As I had a bit of spare time Jen and I decided to have a few days in Italy. We picked the small seaside town of Lido di Jesolo, which is just outside of Venice. It was great, just as you’d expect an Italian coastal resort to be as the summer season draws to an end. It wasn’t a completely random choice though as we were in town to see Paul Weller at the Palazzo del Turismo.
It’s a year since we saw him play a couple of venues in the UK and so we were overdue a catch-up. As anticipated, the show went well in a smallish all-seater venue. We were close to the front of the banked seating and within handy striking distance of a well-managed bar. It all went very well and we got to hear an as-yet unreleased song from what promises to be a new album for 2024. I liked Fat Pop better than anything else he’s done for the past couple of decades and if the new one is anywhere near as good, I’ll be very pleased.
I’d checked for nearby games and whilst there was an option to see second-tier Venezia in an old stadium that I’d like to visit someday, I was less keen to put up with the city crowds and the transport arse on for a late evening kick-off. In the end I settled on a fixture at Mestre, a suburb on the outskirts that appeared to serve mainly as a car park for those visiting the sights on the lagoon.
The match was at the Stadio Francesco Baracca in the fourth-tier Serie D. Mestre were taking on Montecchio Maggiore.
It was a fifteen-minute walk from where I’d parked up and whilst there wasn’t a steady steam of fans heading towards the ground, there were enough people who looked like they were going to the football to give me confidence that there was likely to be a game taking place.
My first attempt to find the entrance took me to around the heavily graffitied stadium to a point where I could only head away from the stands. I doubled back and tried the other way, eventually arriving at a gate where there were a handful of fellas, mainly dressed in black, drinking from cans and greeting others as they turned up.
I spotted a small kiosk that presumably sold tickets and as I made my way towards it, an old bloke intercepted me and offered the use of a spare season card that he had with him. He very generously refused to take any money.
Once inside I had the choice of joining the black-shirted fans behind the goal or a more sedate and shaded experience in the main covered stand. I opted for the latter. The ground is a hundred years old and prior to that served as a horseracing track. It would have been a tight circuit, unless some of the nearby buildings now cover some of the old route.
One feature that I wasn’t too keen on was the enormous fence between the fans and the pitch. I can appreciate that in Italy there’s a tendency to lob everything from coins to scooters at the opposition players and fans, but come on, this is fourth tier seating for old blokes.
Not a lot happened in the first half, with the highlight being some song that utilised the ‘Yellow Submarine’ tune. I find it amazing how many football songs, worldwide, are derived from English pop songs of the sixties.
We had to wait until seven minutes from time for Mestre to break the deadlock. A scrappy goal created enough elation for all the home subs to dash across the pitch and join the pile on. Four minutes later, and with the visitors pushing forward, a second goal on the break clinched the points for Mestre.
Trail of the Lion King 