A blog as @MossInBerlin travels through eastern Europe to the early qualification games to the World’s biggest club competition: The Champions League (proper).
I have a particular thirst for football and traveling throughout eastern European, and having already combined the two for Euro 2012 and Manchester United’s 2008 Champions League success, another adventure was required. I had a large swathe of south eastern Europe yet to be trodden by my feet, and the timing could coincide with the qualification rounds for the Europa League and Champions League, where a plethora of teams battle it out for the prestige, honour, and of course in modern football, the hefty meal ticket of making the competitions (proper).
With the research undertaken, and a route to incorporate the travel side, the first match was decided. GNK Dinamo Zagreb vs CS Fola Esch in the first leg of the Champions League 2nd Qualifying Round, at the Stadion Maksimir in Zagreb, capacity in the region of 35,123. Both teams where the respective champions from the Croatian and Luxembourgian leagues.
We approached the stadium with around an hour until kick off, we were a little late getting into Zagreb and still didn’t have our tickets, pre match beers or the croatian equivalent to pie and chips.
We scouted the ticket office out, the queue phenomenal. I dumped my mate, Hutch, off to get tickets, before stocking up on beer and a sturdy deep fried chorizo style sausage stuffed into a hot dog with mayo, mustard and ketchup. Everyone else was chomping these things, I assumed we should too.
The outside of Stadion Maksimir, bube tube and all, with flare for show.
As we surveyed the outside of the stadium, adorned with the club shirt, and over the concrete, marginal attempts to pretty the main stand with only what I can describe as a glass boob tube, something rumbled beyond background noise, growing in volume, eventually turning into the familiar sound of strong football chanting, as suddenly, fans started drifting past us, totalling several thousand; chanting, drinking, smoking, slurring, dancing and marching, only the occasional woman amongst the nationalistic fans, mainly dressed in black and many sporting skinheads and tattoos.
The fans gathered at the front of stadium and the volume somehow increased, bellowing, blaring, flares now alight, the smoke billowing upwards. Then, surprisingly, the fans marched back past us, same volume as before, just a few minutes before kick off… a protest against something the board were doing, the answer to those that answered our inquiry. Ah, eastern European football politics. Ah, World football politics.
The inner concrete shell of the stadium under the main stand.
We picked up our tickets, which were assigned to and had our names printed on, with the production of ID, to the price of about £2.50, and entered the stadium, a cavernous concrete shell, shortly before kick off, lack of Champions League anthem or flailing Champions League football flag felt like a failing of football. These players and fans deserved the credence associated with the tournament, even if it wasn’t “proper”.
The game started at a lethargic tempo, but the underdog, Fola Esch, sponsored by Emirates Airlines like such giants as Arsenal, Real Madrid, AC Milan and, erm, Hamburg SV, were actually in the ascendancy; controlling and closing down the opposition but not committing too eagerly, then to break quickly on the counter when possession was retained.
The game flowed slightly better, the disciplined Fola Esch won a free kick, and after some sloppy defending, they took the lead with a poked goal past Portugal’s intermittent international, Eduardo. The goalscorer was Samir Hadji, son of former Premier League stalwart, Mustapha. All seven fans in the away end were fairly imperturbable.
Dinamo woke up and started to work the ball better and with fluidity. A chance came, and went, much to the home crowd’s appreciation, as the volume in the stadium raised.
Three fans watch in agony as the game continues late into the second half.
Minutes later a flowing moved was finished by new signing and former Manchester United player, Ángelo Henríquez, as he slid in converting a drilled cross that cut both the goalkeeper and defender out.
Half time came and there was applause, which we had heard a couple of times. We deduced this signified an ironic/sarcastic response to the current score.
The second half started marginally livelier, but not the sort of reaction you’d expect from the team who competed in the group stages in the 2014-2015 competition.
The second half struggled along, when suddenly, scandal. CS Fola Esch were reduced to ten men, a tangled challenge in the middle, not ugly or mistimed by any stretch, resulted in a red for the captain and Cape Verde international Ronny. The game had seen worse challenges that didn’t receive even an award of a free kick, the away bench incensed, the home fans relieved: a potential opportunity.
Empty stand. Ultras and atmosphere missing.
With ten men, CS Fola Esch still managed to retain possession and looked the livelier team. Their game plan changed slightly, with the ball being run into wide channels, with the wide players holding up play, the focus on retaining possession.
Zagreb pushed and toiled away at Fola Esch, but couldn’t break them down and despite 5 minutes of injury time, were unable to score a second goal of the night.
The game was meagre in standard, style and acoustic, the lack of ultras matching with the lack of quality, the game ending in an average 1-1 draw; the home contingent not happy at the final whistle, with their own whistles added to the referees.
We trooped off, happy to have got some football, but we were expecting more of the Ultra’s passion, but on this performance their protest is probably justified. Maybe the Ultras would have added something to the atmosphere, which was nothing short of dull. This was not close to the passionate pinnacle of eastern European football, that was, maybe, to come.