Albania is somewhere that I’d always wanted to visit. I remember Attila the Stockbroker rattling on about it forty years ago and it sounding like a place that appeared to be a further forty years back in time.
Life moves on though, and whilst I passed a roadside shepherd on my taxi ride from the airport to Tirana centre, everything else was just as you’d expect in a modern capital city.
The place was so spruced up that I wondered why so many Albanians head for England. I had a chat with a bloke in a market who sold me what he assured me was top quality wine, albeit in a plastic bottle. He reckoned that despite the appearances of being a place on the up, the economy was in a bad way. Three of his brothers had already moved to England to work in a car wash in Leyton and he had firm plans to join them.
I had a choice of games in the last sixteen of the Cup, unfortunately both taking place at the same time. A barber that I went to suggested that I see his team, Partizan. They are the big club in town, but have a modern stadium and were an arse on to get to. Instead, I picked KF Tirana who were within walking distance of my hotel and play in a ground built in the mid-fifties.
I got there early. Too early, as it happened, as the ticket office hadn’t opened. I killed a bit of time with some lasagne for lunch before returning to hand over three hundred Leks for a ticket in the main covered stand. That’s two and a half quid.
I paid a further twenty leks for a paper wrap of blackened sunflower seeds from an old fella with a bike outside the entrance. When I look at the photo now, I reckon that he was younger than I am. FML as the bairns say. I usually like sunflower seeds, particularly if I’m not the one sweeping up, but removing the husks from these was a chew on. Literally. I tried eating the whole lot for the extra fibre but soon gave in.
It seemed as if just the one, covered, stand was open, with the rest of the ground empty. There was a grassy area behind each goal and that space to my left had been used for car parking. It reminded me of Stamford Bridge back when we relegated them.
The pitch looked as if it had been used as a car park too, with plenty of faded and bald areas.
Tirana were in white with Korabi in a red and white kit. The home side went in front just before the half-hour mark with a headed finish from a floated free-kick. It’s a shame they couldn’t have taken their time over it as two minutes later twenty Tirana ultras arrived in the corner to my right, on the far side. They were dressed mainly in black, hung up their ‘Tirana Ultras Forever’ banner and let off some flares.
At half-time they cleared off again. Perhaps their late arrival and early departure was some form of protest. Or maybe it’s just the latest ultra fashion. Who knows? At least they saw a goal in their short time watching as Tirana had added a second on the break.
I did spot a few of them sheepishly coming into our stand during the second half, presumably having made whatever point they were making. Tirana added a third shortly after the restart and that’s the way it finished.
Tags: Albanian football, Atilla the Stockbroker, premium wine in a plaggy bottle, Shepherds
Trail of the Lion King 
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