Partizan 4-0 Rad Belgrade, att. 2,500 (Super Liga)
Welcome to....Partizan!
Being
in Belgrade for the weekend, the last leg of my holiday, how could I not go and
try and see one of the Big 2? And this
weekend, it was Partizan’s turn to be at home, in their 32,000 capacity Stadion
Partizani bowl. Just a shame it was only
me and two and a half thousand others who bothered. Too expensive? I doubt that very much. But since the break up of the old Yugoslav
Republic, there’s only one game worth waiting for all year: Red Star. However, tonite wasn't Red Star.
Outside the ground.
It was a promising start. Not only had I
caught the right bus (#31) from Hotel Moskva in the centre, I’d managed to get
off at the right stop, near Red Star’s stadium.
Belgrade is such a big place, yet both major stadiums are right near
each other. I enjoyed a circular of Red
Star’s stadium, peeking in through the gaps, before strolling to Partizan. Only one problem: I’d forgotten my passport. Seems I needed a passport, or some decent ID, to get me a ticket. Fortunately, the young lady in the ticket
booth took pity, judged I was harmless, and sold me a ticket for 400 (less than
4 quid). I scurried away, muttering
thanks. The stadium was another 100
metres on.I nipped
into the club shop, which only sold stuff in black. Good for hiding that figure, I thought. Then, as I headed up and round the stadium, I
heard the away fans arrive. About 100,
in good voice, with plenty of flags, and plenty of police escort. Rad were another, much smaller, team from
Belgrade.
Ultras' graffiti
Then it came to the search. Nevermind
handing over all your knives, you had to hand over all coins and pens. No-one argued. But who pocketed all the loose change
later? Serbian football must be in a bit
of a bind if fans aren’t allowed in with change.Inside,
there was little to spend your money on anyway.
A bloke set up a few coke bottles on a table on the concourse, ready to
pour into plastic beakers, while sunflower seed sellers floated around the
crowd.
All concrete and rust; Stadion Partizani.
Partizan’s stadium is an open bowl, with a row of executive facilities above
one side. Not much call for a roof in
these parts. The seats formed neat
stripes of black and white, though it all felt a bit like peas rattling around
a tunnel. The Partizan ultras were behind the goal, and probably took half the
support. The away contingent was to my
left, while a few hundred of us were interspersed by the touchline. Still, I do like to pick and choose my seat.The
match itself was a walkover. Rad’s
resistance lasted all of 3 minutes when
header from a cross broke the deadlock.
A sparse refreshment counter.
The lead doubled before half-time, another header, this time from a
corner. After the break, a free kick was
scored and the player went berserk, while a 4th was poked goalwards
from a corner, before being hammered in from close range. Rad were well beaten, but their fans carried
on singing and waving their flags. For
me, it was back into Belgrade city centre and £3.50 mojitos. Oh, and did I mention I was staying at the
hotel the Busby Babes were in before their fateful crash? No, I didn’t know either till I read their
blurb…
Having
been delayed two hours on a train (cos two trains were coming the other way, a
problem I’d have thought the Hungarian authorities could have figured out by
now) I should have hurried up to check-in and set off for the match. Instead, I relied on KO being 7, not 6. My gamble paid off.I’d
planned on walking to the Illovszky Rudolf Stadion, but it was a simple journey
by public transport. Take the M3 to
Forgach Utca. then turn right and right again out of the metro and walk down
Forgach Utca itself until you reach the stadium. 10 minutes, easy.
I see a stadium!
The
ticket office and turnstiles are right in front of you as you arrive, and basic
affairs they are too. No need for too
many turnstiles in Hungarian domestic football; tonite’s ‘derby’ would bring
around 4,000 people to a stadium which holds 4 times that.
Still, there’s an atmosphere. The fans
are either side of the pitch, with the end curves unused. Keeping their powder dry for a BIG game,
whenever that may be. After worries
about needing my passport to buy a ticket (I didn’t; good job since it was back
at the hotel) I was in, via my first of 3 searches at the stadium. Basically, every time you entered a new sector,
you got another search.
The ONLY (home) turnstiles.
As
the match had just kicked off, I went into the nearest stand. Turns out they were the ‘posh’ (only)
seats. Only seats in the home end,
anyway, though the away terrace had seats plonked at the back, though,
presumably, anyone wanting to sit wouldn’t be able to see for those in front,
standing.The
Main Stand was small, the half or dozen or so rows at the back seemingly added
as an afterthought. At least this bit of
cantilever is covered, unlike the vast amount of seating in front. The rest of the stadium is uncovered, though
the terracing didn’t show the neglect I expected. One quirk is a scoreboard at one end,
splitting the terrace. Odder still, the
players must march underneath this to reach the changing rooms, which are
technically outside of the stadium perimeter.
Cameraman, and behind him, the scoreboard.
Tonight,
the visitors were Honved, who brought a respectable 1,000. Respectable in Hungarian terms, but this was,
after all, a derby and they’re only a few stops apart on the metro. But, like many a secondary European football
nation (these days) it must be a mission of love and devotion supporting your
local teams when all the best players are schlepping around in some
economically superior foreign league.
Flicking through a few Hungarian football books earlier, the decline of
football in that country is apparent; black and white photos from the 1950s
showing packed stands and massive crowds juxtaposed with modern statistical analysis
showing anything but the size of the crowd.
Too embarrassing to mention these days. And
looking at players’ biographies, the A-Z of Hungarian footballers began and
ended with Ferenc Puskas and Zoltan Gera.
Looking towards the away fans.
Stadia
such as this at least contain some character.
I sat on the back row, though, having pushed past a few people to get to
my seat, I could hardly now leave for a beer.
That would wait till half time.
There was a buzz in the air.
After 5 games, Vasas were top of the league. Heady stuff.
Though I have to admit, I’d not heard of them till checking out the
fixtures. Ferencvaros, Honved, MTK,
Ujpest…yes. But Vasa played some good
football, before taking the lead with an absolute screamer. 25 yards out (at
least), it curved all over the place, giving the keeper no chance.
Half time, the players and officials head off.
At
half time I walked around the outside of the curve, behind the scoreboard. The beer queue was too long and I wanted to
see the rest of the stadium, as well as avoiding the intermittent screeching of
whoever the bugle belonged to in the main stand. There was also a drummer, yet the ultras were
to be found opposite, on the terrace.
Scoreboard and changing rooms.
In the same building as the changing rooms was the club shop. Small and busy. I’ll come back at full time. (Yes I would, and it’d be closed.) The main building of Vasas sportclub (a large
building behind the terrace) held refreshments facilities…as well as a
sportshall where the ladies handball team were practicing. I was tempted, but chose the beer
instead. I’d have welcomed a sausage
too, but the closest they came to a savoury snack was some bread.
Refreshments this way.
The
second half was mainly characterised by Vasas being unable to take any of a
myriad of opportunities on the break.
Honved were no threat and the match was finally sealed in comic
circumstances, as a soft shot dribbled over the line as the keeper caught it
and somehow dropped it through his legs.
I don’t think he’ll be getting an English lower division contract
anytime soon.
On the terrace.
Full-time,
and the Vasas players virtually did lap
of honour before finishing in front of the 100 or so ultras, spurred along now
by the PA announcer, who implored us to jump around like loons while he and the players stood in a line,
arms around each other. After struggling
last season, perhaps Vasas have the feeling THIS could be their year!
Blau-Weiss Linz 1-1 Austria Lustenau, att. 1,195 (Austrian 1.liga)
The ticket booths outside the stadium
I’m
on the homeward-bound stage of my journey now, if heading towards Buapest to
meet up with my better half is ‘homeward’.
Certainly, the end of my football tour is nigh, with only an Austrian
second tier match and (possibly) a Budapest gig left. Anyway, I’ve not been to
Linz (beyond changing trains, once) so it’s as good a place as any to rest up
following last night’s overnite train to Munich. And my abode is close by the footie
ground. Perfect.
1st view of the inside.
Fast
forward a few hours and I make another check on the match. T’internet now suggests the game is at some
other stadium, the other side of the city centre, next to the river. At least 45 minutes’ walk, and that’s even if
I go the right way. I decide to go past
the other stadium anyway, just in case…and a good job I did too. With an hour to KO there are a few fans milling
around and the ticket office is open. I
pick up a €14 standing place and then have a stroll through the nearby
botanical gardens.
BW ultras as the teams come out.
The Stadion der Linz was much more impressive than I’d come to think. It’s essentially horse-shoe shaped, around an
athletics track, with two stands making up the ‘U’. The main stand has a few more rows (not many)
and covers one touchline and slightly beyond the pitch, while the other stand
covers two sides and is populated with ‘rail seating’. However, what ‘makes’ the stadium is the
vaulted roof, its arches dominating proceedings and the cherry on top.
Looking towards the main stand side.
I’d
done no homework in advance, I had no idea who Blau-Weiss were playing. I didn’t
even know if Blau-Weiss were the biggest team in Linz (or is it LASK?) One plays at Linz’s premier stadium, the
other is towards the top of the league.
Blau-Weiss’s opponents tonite were Austria Lustenau, from the western
part of the country. What I didn’t know
was that Lustenau were currently top 3, and Blau-Weiss bottom, 4 defeats in
4.
Behind the goal...the stadium runs out.
You’d
never have guessed this from the opening 20 minutes. BW battered Lustenau and the latter’s keeper
made 3 amazing saves before finally being beaten when he narrowed the angle of
one attacker, who squared it for a tap-in.
Defence? What defence?
I
imagined BW would now score a
barrowload. I don’t think they had
another shot on target. Lustenau
gradually took control and equalised before half time, a header smacked in off
a corner. 2nd half, Lustenau
continued to have the advantage, but couldn’t find a way through. Overall, the draw was a fair result.
The teams come out.
The
crowd was given as 1200, the majority by the touchline, either in or near the
ultras, who kept up a noise most of the game.
I was also impressed with the Lustenauers (?) There may only have been around 30 of them
but every single one joined in the chanting.
For reasons unknown, they displayed all of their flags and banners upside
down.
The rain comes down, the match goes on.
The
beer was standard, but their sausages were huge, and greasy. More Polish than German. I had two, though I
was going to get a schnitzel (‘when in Austria…’) but they’d sold out. No badges in the club shop (next to the
ticket office). In fact, not a lot full
stop. But if your support is barely
1,000..? It doesn’t sound great,
watching a match in an 18,000 capacity stadium at not even one-tenth capacity,
but I really enjoyed it. Good atmosphere,
despite the numbers, beautiful stadium, and adjacent to parkland. Admittedly, a bit of a walk from the city centre,
but any amount of buses go to ‘Stadion’ (17,19,26,27). Do it.
