Wolves 2-1 BFC, Saturday 23rd September 2017

‘Rugby league playoffs?  Americanised sh*te.’

Another week, another defeat – 3 in 3 for me.  But at least we scored this week – from a centre half.  What I’d give to see a forward look like scoring, but Bradshaw on his own up top is not the answer; it wasn’t the answer last season and it’s not the answer now.
But to begin at the beginning…

Despite several offers, Mr Reed stuck to his guns: ‘I am NOT going to Wolverhampton.’  This was a shame, since it afforded a third off my train fare.  As it was, late booking cost me forty quid. Ho hum.  I was quite keen to go, since I’d not been to Molineux since c1994, when Adie Moses scored in a two-all draw and my Pops, girlfriend and I were verbally abused pre-match by home fans.  (I know, pretty much the standard West Midlands experience).  So, anyway, I found my day today slightly disconcerting, only meeting Wolves fans of a reasonable ilk.

I’d shared a table with Wolves on the train up, though homework and headphones did their best to keep me out of their conversation till leaving Birmingham, when a knowing glance to something one of them said led to a ‘oh no, don’t tell me you’re from Yorkshire.’  Turns out an FT reporter was shadowing them too, for a piece on their Chinese investor.  His ambition (his word) he said, was to follow Billy Beane for a year in Barnsley.  The press taking note of the Oakwell toings and froings; this hasn’t happened since the Premiership.  Well, here’s hoping.

After meeting up with Pompey and #1 daughter (poor kid, stuck with dad for the weekend) we had a beer in the Lych Gate (’home fans only’) before leaving its cramped but cosy upstairs for the Goose and West Ham-Spurs on the big screen.  Another average lager later and it was off to the match, and one thing you can say about Wolves – their stadium is even nearer the town centre than Oakwell. 

Stan Cullis, of 'Stan Cullis Stand' fame.

Wandering (no pun intended) to the turnstile, I asked a steward where I could buy a ticket for the away end.  ‘You can’t.  They’ve sold out.’  ‘You’re kidding.’  Actually, it wasn’t sold out for away fans, but for some reason you couldn’t buy a ticket on the day. That’s crazy.  Can someone explain the logic?  Cos it only meant I was off to the home end.  (Part of me now felt a lot more optimistic; I’ve seen many a decent result while stuck with the opposition fans.)  I left Ian with the Londontykes flag and my BFC tracky top, in case I got searched going in.

I was just about to enter the ticket office when a geezer asked if I needed a ticket.  His wife couldn’t come and I could have her ticket for 20 quid.  Bargain – or at least cheaper than the away end.  I enjoyed a good natter with him in the 1^st half, before he was called over at half time to his brother elsewhere in the stand.  But he made me very welcome, despite my loyalties.

Elements of Wolves' history on the concourse walls.

What can I say about the football?  We were comfortable, they were comfortable, no-one looked like scoring.  I was happy with the point.  The home fans weren’t.  Bradshaw had a penalty claim turned down (he may have been shoved, but it was certainly too far away for me to call it). Meantime a sweet move and cut back from them led to a volley just wide.  Half time nil-nil and we rarely looked in danger.  Wolves bloke said we’d played well and the Reds had certainly quietened an expectant home crowd (nearly 28,000 of them!)

Reds' keeper Davies...in reverse Wolves colours.

The second half was more of the same. We looked pretty going forward, some nice touches from Hamill and Moncur, before it got to Bradshaw and was then lost.  Then they would get the ball and it always seemed to end at our centre halves.  Davies made 2 saves the entire match, neither of which you’d expect him to fail (unless you remember the Villa goal last week) and I can’t remember a catch he made either.  Everything was so comfortable.  And as time was starting to run out, the natives were getting restless too.  Finally, some noise – though it was of thousands of people groaning in unison.  My kind of sound.

The view from the Billy Wright Stand.

Wolves threw a couple of subs on, but were still getting nowhere.  Another attack dribbled out for a Barnsley goal kick and I made the fateful decision: time for me to dribble.  I’d been considering it for some time, but as there was no danger…I pushed past my row, got down the steps, to hear the buzz of an expectant crowd.  I looked up at the TV monitor on the concourse, just in time to see a cross volleyed in at the back post by one of their subs.  Jesus Christ.  I turn my back for one second and those bunch of incompetents have conceded.  I wouldn’t mind, but we definitely had the ball when I got up.

The Barnsley fans (minus one).

Time for Hecky to act; on comes Ugbo for Potts.  Perhaps Bradshaw won’t be so lonely now.  The match reverts to type though, neither side going anywhere.  Then, in the 1^st minute of injury time, a Reds free kick to the back post is kept alive by a Barnsley player who heads it across goal.  The initial chance goes begging, but the ball rolls out to Jackson who hammers it in from 20 yards.  Joy!  I sit on my hands.  Collective silence all round, apart from 900 Reds fans over there, in the far corner to my left.  There’s suddenly a run on the home exits.

Match action.

But fear not!  Hamill is possibly fouled in their half.  Wolves throw, but it’s still halfway in their half, no danger.  3 or 4 passes later…and I see it before the centre half (Lindsay?) but N’Diaye runs past him and latches onto a sliderule pass to sidefoot in the winner.  We have snatched defeat from the jaws of equilibrium.  If I wasn’t spotted as a Barnsley fan when we scored, I must be now.  I am the only one still in my seat in the home end.  I take solace in those Wolves fans who missed the winner cos they needed to be back in time for whatever Ant and Dec are probably presenting.  Still, a kick in the teeth for us.  This had nailed on draw written all over it.  On the train back with Anton, more Wolves fans comment to us how well the Reds played.  If there’s anything I can’t stand more than a pr*ck of a Wolves fan, it’s a reasonable one.  Oh well, good luck to them – they never gave up, and I remember all the late goals we scored in our promotion season to the Prem (ironically, beating Wolves to it, of course).  Let’s hope we learn from this, rather than it become the pattern I worry it’s becoming.

Those towering Molineux stands.

*** Jackson.  Won everything and scored.  Composed and good distribution.  
** Moncur.  I’ll be controversial, I thought he had a decent game.  Passed and moved, found his own players – what more do you want?
* Hamill.  ‘I don’t know why we let him go. I thought he was alright, actually.’  That was from a Wolves fan I overheard.  Like the Villa game, played well, without especially pulling up any trees.  

Londontykes' MOTM: 1. Jackson  2. Hamill  3. Moncur

Despatches:
What to do about Bradshaw?  Seems simple to me: either play him in a front two, or don’t play him at all.  Cannot hold a ball up, and that’s possibly the one thing he needs to do when on his own, if he isn’t the speed merchant latching onto throughballs, a la Michael Owen.  And he’s certainly not that.  Barnes lost the ball a lot too.  I can’t say I noticed Potts or Williams, apart from when they were being Potts (losing possession, strolling) or Williams (terrible foul, yellow card).  Pearson is also not a left back, but you knew that already.  Lindsay and McCarthy were generally solid, though it’s important we don’t lose the ball when the latter has joined in the attack.  It was also good to see McGeehan on the pitch.  He didn’t do owt, but from what I’ve seen, we need something, and fast.  My gut instinct says we’re going down.  I’d say we are carrying at least 4 players, and if I need any more proof that we’re facing relegation, it’s 442 magazine; every year they tip us to go down, we stay up, and the one time they tipped us to stay up (after the Flitcroft honeymoon) we went down.  Well, they’ve tipped us to stay up this season.  We will battle, we will do our best, we have a fantastic coach, but I’m not optimistic.  We look far too weak.  (And as a ps, wasn’t it good to see Hourihane and Winnall score yesterday?)  But we only need 3 teams to be even worse, and Sunderland, Brum and Bolton are doing the biz so far. Keep it up lads.

Onwards and upwards!

Drink du jour: I think it was a San Miguel and a Kronenburg, something average anyway, before a couple of cans of something Polish on the way home.  Not Tyskie, that other one, begins with Z…

Away: 926.  Not Wolves’ lowest of the season.  That was Bristol City (big club).

The Damage:
£20 ent
£40.50 train
£3 prog
= £63.50

***note on the prog.  Have you ever seen a record of head-to-head RESERVE meetings?  Statto overload!  Brilliant!

The Tunes:
Drone Logic (Daniel Avery)
Dummy (Portishead)
Four Calendar Café (Cocteau Twins)

Wolves v Barnsley panorama.

Pre-match line-up

Billy Wright's uniquely shaped stand.

Half time spray of the pitch.

Pre-match milling outside the Stan Cullis.

Courthouse Reds fly the flag...

The oldest part of a very modern old stadium.

Tottenham Hotspur 1-0 BFC, Tuesday 19th September 2017

‘Your ground’s too big for you’

Welcome to...errr....Tottenham!?

Don’t we do well for ourselves?  Having spent 77 years trying to get to Wembley (it wasn’t built till 1923) I make this 5 times in 17 years, including 3 in 3.  Thus, I s’pose it’s about time the novelty wore off slightly, and a crowd of 23,000 rattling around the national stadium doesn’t do much to invoke the passion.  Still, a decent turnout from the Reds, over 3,000 for a midweeker.  I’ll see you all at Millwall in a week and half…

The Super Reds

It would have been great to meet up with ex-Londontyke pool team member and in reality Spurs fan Jamie, but time wouldn’t allow; I had a partner to feed (Wagamama, South Bank) and a Londontyke to meet to hand over a match ticket…for West Ham.  Phil would rather tick off a new ground than waste time watching an EFL Cup game at the ‘home of football’ and I take his point.  Why should the national stadium be used for a game of this lack of magnitude?  A couple of summers ago, I saw Hertha Berlin play a Europa League qualifier, and instead of using the 75,000 Olympic Stadium, they played the game at a stadium in East Berlin and it was a 20,000 sellout.  I could have done with Spurs doing similar.  Craven Cottage beats Wembley hands down.

'Wembley Park is Alive.'  Yeah, right.

Having said that, it was great to bump into the Slacks at Wembley Park, and the walk down Wembley Way is pleasant enough, even if tonite lacked the vitality of previous.  I won one bet tho – those ubiquitous half and half scarves were on sale again.  I considered buying Molly one, to complement his Man City-BFC effort, but I didn’t.  They’re sh*t.

There was even time for a beer, bumping into odds and sods of others we know and love, before we took our seats – only we couldn’t.  The more raucous element of our support had taken it upon themselves to stand at the back and bang the ceiling, which appeared to be made of tin, judging by the noise.  Sarah was unimpressed, we went to sit elsewhere….and before long, Andy led a tribe of oldies out from the darkness to a spot more befitting of persons our age: we went and sat on our own, somewhere up from the corner flag.  Ahhh, that's much better.

Looking towards the Spurs' end.

Then the game started and Spurs reserves ran rings around us.  (To be fair, can I just point out we’d made plenty of changes as well, with star man Hamill being benched.)  Spurs were bigger, and faster…and just better.  I s’pose we couldn’t grumble.  But the tendency to let some bloke amble forward with the ball 30 yards into our own half (three times) became jarring.  Thank goodness Spurs were either trying to Arsenal it in (oh, the irony) or they wellied it miles over the bar (too numerous to count).  Mind, we coulda..shoulda…gone ahead.  Barnes broke free on the left and all he had to do was play it across for some Red or other to have a one-on-one.  So he delayed, and delayed...and scuffed it to the keeper.  Poor.  Llorente meantime buried a simple header over the bar.  0-0 at half time and only 75 minutes to go before we could force penalties.

Behind the goal.

I don’t know what was said at half time, but we came out like a house on fire.  Within a minute Uggy was clean through, but the ball took an age to drop, he was forced a little wider than he wanted, and despite the thunderous half-volleyed shot, Vorm saved.  I’d have enjoyed that one going in, given how many fans hadn’t come back to their seats yet.  But this appeared no fluke, as we took the game to Spurs for a quarter of an hour.  They were really on the back foot, so it came as no surprise when Spurs went down the other end and Trippier (of all people) pulled the ball back for Ali to have a tap in.  Ok, so a defender just watched as Ali anticipated and ran past him, but hey!  He’s one of England’s better players, and otherwise, we defended well all nite.  Hamill and Bradshaw were subsequently thrown on, but the game petered out and we never really looked like scoring.  Well done Spurs, and at least it saves us going to Wembley again (in the EFL Cup, anyway).  A valiant effort, all in all.

Who else but...?

*** Ugbo.  Struggled to keep hold of it 1^st half (they all did) but grew into the game and posed a real threat.  This lad could go far. 

** McCarthy.  Again, I was impressed with his ability to tackle and block shots.  He looks a bargain at £200k.

* Lindsay.  Both he and MacDonald snuffed out the Llorente threat.

Londontykes' MOTM: 1. Ugbo  2= Lindsay/McCarthy/Williams

Despatches:
The Spurs support was a bit sh*t – but I sat amongst Spurs fans when we played them in the Prem, and they were sh*t then an’ all.  A bit like a league cup game for us, when we’re playing lower division rubbish.  As for our players, well, the Wembley pitch is a bit far away (even if it isn’t the ‘London Stadium’) and I can’t say I really noticed Bird or Williams (apart from when the latter gave the ball away).  But everyone else says he’s good, so he must be.  Davies was excellent, a couple of good saves and safe hands, while MacDonald was back to form at centre back.  The most worrying player was Fryers, who could well be a footballer, but doesn’t look a left-back.  Then again, he was constantly doubled-up on by Trippier+friend, and I didn’t see him getting much help.
  
Drink du jour: I had a pint of Erdinger in the Beer House, Waterloo.  Six pounds forty-five pence.  I thought I’d misheard and handed over a tenner awaiting change.  I need to be less British and next time tell them where to stick their pint.  Message to the Old #7 crew: don’t moan when you have to buy me a £3.70 bottle of Erdinger next home game!

Onwards and upwards!

Crowd: 23,826 (3,300 away)

The Damage:
£10 ent
£3.50prog
£2.50 water
= £16

The Tunes:
Garlands (Cocteau Twins)
God Fodder (Ned’s Atomic Dustbin)

Spurs v Barnsley panorama.

BFC 0-3 Aston Villa, Saturday 16th September 2017

‘If you lived in Brazil, you’d be dead by now’

Welcome to....

The more seasons change, the more things remain the same.  (Away) shirts in my size sold out?  Check.  Hand dryers in East Stand still p*** poor?  Check.  A gazillion new signings for me to make a snap judgement on?  Check. A Londontyke making ridiculous pre-match bets?  Check. (Slacki putting on a Palace/Reds double.  Neither came in.)  A dodgy pen given against us?  Check.  Welcome back!  After a summer of traipsing around Europe watching 23 matches of teams I couldn’t really give a s*** about, it was great to finally see the Super Reds.  And it wouldn’t be the same if we (I) didn’t start our season in imperiously losing form.  Christ, I wish I was still on holiday.

The Sky lorries come to t'well.

Course, it was destined to be.  We were playing the Villa, a side we’ve not beaten at home in a 130 years of trying.  130?  Yes, it’s that well known landmark anniversary wot everyone celebrates: 130 years since we were formed, or sumfing.  130?  My God.  We were promised a fleet of legends pre-match, and we got ‘em: Paul Cross and Colin Walker.  I just dreaded one of them being Brooce Dire (actually, later I was told he DID come out – with Sir Bobby, AKA ‘The God Squad’ but Salisbury must have been tipped off about an impending pitch invasion by Annoyed of Peckham, cos I missed it, as Salisbury came up to chat and drop off Wembley tickets.)

Former Reds' legends...and Paul Cross.

Oh, and while I’m at it, a 500 pence programme.  WTF?  I asked my dad if he ever thought he would live to see the day we’d be charging a fiver for a programme at Oakwell.  ‘No.’  130 pages we were promised too (see what they did there?) but was I the only one thinking that in a programme based on a multiple of 4 pages, this was impossible.  (OK, yes I was; I presume the programme must have been 128 pages or 132, unless it was stapled differently to norm.)  Still, I was amused to think that arch BFC programme collector P. Waddington, of Penistone, had turned down my offer of purchasing one for him, only for him to get to Oakwell and find them sold out.  (He nabbed one later for £7.68 on ebay.  Irritatingly, we actually had a spare ourselves as Phil got his beak involved and thus 2 were bought for a P. Ompey).  Oh well. 

The banner toured the ground pre-match.

Another annual event is also my missing out on the pub pre-match on my opening game.  As the years go by, I’ve noticed a trend: my dad always has his birthday on the last day of August, and as such, I feel duty-bound to treat him to a meal.  So it was that we found ourselves at Cannon Hall farm having dinner amongst dozens of little kids.  It seems Peppa Pig and George (whothef*** is ‘George’?) were visiting.  It was pram central.  The food was pretty s*** as well.  Though I had a wry smile that the toilets of ‘The White Bull’ (that’s the name of its ’restaurant’) were labelled ‘bulls’ (men) and ‘heifers’ (ladies).  I’ve seen a few heifers over the years in Barnsley, I thought.

The sides meet 'n' greet.

So, onto the match.  A traditional 5:30pm KO, to suit the global audience wot were surely tuning in.  Boy, I bet the X Factor’s viewing figures took a hammering tonite.  (If it wasn’t/isn’t on, forgive me, I haven’t seen Satdy evening telly in 20 years.  It’s still s***, right?)  So, yeah, there was this big team rocking into town to take on village misfits Aston Vanilla (what do you get if you cross a….oh, nevermind).  Hurrah!  We’d finally see a player of class and distinction – Conor Hourihane.  But, luckily, Villa haven’t yet found a way of utilising him efficiently, so he pretty much stood around in what I’d call the deep lying Jacob Mellis position, generally doing Sweet FA.  And after struggling to get out of our half for the first 10 mins, there was only one team in it: us.

Aston 'we always fill our end' Villa.

Barnes, Hamiill and McCarthy all whipped in great crosses.  One pullback resulted in an airshot (I’d love to blame Moncur, cos I think he’s s***, but truth is I’ve no idea who swung and missed).  A majestic chest control and volleyed cross by Hammill landed virtually under the bar.  Still not a Red in sight.  And did we really head wide from 4 yards off a corner?  Looked like one Barnsley player challenging another.  In the middle of all this, Bradshaw (our one centre forward) was strangely anonymous, never where the ball was landing.  Then the inevitable…Villa score from their only two visits into our half, both calamities of our own undoing.

The camera gantry on the old Main Stand.

McCarthy and Adomah chase down a Villa throughball; McCarthy is patently being stripped for pace, but fear not!  Davies comes hurtling out of his goal and for a split second appears favourite to gather – only he doesn’t and it somehow goes through him.  Adomah is left with a tap-in.  Whyohwhyohwhy do we have to work so hard for a snifter of an opportunity, while we just GIVE the opposition goals?  Then, a minute or two before half time, a ball over the top is stared at by one of our defenders, while Davis runs onto it for Villa.  Jackson makes a fabulous challenge, putting the ball out for a corner with his studs. The linesman starts flagging like mad.  He’s a bit excited for a corner, I reckon.  But no!  He’s given a penalty.  I guess he had to get spotted somehow, bless.  Adomah fires home, high into the net.  

Another dodgy pen against us despatched.

We are properly up against it now and Hecky goes all radical, bringing on not one, but two subs (I guess it would be harsh on Moncur to drag him off alone; it wasn’t ALL his fault).  Ugg-boots and Hedges on for Moncur and Barnes, we’re going 4-4-2 instead of Bradshaw on his own up front.  Result?  Well, to cut a boring story short, Villa score 9 mins in with  free header and coast to victory, with Uggy missing 2 glorious chances to score (but at least he moves to get into these positions; Bradshaw was virtually statuesque).

*** Hamill.  It’s difficult to put my finger on it, but he looked our biggest threat, till Uggy late on.  The chest and volleyed cross, 1^st half, was sublime.  Not his best game, but still the best we have. 

** Potts.  1^st half in particular, he won balls, was prepared to bring the ball forward and brought others into the game.

* McCarthy.  Defends well and gets up to help the attack.  Reminds me a little of Bree, ironically (considering we were playing Villa, though Bree was out).

Twitter MOTM: Williams

Londontykes' MOTM: 1. Hamill 2. Williams 3. McCarthy

Sun setting over our chances.

Despatches:

What is it with Villa and Brum fans?  When they’re not dragging out ‘Villa…Villa…Villa….’ (‘F*** off, f*** off, f***’ retorted the Ponty and that was the end of that) or that End of the Road dirge (Brum), they only sing about each other.  Perhaps if they got behind their teams, their sides wouldn’t be so bad.  Though why Aston fans think I’ve only come to see the Villa, god knows.  Still, nice touch of them to get their cameraphones out along with the Reds support in homage to terminally-ill Reds owner Patrick Cryne.  Please BFC, don’t get relegated before he bites the big one.
Players?  I couldn’t quite see what the excitement was regarding Williams.  I thought the game passed him by, so Twitter MOTM, obvs.  Bradshaw looked lost on his own, and second fiddle to Uggy when he wasn’t.  Had the presence of Sam Winnall, without the goals.  Uggy looked lively – shame he’s not ours.  The centre halves looked alright (Jackson/Partick Thistle bloke) apart from going AWOL for #3.  Potts looked excellent too, certainly a presence at 6 foot odd, blond and centre mid.  Barnes had a couple of good runs, and more’s the point (compared to Ryan Kent) whipped a couple of good crosses in.  So he was subbed at half time.  Davies caught and saved perfectly, but continues to be capable of the crucial blunder.  A poor man’s Luke Steele.  And Thiam’s only input was to outrageously flick a ball to their player with his 1^st touch.  Learn to do the simple things, idiot, and the rest will follow.  Thereafter did a passable interpretation of Brendan O’Connell (without the skill).
Anyone for Wolverhampton next week?

Onwards and upwards!

Drink du jour: A couple of lagers pre-match, including some p*** poor Yorkshire watter (Saltire?) and Jack and coke on the homeward bound.  Well, at least the train journey is worth coming for.
Crowd: 14,643 (3,268 away - looked more)

The Damage:
£23.70 train
£5 prog
£2 zine
= £30.70

The Tunes:

Big Balloon (Dutch Uncles)
Biggest Bluest Hifi (Camera Obscura)

Villa H panorama

Little's changed since May in the town centre.

Luxembourg 1-0 Belarus, Thursday 31st August 2017

Luxembourg 1-0 Belarus (Stade Josy Barthel, World Cup Qualifier, att. 2,752)

Welcome to ....

There's no such thing as an easy game in international football - especially if you're Luxembourg or Belarus.  Certainly, during the 1st half of this game, both sides attempted to make football look as difficult as possible.  The old adage about 'football being a simple game' looked anything but.  These sides were absolutely terrible.  Of course I expected it of Luxembourg, perennial no-achievers, but I knew less than nothing of Belarus.  I s'pose one good thing about the break up of the old Soviet Union...as well as the admission of 'countries' such as Gibraltar and San Marino...are that Luxembourg are no longer the whipping boys of everyone in a World Cup qualifying group.  They might even muster a goal!

An inauspicious national stadium.

I was in Luxembourg as part of my holiday with my partner; she's made it her mission to visit every country in the EU, a task made more crystal by the moronic 52% who voted our country out of the gang (yes, I am a 'Bremoaner').  And Luxembourg City is a bit of a gem as it goes, a geographical phenomenon, built on a winding gorge and containing many an old battlement.  I loved it, though it's on the pricey side.  Nevermind the food and drink, or the hotel, what was I doing paying €40 for THIS?  Well, I s'pose it is (technically) international football, but I'd put the level at Conference North.  I ought to have a look and see who these people play their club football for...

(Closed) ticket booths outside the Main Stand.

Also, before folk claim I'm responsible for trying to ruin my partner's holiday...it was SHE who spotted the game was on!  So I made my way to the Stade Josy Barthel, a 15 minute walk from the city centre up Avenue Emile Reuter, about 4 hours before the match, to guarantee my ticket.  One walk around the stadium later, no ticket booths were open.  At least the sight of TV trucks and a security guard allayed my fears that I was in the wrong place.  Tickets were 'on sale from 7pm'.  With no hostelries in the area, it was time to retreat back to the centre.

A bungalow backing onto the national stadium.

With kick-off at 20:45, I returned about half an hour before kick-off.  I wasn't the only one walking from the city centre; as many as 10 others were doing the same.  The anticipation, the excitement, the buzz....Luxembourg had none of it.  I ventured to the 1st ticket booth, on the corner of the stadium as I arrived.  'Are you Belarus?'  'No,I'm from England.'  'No, do you want a ticket for Belarus? I only sell tickets for Belarus.'  After a mini-panic that I wouldn't be let in, turns out I just needed to go to the next booth, to buy a ticket for the home end.  €40.  I nearly fell over.  This was for a ticket by the side of the pitch, in the open.  Perhaps the tickets behind the (far) goal, or the away (near) end were cheaper?  Who knows.  I went in anyway.

The pre-match rush.

The Stade Josy Barthel (named after Luxembourg's only ever Olympic gold medallist, fact fans) is a basic affair.  Brutalist in design, concrete rules.  There's one covered stand, and open seating surrounding an athletics' track.  And looking at the seats, I think many haven't seen much use over the years.  Most fans sat where they liked, though a fair few stood at the back, leaning on the barrier. Making it early, for once, I was able to take in the atmosphere (!), as well as the national anthems. Weirdly, the Luxembourg fans made more noise applauding the Belarus anthem than they did in greeting their own team coming out: silence, 'cept for a bit of applause in the main stand.  I nearly missed the teams appearing out of some hole in the ground in the far corner, near where the 30 or so away fans were situated.

The teams pop out of a hole in the ground.

All this is to denigrate the efforts of the 'M-Block Fanatics' and the half a dozen or so making noise on the halfway line near me.  The Fanatics, about 50-100 in number, kept up a racket throughout, despite an athletics track lying between them and the goal (possibly an advantage, if you support Luxembourg).

But lo!  I was there when...Luxembourg won a game of football!  After the ineptitude of the first half, where I despaired of ever seeing a goal, Luxembourg won it when a backpost header back across goal was hooked in.  Well-worked, if out of kilter with everything else.both before and after.  Earlier, Luxembourg had rode their luck when a Belarus cross hit the far post and came back for the centre forward to hit the bar with the rebound when it was easier to score.  Luxembourg, are, indeed, no longer the whipping boys of yore.**

The Damage:
€40 ent

**Indeed.  A few days later they gained a goalless draw in France, in another World Cup qualifier.  Winners of the 2018 World Cup?  France.  The mind boggles.

Stade Josy Barthel panorama (I)

1st view of the stadium

Welcome to ...(II)

Anyone...anyone??

Entry into the Pleasuredome.

Where to sit...?

Sunset behind the goal.

Sunset over the Main Stand.

An interesting structure at the back of the terrace.

A Luxembourg fan shows his colours.

Long way from Belarus.

 

Another home fan.

Match action.

The Main Stand.

The 'Roude Leiw' coach

Stade Josy Barthel panorama (II)