Arsenal 1-2 Eintracht Frankfurt, Thursday 28th November 2019

Arsenal 1-2 Eintracht Frankfurt, Europa League, official att. 49,419 (ha!)

Welcome to ...

Finally, finally…after about 15 matches, I’ve seen The Arse lose at the Emirates.  I didn’t think it was possible.  With a whimper too, as a team containing at least half a dozen players I wouldn’t recognise in the street, throw away a half-time lead.  It must have been embarrassing, for they sacked head coach Unai Emery the following day (well, if rivals Spurs can sack Pochetino whilst still being in the Champions League, surely it’s the least Arsenal can do).  This was an 8^th game without a win, a lifetime with their expectations.  (My own team, Barnsley, are currently 17 without a win.  Beat that, Arsenal.)

Full time.  Unai Emery R.I.P.

Turns out fans couldn’t give tickets away for this one.  Around 30,000 were expected tonite (though official figures won’t reflect that, counting season-ticket holders who’ve had no choice but to pay for tickets in Europe’s secondary cup competition).  I gratefully accepted an offer to fill in for one, while I was offered another ticket on the night.  Thursday nite is 5 aside nite for me and my buddies, and normally, these days, we struggle for numbers when it’s Europa League and Arsenal are at home – half the players are Arse fans of some level.  Still, dedication to both causes from one, Mani, who’ll sacrifice 20 minutes of Arsenal to see our own game through.

This is what 49,000 looks like at The Emirates.

I really like coming to these Euro games.  The away side invariably fill the away end, bringing 3000+, and make enough noise to make up for the rest of The Library.  So I was disappointed to learn on the day that Eintracht had been banned from receiving tickets due to earlier naughtiness in Guimaraes.  Furthermore, Arsenal had limited sales on their secondary ticketing procedure.  I wouldn’t even have an atmosphere.  Great.

The naughty boys' end.

I arrived about 20 mins in too, having tied my horse bike up outside the Co-op.  I like arriving late; no queues, and an empty staircase.  I was soon next to my mate Rod, in the upper tier, right behind the goal.  However, like me, he’s become disillusioned with (modern) football and couldn’t wait to have a beer.  He lasted 20 minutes before ‘beating the rush’.  What rush?  There was nobody here.  He missed Arsenal’s goal.  Martinelli drove it across from the right, a teammate dummied, and Aubameyang drove it low, off the keeper’s legs and the bar, before nestling in the net.  He’s one of the luckiest (best?) finishers I know.  Everything he hits seems to go in.  I joined Rod for beer.

My favourite Emirates game: spotting the cannon.

There was humour too, from those fans present when the Gunners scored; chants of ‘You’re not singing anymore’ to the empty away section followed by ‘Shall we sing a song for you?’ and, with delicious irony, ‘Your support is f***ing s***’.  Only the Eintracht fans weren’t as non-existent as they ought.  Once they were ahead, the Frankfurters could be heard (yet not seen) at the Clock End (save for a topless gentleman who could only have been an away fan).   The middle (corporate) section looked suspiciously full at the away end, let’s just say that.  Arsenal apparently wait with baited breathe how UEFA will react for their apparent failure to invoke the ban in its completeness.

Eintracht woz ere.  A sticker finds its way onto a cannon.

Arsenal (the players) created little, second half – but we had a great view of Eintracht’s two goals.  We were still supping, chatting rubbish, and following the game on one of the screens under the stand.  We weren’t the only ones.  Japanese international Kamada won it with two super finishes, a left foot curler into the far corner and a low right footed drive, both from around 20 yards.  Only then did we take our seats again.  I mean, you don’t come to football to stand on a concourse, drinking beer and watching it on a screen…do you?  I said we were disillusioned.  Anyway, I hear Arsene Wenger’s available…

The Damage:

£0 ent (cheers Rod!)
£10.40 beer x 2 (Camden Pale Ale, I think)
= £10.40

The Tunes:
Imidiwan (Tinariwen)
La Radiolina (Manu Chao)

Arsenal go through...Unai gets sacked.

Arsenal 4-0 Standard Liege, Thursday 3rd October 2019

Arsenal 4-0 Standard Liege, Europa League, official att. 58,725 (Emirates Stadium)

Welcome to ...

At the risk of repeating a Smiths’ lyric…stop me if you think you’ve heard this one before.  Arsenal roll over inferior opposition in front of a two-thirds full stadium (while announcing it’s virtually capacity) while playing delightful footie, with a midgety skilful midfielder running the show.  Add in the away fans providing the atmosphere and you have the complete Emirates experience.  Boxes ticked all round.  The average fan would be well chuffed.  But this is Arsenal, where they expect to win trophies, so the usual scintillating home victory is never enough while they continue to roll over away.  However, this was their RESERVE side, and two of my Arsenal buddies both claimed, independently, that the reserve side is better than the 1^st team!  Certainly, there seemed more bottle, more effort, a greater will to win.  

Standard's corner.

I should sound more grateful.  A mate was over from Oz, and another mate had lent me his (son’s) season ticket.  Great view, comfy chair, soulless atmosphere.  Modern football at its finest.  But most important, a drink with my mates, some ‘bantz’ with an Aussie 15 year old…and a good time by all.  (He predicted the score correctly, btw.)  And I did enjoy (Real Madrid loanee) Ceballos orchestrating the game from deep midfield, while the average Arse could get excited about 18 year old Martinelli’s lively performance up front, including 2 goals.  Not bad for a winger playing out of position.  Standard were never at the races.  3-0 down after 23 minutes.  ‘Are you Tottenham in disguise?’ came the cry from….oooh, I dunno….3 dozen at our end.  Good effort lads.

Another week, another home win.  Every game is the same when I come here…

A packed-out Emirates.

The Damage:

€0 ent (cheers Geoff!)
= €0

The Tunes:
Psychocandy (The Jesus and Mary Chain)
La Radiolina (Manu Chao)
Endtroducing (DJ Shadow)

Let's not pussyfoot about...

The teams line up, Europa League banner ready.

Match action at the North Bank end.

Standard corner.

Austria Wien 1-2 Apollon Limassol, Thursday 8th August 2019

Austria Wien 1-2 Apollon Limassol, Europa League 3rd qualifying round, 1st leg, att. 8,165 (Generali Arena)

Welcome to ...

I walked miles today.  First up, from my hostel near the main train station, I made it to legendary Viennese footie ground Hohe Warte, venue of Austria’s biggest ever football crowd, 85,000.  And you can see why, with one enormous hill on one side.  Like The Valley, Charlton, in days of yore.  And luckily there was a hole in the fence, so I could sneak in.  But that’s for another post.

Hohe Warte

If I’d known how far it was, there’s no way I would have walked it.  For some reason I thought the Hohe Warte was only 1km outside the city centre.  Did I have a ‘not to scale’ map?  Maybe: it was nearer 5.  But at least I had the privilege of walking past Vienna’s waste incineration plant, as designed by one Hundertwasser.  Why can’t more municipal sites look like this?  After reaching the stadium, I got a tram back (‘D’?) all the way to the hauptbahnhof, so that was a result.

Hundertwasser's waste incineration plant.

Somehow, I missed the turning to the stadium earlier too.  That added another mile to my journey.  But once I found the hill, I knew I was on the right path, passing an open air swimming pool to my right before I reached Hohe Warte.

Unfortunately, the site was surrounded by a fence.  Long way to come, etc…but lo!  Someone had ripped a hole in the mesh and I was in – through a few bushes, and I was right at the top of aforesaid banking.  The whole majesty of Hohe Warte lay before me.  What a stadium!  And as coincidence would have it, tenants First Vienna, playing in the 4^th tier of Austrian football, were having their pre-season team photo taken in the middle of the pitch.

There they are!  Over there!

 Opposite the banking was the stadium’s only stand.  Running the length of the pitch, it had terracing on one side and seats in the rest.  The rest of the stadium has long since been grassed over, save for the lower portion of the main banking containing a scaffold stand.

I spied the main entrance to the far right, down the hill.  It was open, so I walked behind one goal and headed for there.  Hopefully I wouldn’t be arrested for trespassing – no, there were actually plenty of people there, as local schoolchildren were being coached on an astroturf pitch behind the Main Stand.  Anyway, hopefully fixtures will fall kinder next time and I can see an actual game at Hohe Warte.  For now, the Generali Arena beckoned.

I even came across another stadium on my march to the Generali.

Austria Wien’s new stadium is a far cry from their previous humble abode.  Having studied the vaguaries of the local transport system…I decided to walk there too.  A glutton for punishment, but this time it was only 40 minutes.  Only.  The Generali Arena holds a proud perch above the adjacent motorway, which I crossed by bridge.  Then you get an (almost) rural walk, through some trees...before the stadium is leaps out at you.  I quickly found a ticket office (there were more, busier ticket booths at the Osttribune, the main home end) and asked for the cheapest.  €16 – for the Osttribune!

This was the ultras end and as such was by far the busiest part of the ground.  Although two-tiered, those in the central part of the upper tier also joined in the noise from those below.  I elected for somehow quieter, in the wings.

The stadium towering over the motorway.

The stadium is a good design as newbuilds go.  It’s two-tiered on three sides, with a one-tier stand on the 4^th side, all with purple (sorry, violet) seats.  It holds about 18,000 and tonite it was about half full.  I’m not sure about the away end/corner though, with its plexi-glass dividers.  How less of a pleasure must it be watching football through THOSE?  (I have, and what happens is that away fans cover them in stickers, so you have an even harder time of seeing the action.

Limassol fans.

Tonite’s opponets were Apollon Limassol, of Cyprus, who’d maybe brought 150.  I was expecting more away fans, given those I’d already seen in town.  I know at least one was American of Greek origin, as I overheard her telling her life story to some other fans, whether they were interested or not.  What is it with Americans?  First half, three of them, (one guy, two girls) came and sat next to me and the guy was fully getting behind Austria, arguing with decisions, etc…it all looked an act for his friends.  It was cringey.  I moved second half.

The view from upstairs.

I presumed Wien were favourites, as befitted the side from ‘Favoriten’ but they were shocked early on as Limassol opened their account with a pen for handball.  But, as the ref gave that one, he could hardly turn down an appeal from Austria for a similar arm-blocking shot.  One-all.  One penalty-all.  Half-time approached and I’d spent 45 minutes eyeing up someone else’s beer – mainly because I’d seen beforehand it was a cashless system.  I saw nowhere to buy a stadium card.  Maybe they accepted credit cards?  I couldn’t be bothered to find out.

Austria prepare to take their penalty.

Sadly for Austria, they ran out of ideas.  Limassol’s pace on the break had the beating of the homesters and early on in the second half, as the centre forward was played through, he took his time, drew the keeper and lofted the ball over him and in off the crossbar.  Beautiful.  And that was it.  The winner.  I’m not sure Austria knew what hit ‘em, but there’s no doubt the better team won.

The Damage:
€16 ent

= €16

The Tunes:
Foxbase Alpha (St. Etienne)
Jah Sees Jah Knows (Misty in Roots)

Stayed at:
A&O Hauptbahnhof, Vienna (£25)

A stand built into flats.  Genius!

The view from the bottom corner.

Welcome to...(II)

Back of the Westtribune

Back of the Sudtribune.

Austria Wien coach.

Mascot attack!

Picnic seating behind the Osttribune.

Welcome to...(III)

Nordtribune.  Exec boxes ahoy!

There's certainly enough VIP seating.

The teams line up.

Match action.

Tight marking off a corner.

Apollon celebrate what turned out to be the winner.

The Sudtribune.

The view from the Osttribune upper tier.

A general whips up his troops.

The ultras in the lower tier.

Some choice perches in the corner.

Slovan Bratislava 1-0 Dundalk, Wednesday 7th August 2019

Slovan Bratislava 1-0 Dundalk, Europa League 3rd qualifying round, 1st leg, att. 9,980 (Narodny Futbalovy Stadion AKA Tehelne Pole)

Welcome to ...

 If I’d played this right, I could have seen 2 games today, one at Slovak’s brand new stadium, and the other, a women’s Champions League game at Pasienky, a few hundred yards away.  However, I wasn’t complaining (much).  I’d had my clothes washed and I’d spent the afternoon wallowing in and out of the Tehelne Pole swimming pool, itself next door to the stadium of the same name.

Talking of Bratislava sights...welcome to Eastern Europe.

With a couple of days in Bratislava, I was keen that my swim shorts would be put to some use and on having a choice of pools, I plumped for Tehelne Pole as I could then buy a match ticket for the evening’s game.  The plan worked a treat.  After my swim I walked around the new stadium…so new, various bits of road, pavement and the adjoining office block weren’t yet finished.  Neither had the ticket office, given the mangle of cables, plasterboard walls and banners trying to cover the mess.  And I also learnt that ‘cashless’ signs meant the very opposite; yes, I could pay in cash.  €12, upper tier, behind the goal.

Buying a match ticket.

After dropping off my swimming gear (my hostel being 15-20 mins away) I headed back to the stadium.  Tonite’s visitors were Dundalk, who’d brought maybe 150.  There was to be little to no animation from the away end tonite.

The home end was another matter, giving it some real noise.  Who’d have thought Slovan was such a hotbed?  For a side who normally play in front of a couple of thousand in the league, Slovan brought numbers this evening.  The official attendance was 20 shy of 10,000, about 5 times the norm.

The home end, with drummer and cheerleader.

Their zenith came in the second half, as, tipping it down with rain and us mortals running for cover, the ultras (of course) took their shirts, bared their chests and sang heartier.  I looked at the lightning overhead and mused on their chances.

Slovan did eventually nick the win, a late 20 yarder rebounding off the post for the cene forward to scuff in past a wrong-footed keeper.  No more than Slovan deserved, but harsh on the Irish keeper, who’d shone throughout.

Get your kit off for the lads!

Dundalk even had a later chance to equalise, the header down being tipped over on the up.  Otherwise, the pick of Dundalk’s team, for all the wrong reasons, was the centre forward.  He LOOKED like Shane Long.  He PLAYED like Shane Long (enthusiastic, small, ineffective).  Was it Shane Long?  (No.) 

Walking back, I got drenched within 5 mins and could take no more.  I made it to the main street  (next to the ice hockey stadium, all sports being catered for in this precinct) and stood for ages for the bus, along with others.  Not only was I freezing cold by now, but once on the bus I sat on some chewing gum in my new shorts.  When it’s not going for you…

I'm telling you.  It was teeming.

The Damage:

€12 ent

€26 beer and wursts
€5 badge
€2 plastic beaker
€1 prog

= €34

The Tunes:
none

Stayed at:
Freddie next to Mercury, Bratislava (€30, 2 nights)

The Main (exec) Stand.

concrete mixers still here...

Reward for climbing the stairs?

The view from the concourse.

The stadium blending into attached offices.

Spotless.

The queue for tickets.  Should have got here earlier...

The Dundalk massive.

Even their photographers are stunning.

A ballboy awaits some work.

The view from the bottom corner.

The home end.

The Main Stand.

The view from the top row.

The Slovan players celebrate at full-time.

The stadium lit up.

He's a pussycat, really.  Loves his mum.