Posts Tagged ‘Vietnam football league’

Viettel v Binh Phuoc, Saturday 29th September 2018, 3pm

March 19, 2019

In our time over here we’d only been to Vietnam once, a trip to Saigon a year or so earlier. It was an interesting place so we thought we’d see if Hanoi was just as good.  Turn out that it is, with the added benefit of being to gawp at the actual remains of their former leader Ho Chi Minh, rather than just wander around somewhere like his 1970’s decorated palace searching in vain for the advertised elephant’s foot umbrella stand.

The walk through Mr. Minh’s mausoleum was very well-managed. The queue snaked through the grounds for a few hundred yards but under covered walkways. It was kept moving at a good pace by some very smartly dressed soldiers and once inside, as you might imagine, there was extremely chilly air-conditioning. You weren’t allowed to talk or take photos, in fact you weren’t allowed to do anything but walk. Jen was told off for crossing her arms whilst I did my best to stifle a cough.

The route eventually ended up in a dimly-lit room with a corpse in a bed. He looked a bit like his photo on the main stand at the game we went to later, but a little waxier.

Other highlights were a big lake near to our hotel surrounded by eating and drinking establishments. The roads were closed off for the weekend to allow people to stumble around with less chance of being killed by the traffic.

We walked to the match on the Saturday afternoon and had to dodge scooters on the pavement as well as cars on the roads. We also had to dodge a bloke smoking a bamboo pipe that was at least a foot long.

The Hang Day stadium is pretty run down, but that’s the way I like them. We arrived about an hour before kick-off and there were lots of people milling around the main entrance. Vendors were selling snacks that may have been cooked a while ago and were unprotected from flies. You could wash them down with something cold. Or at least you would be able to if the cans and bottles weren’t just sitting in the sun rather than a cool box or fridge.

As we had sufficient time we did a circuit of the stadium. It was quieter around the back and we spotted a couple of soldiers. They seemed much more relaxed than the ones on duty at the funeral home.

If we’d been inclined we could have had haircuts at the back corner of the ground. That’s something the Boro should start offering during matches. I reckon there would be a decent queue of people keen to escape watching the soul-destroying set-up of five centre halves and four defensive midfielders taking turns to lump the ball forward to a single striker ill-equipped to do anything with it.

Anyway, this game was free to get in to and the sounds of partying that we’d heard coming from inside were due to the home side Viettel having already clinched the second division championship with a couple of games to spare. Not quite Charlton’s Champions but you take what you can get.

There were two tier stands down each side, with open terracing to our right and a wall to the left that backed on to housing. Potential there for “Once more and we’ll stick a knife in it”. The home fans were celebrating their promotion with their band and by waving a variety of flags. The carnival atmosphere was mirrored on the pitch where Viettel, in white, seemed to be applying the ‘Tuncay’ rule whereby the build up to any chance must include at least one fancy but ineffective flick. Binh Phuoc were in green shirts with a red band. Or red shirts with a green yoke. Hard to say really. Either way the best chances in the half went to the hosts, but poor finishing and some decent keeping kept it goalless at the break.

Our first half viewpoint in the stand opposite the tunnel had become less attractive as the sun got lower. When it began to shine through the gaps in the structure on to the backs of our heads we were forced to move to an area where the sun was blocked by a stairwell. At half time we took the opportunity to move upstairs and take advantage of the better shade provided by the roof.

The excitement level rose soon after the restart when the away coach was sent to the stands. Maybe the sun had been a bit much for him too. It didn’t seem to change much on the pitch though as the champions continued to press ineffectually for a goal to complete the coronation.

With a quarter of an hour to play it was the turn of the players to lose their composure. We had a minute or two of argy-bargy before Binh Phuoc switched off from the subsequent free-kick and an unmarked header put Viettel a goal up. It sparked just the sort of celebrations that you’d expect.

A few minutes later another header doubled their lead and we sloped out leaving them to it. Game and season over.

HCMC v Hai Phong, Saturday 18th March 2017, 5.30pm

April 13, 2017

Vietnam is another of those handy to get to destinations. Or at least it is if you are starting from Kuala Lumpur and only going as far as Ho Chi Minh City. Our flight lasted less than two hours and from the air I was able to see the canals and channels of the Mekong Delta.

We’d arranged electronic visas in advance but whilst mine worked fine, there was no record of Jen’s. The immigration fellas were pretty good about it though and simply made a note on her printed copy that I assume said something like ‘looks ok to me’.

We saw a few of the sights. The war museum struck me as a little biased, as I’m sure both sides were more than capable of the odd atrocity. It’s the winners who get to decide the history though, particularly in their own country.

We also had a wander along to the Presidential Palace in the hope of seeing some seventies furnishings and an umbrella stand made from an elephant’s foot. No such luck unfortunately, but we did get to go upstairs, look out onto the front lawn and imagine the tanks breaking down the front gates as Saigon fell to the forces from the north.

Good as all that was, I was primarily in town for the match and with the pavements seeming to accommodate as many scooters as the roads we took a taxi for the short journey to the twenty thousand capacity Thong Nhat stadium.

It was fairly busy outside and as we stepped out of the cab we were met by a tout who wanted a hundred thousand dongs for each of the two tickets that he had for the main stand. As that works out at three quid fifty a pop I wasn’t really too bothered about whatever mark-up he’d added and was quite happy to take them off his hands.

A later scrutiny of the tickets revealed that they had a face value of seventy thousand and so we’d paid an extra quid for the convenience of not having to find the ticket office.

There were plenty of fans in our covered stand and around five hundred or so home fans on the terrace opposite. They had a brass band and fireworks. Proper fireworks with showers of sparks, not just smoke flares.

Up at the back of the home fans terrace were a small group with a union jack that identified them as the Ho Chi Minh City UK Supporters Club. I presume they now live locally in Saigon rather than travelling to games from the UK, but you never know. It’s a funny old game, as Greavsie used to say, and you’ve got to get your fix whatever way you can.

There was a decent turnout from the visitors too, although I’ve no idea how far their hundred and fifty or so supporters had to travel. They had a high flag to fan ratio and every now and then would run across the terracing behind the goal waving their colours in a half-hearted attempt at riling the home support.

The home side were in red, with visitors Hai Phong in yellow. I didn’t think the standard of the top-tier game was too bad but maybe watching the Boro has lowered my expectations a little. The big number nine for Hai Phong put himself about a bit without ever really seeming to get the ball under control.

Ho Chi Minh had a skillful left-winger with a trick or two and a tendency to embarrass the defenders in a way that put him at risk of being launched into the distance.

Whilst the hosts had generally looked the most likely to score it was the away side that broke the deadlock when one of their strikers followed up his own saved shot and put them one up. Ho Chi Minh put the pressure on in the final minutes but the single goal was enough to seal the win for Hai Phong.

We flagged down a taxi and headed off for some nems.