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.
Trail of the Lion King 
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