on the sixth of January now added into the mix. My first game of the visit was a La Liga fixture at Sevilla’s Ramon Sanchez-Pizjuan stadium. It was about an hour’s walk and it took me past a couple of presumably well-known cathedrals. It was a route that had also been selected for a Three Kings parade and so I had to fight my way through the crowds who were waiting to scramble for the sweets thrown by the parades.

Most of those in the procession were in ‘blackface’, a tradition that I thought might well have died out by now. Spain seems slower at adapt to modern sensibilities than, say, the UK, but I expect that they’ll get there eventually.

I’d been lucky with the weather earlier in the day, but as I approached the ground the rain grew heavier. I regretted my choice of seat which, despite costing sixty euros, was in the uncovered Volodizo Fondo, or as Google Translate informs me, the cantilever bottom. It was a decent enough view, along the side and in the lower part of the upper tier, but as the rain became torrential the lack of a roof meant that there was no way I was going to leave the concourse until the teams were ready to kick-off.

Most of the fans around me were in wet weather gear. Some had those plastic ponchos, others had brought in umbrellas. The rain would have been fantastic to play in, but it was less enjoyable for watching. Fortunately, it eased after ten minutes or so, but returned intermittently throughout the evening.

Sevilla didn’t play well at all, and Bilbao went a goal up in the first half to the delight of the away fans behind me to my left. I’d seen a few of them around town earlier in the day, making the most of the holiday. They’d done well to pace themselves for an evening kick-off.

I was surprised at how poor Sevilla were. There was no fight in them, and players often didn’t track back or make tackles that they could have done. They looked like a team in danger of going down.

Bilbao added a second goal close to the end to seal the victory and the Sevilla fans that remained to the end weren’t happy at all. Sergio Ramos took some stick from the stands during his post-match pitch-side interview. It seems that he still hadn’t won over the home fans.  Maybe he should have tossed them some sweets.

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Atletico Sanluqueno v Castellon, Wednesday 3rd January 2024, 4pm

June 9, 2024

After a night in the port town of Algeciras I drove north-west for an hour and a half to another town on the coast, Sanlúcar de Barrameda. It’s one more of those places that I doubt that I’d have ever visited were it not for the football. My hotel was in the old town, which was a pain in the arse for parking, so I dumped the car in the underground hotel car park and left it there until I moved on.

Everyone in Sanlucar, with the exception of those working in hospitality or shops, appeared to be on holiday and were out and about on the streets. In the main square there was a funfair and some sort of barbering event where most of the town were getting their holiday haircuts.

I had a mooch about, although I couldn’t find anywhere that I fancied for lunch and ended up eating a sandwich on a park bench.

The game that I was in town for was about half an hour’s walk from the centre. I’d already bought my ticket online for eighteen euros and all I had to do was follow the directions on my phone to El Palmer stadium. I found it easily enough, pausing every now and then to read the posters on lampposts seeking information on missing sausage dogs and budgerigars.

My plan to walk around the outside of the stadium backfired a bit as the route took me some distance from the ground before I eventually looped back around. Still, it’s all steps.

As with yesterday’s game, this was a fixture in the Third Division South. Atletico Sanluqueno, in fifteenth place, were taking on top of the table Castellon. Fifteenth place could almost seem mid-table to an optimistic observer, but with five relegation spots in a twenty team league Sanlucqueno were clearly in a battle to avoid the drop.

My seat was in the Preferential stand, down the side. There were six rows of uncovered seating, opposite the main covered stand. The blokes around me were all drinking canas, those smaller than half pint measures of beer, that are popular over here. If I’d wanted a drink I’d have got a pint, rather than have to squeeze past everyone twice as often for a thimbleful.

Other fellas were standing next to the seats and smoking weed. I’m not sure what the law is about public consumption over here, but nobody, including the police and stewards, seemed interested.

Sanluqueno were in green and white stripes with the visitors in a black kit. I’m familiar with Castellon as being Mendieta’s first club. It’s also somewhere that I’d stayed with my daughter, Soph, when the Boro played Villareal in our first UEFA campaign, nearly twenty years ago. It’s a quiet, pleasant coastal town, not too dissimilar from Sanlucar.

Castellon went a goal up in the opening minutes. It might have been a Sanluqueno own goal or maybe the lanky centre forward got a touch on the line. A combination of poor Castellon finishing and some outstanding work from the Sanluqueno goalie kept it down to a single goal lead for the visitors at the break.

Sanluqueno never seemed out of the game and a Castellon red card a couple of minutes from time gave them some hope of a late comeback. It wasn’t to be though and in added time a cross driven into the Sanluqeno six yard box was turned into his own goal by a defender to put the result beyond doubt.

The goal sparked fury amongst the home fans, who for some reason had high expectations of getting something out of the visit of the league leaders. I think they might have benefited from less beer and more spliffs.

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Algeciras v Recreativo de Huelva, Tuesday 2nd January 2024, 7pm

June 7, 2024

With Jen in the US and my work all being remote, there was very little incentive to hang about in the UK. A flight to Malaga meant instantly better weather and after picking up a hire car I headed down the coast to Algeciras.

It’s a port town, with ferries across to North Africa. If I’d planned ahead a little better, I could have taken in a game in Morocco the following day. As I’d already made future hotel and match ticket bookings, I stuck with my original plan instead and had a wander through an industrial estate to the Estadio Nuevo Mirador.

The fixture was in the Primera Division Group 2 which is basically the third division south. You can’t really get much further south in Spain than where I was without getting your feet wet. Home side Algeciras, in sixth place, were taking on visitors Recreativo de Huelva, who were one place and two points ahead of them in the table.

The ground holds 7,300 people with one big, covered stand and eight rows of uncovered seating running around the rest of the stadium. I was in the eighth row, but as we were all raised up a few feet, it would have been a decent view even from the front row. Algeciras were in that classic Spanish combination of red and white shirts with blue shorts, with Recreativo in blue and white stripes.

There were plenty of New Year greetings going on and a decent turnout from the away side behind the goal to my right. The Algeciras mascot was putting himself about, although I couldn’t work out what he was meant to be. He most resembled a gate post, which seems unlikely, but perhaps a sponsor was a fencing contractor.

Recreativo squandered some very good chances early on before eventually taking the lead ten minutes into the second half. It looked miles offside to me, with possibly even two of their players straying well beyond the last defender, but with no VAR in the third tier it counted.

The visitors should have put the game beyond the reach of Algeciras, squandering multiple chances. It came back to haunt them a quarter of an hour from time when the home side equalised.

The joy around me was short-lived as a shot from the edge of the box moments later restored Recreativo’s lead. That was the cue for people to head off home. The home fans that stayed were rewarded with a second equaliser after some pinball in the box before Recreativo took the lead for a third occasion in added time to nick the points. That one looked offside as well.

It was a great evening for visiting fans and neutrals like me, but not such a happy new year for the home supporters.

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Middlesbrough v Coventry City, Monday 1st January 2024 3pm

June 5, 2024

I don’t usually drink at all if I’m driving but with an invitation to join Tom and his mate Murgy pre-match in the Riverside fanzone I brought dry January to an end fourteen hours into the month. Mind you, I’m not entirely convinced that a single pint of 3.8% Theakston’s Best Bitter is sufficient to count.

Harry and Alistair were with me and as we chatted to Paddy and his missus, we discovered that their granddaughter was in Harry’s class at school. Small world.

Pre-match conversation centred around the injuries, as it so often does. We also had the international call ups for the African Cup of Nations and the Asia Cup to add a further disruption to team selection.

Josh Coburn put us a goal up after a spell of sustained pressure. He’s looking a handful for defenders these days and has a nice trick of grabbing them but making it look like they are fouling him. Some refs fall for it. Rogers looked good again and seems to have gained the confidence to run laterally with the ball if there was nothing on ahead of him. I think he’s probably our best option at ten, although when Crooks is fit I’d like him back in somewhere too.

Coventry equalised soon after we had scored and then notched another two in the second half when we weren’t nearly as good as before the break. I think a lot of the players are tired and there’s little prospect of rotation with the current absentee list. Ali wasn’t impressed with the result and reminded Harry and I on the way out that he’s still a Man City fan. Hopefully we’ll get a few returning players and a couple of new signings in January to turn the corner and convert him.

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Farsley Celtic v Scunthorpe United, Saturday 30th December 2023 3pm

June 4, 2024

Initially, I had a few options for a game. I’d thought about watching Harrogate Railway Athletic and having some tea and cake at Betty’s. Or maybe combining a game at Knaresborough Town with a visit to Mother Shipton’s Cave. Unfortunately, the cave was shut for the winter and then both games failed pitch inspections.

There seemed little point in enduring the Harrogate traffic just for a slice of Battenberg and so instead I drove further south for Farsley Celtic’s sixth-tier National League North fixture against Scunthorpe United. I’d read that they were expecting their biggest crowd for years, presumably a combination of the holiday season and a large contingent of away fans. With that in mind I bought my ticket online for fifteen quid in advance. If I’d been a year older, I’d have got pensioner rates. Scary, especially as I’ve still got a valid student card. I’m not sure they are meant to overlap.

I followed the parking advice which was to leave the car in the town centre and then walk for fifteen minutes or so to the Citadel ground.  It was previously known as the Throstle’s Nest, holds 3,900 and dates back to 1948. There wasn’t any segregation but most of the Scunthorpe fans congregated in the covered terrace behind one of the goals. Others mixed with the locals in seats behind the goal or along the side.

We had a pre-match presentation for the Farsley captain, to mark his impending three-hundredth appearance for the club. He got a decent round of applause, despite most people’s attention still being on securing a pint or some food.

The team announcements revealed that ex-Boro midfielder Jacob Butterfield was on the bench for Scunthorpe. With a name like that I’d always thought him better suited to being a Thomas Hardy character than a footballer. I’d watched him the previous season turning out for St Johnstone against Hibs in the Scottish Premier. Farsley was a fair contrast from playing at Ibrox or Parkhead, but maybe not too different in terms of atmosphere from some of St Johnstone’s home fixtures. I like it when a player drops down the divisions to keep on playing.

I should have got some lunch in town as the queues at the food hut in the ground were far too long and I was keen to secure a spot on the rail. However, the lure of Korean crispy chicken loaded fries was enough for me to give up my spot not long after kick-off and re-join the queue on the other side of the pitch.  That area was elevated and so I had a better view of the action as the snaking line shortened.

I got chatting to a fan from Scunthorpe who had lived in Farsley for the past thirty-five years. The time away and a friend’s son in the Farsley side had diluted his loyalties to the extent that, like me, he didn’t care which team won.

Scunthorpe opened the scoring in the first half. It was the cue for a lot of their fans to hurl their pints in the air. FFS. That’s a trend that I’m never going to understand. It was quickly followed by a double sending off after a skirmish. The ref only spotted the retaliation, but the lino was wise to the original offence and advised him to send the other fella off too.

The second half was delayed due to a medical emergency in the crowd. I wonder if that’s how I’ll eventually croak? Stood in the rain at a football game? If it is, I hope it will be at a Boro fixture, so people don’t find out that I’ve got a weird hobby of driving for an hour and half to watch teams that I’ve no allegiance to. They’d probably feel obliged to have a minutes silence at the next game despite nobody having a clue who I was. I suppose it’s better than being eaten by a bear.

With the rain coming down I squeezed into the covered terrace with the away fans where I witnessed a second goal for Scunthorpe and the three-hundred game home captain get his marching orders. I doubt he’d envisaged that end to his day when receiving his pre-match mementoes an hour or so earlier.

Jacob Butterfield didn’t make it off the bench. Maybe I’ll see him next year a division or two further down the pyramid, ideally in the Wessex League for Casterbridge Town or someone. I’ll look forward to it.

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