Kevin Whitcher
So Tuesday night, after watching Turkey beat the Czechs at Lens’ stadium, I checked-in to the final accommodation of this trip in Lille. As in Marseille and Bordeaux, it was another in the ‘Stars’ chain, and my heart sunk when I realized this before actually getting there. However, this one is not too bad. Sure it is in a suburb on the edge of Lille, but there is actual stuff around this one, a metro station about two minutes walk away, and get this…. as it turns out the stadium is about a five minute walk from the hotel reception. Now that is what I call a result. After the long day of driving and the knowledge I did not even have to contemplate getting public transport or driving to my final match, I slept content.
So, to the day of my last match on this whirlwind tour of all ten venues used for Euro2016. I ventured into the centre of Lille for some lunch and it’s fair to say the Irish outnumbered the Italians substantially. It was a sea of green, in various states of inebriation. The main square had the phenomenon of at least three footballs being launched from one recipient to another, always hugely entertaining fare. There was singing to go along with the drinking, and the one thing you have to say about the Irish is that they know how to have a good time.
However, if you want to sit down and eat a meal in a restaurant to soak up some of that alcohol, don’t leave it too late. Even if there are thousands of hungry football fans in town, the chef knocks off at 2.30 sharp. I just made it, to treat myself to a calamari starter, followed by a chicken main course, and a 50cl carafe of rouge. The sun was shining and I wished I had been able to do this in more places, but the nature of the distances I have travelled meant that time was the enemy. There weren’t many lunchtimes when I wasn’t either on the road or making my way to a stadium in time for a 3pm kick off. Still, a nice way to finish.
Back at the hotel, I had a nap and then watched the Portugal v Hungary game, which turned into a bit of an epic until 10 minutes to go when both sides realized they were both going through as things stood, so the gloves came off. Cristiano Ronaldo finally showed up, and even those that can’t stand the vain sod would have to admit his first goal was top drawer.
Next, the stroll to the nearby stadium for the Republic against Italy. And I have to say, the throng to get in was the worst I have seen at any ground so far. There were two entrances, and the number of staff checking the tickets was simply inadequate. It was actually quite dangerous in my view, but fortunately the anxiety of people to get in as the clock ticked down did not create havoc, although it could easily have happened. I do not think England can play here now, but I would confidently predict the entrances being rushed if they were like this, should that be the case. As for the security search that followed. Granted, it is for our own safety, but I will be seeing the other half for the first time in just under a fortnight tomorrow evening and I do not expect the level of intimacy I got at the Lille stadium checkpoint. Every single item in my bag was removed – even a pair of glasses. Now I am no bomb expert, but come on. Let’s be sensible.
Anyway, I was a bit confused as I came to what I believed was my entrance as it looked for all the world like corporate hospitality. And you know what, it was. Except no free food and drink. The sections of the middle tier behind the goals are designed for the corporates, so I had to walk though a large box to access my seat. I assume that these might have been sold as part of hospitality packages if there were enough takers, but when they weren’t the seats were sold as normal seats. It is a fairly new stadium – opened four years ago, and I have to say it is another excellent new football ground, up there with Nice, Lyon and Bordeaux.
The stadium’s retractable roof had been closed. There were thunderstorms forecast, however, from what I have seen, as policy they have been closing the roof in this stadium as policy for the games in this tournament, which I thought was a shame. It was a hot day and it made the inside of the stadium feel a bit clammy. I have to say that the pitch didn’t look in great condition either.
As for the game, well… Italy were in a strange position of having the luxury of being able to lose by a hatful and still win the group. They were going to finish first whatever. So nine changes. Only defenders Barzagli and Bonucci remained from the win against Sweden. The Republic, of course, had to win. Nothing else would do or they were going home, and in fairness, the situation with the opposition certainly played into their hands. Italy seemed generally content with the draw, and Ireland really struggled to get any joy up front for a long time in this match. Generally, the tactic was to put crosses in and hope for the best, with the end result being the keeper either punching clear or catching. If you were a neutral, it wasn’t riveting. Still, the Irish seemed to improve in the second half and pressure eventually told with less than ten minutes remaining. Sub Wes Hoolihan missed a gilt edged one on one chance, but almost immediately afterwards, found the composure to deliver a great cross which Robbie Brady headed home before Siriglu in the Italian goal could reach it.
Robbie Keane had been about to enter as a sub, but sat down, with the goal secured. Predictably, the Italians started playing like the game mattered to them, but with no composure. They suddenly lost their ability to hold onto the ball and the game fizzled out to Irish delight.
Incredible to think that all four of the teams from Britain and Ireland made it through to the knockout stages. And let’s face it, Northern Ireland somehow got through while losing two matches out of the three. Still, the format of this tournament makes it one of second chances. We have had 36 matches to eliminate eight teams. The next eight will see the same number go home. It’s a bloated format, which provides drama in the sense that I think every team that went into its final group match had some hope of still qualifying. That was certainly the case with Turkey after two defeats, but the Republic’s win meant they were eliminated, along with Albania, out of the six third placed teams.
Interesting that out of the six groups, four of them were propped up by former communist bloc teams – Russia, Romania, Ukraine and the Czechs. Perhaps the number of players being imported into the domestic leagues of these teams is starting to reduce the quality of the national sides. Just a loose theory. By all means shoot it to pieces.
Anyway, the journey is almost done. This morning I begin the journey home and back to reality. And to watch the tournament as it actually begins in earnest with three days of knockout matches. In truth, all we have had so far is an indulgent UEFA feast of jockeying for position. And the way it has worked out is that the pre-tournament favourites are all in the same half of the draw. England seem to have got lucky with Iceland’s late winner giving them – in theory – an easier knockout game than Portugal, but I think we can confidently predict that if they do manage to progress they are unlikely to get past France in Paris (and you would have to believe the hosts will beat the Republic in their own last 16 game). The one sure thing about playing Iceland in Nice is that there won’t be any trouble with the opposition fans. However, the local youths will try to start something, and the police don’t need a second invitation. I foresee a lockdown on alcohol sales, but can it be enforced? Cue another verse of ‘Don’t Take Me Home…’
Anyway, yours truly is definitely going home. It’s been an experience. Exhausting, exhilarating and frustrating in parts, but the memories will live long, as will the dent to my credit card balance, even trying to do it on the cheap. I hope I have given you some flavour of what it is like to be out here attending the matches, but now I am looking forward to some good home cooking, and the feet up in front of the telly to watch the remaining 15 matches. To keep some content going on the site, I will probably post a few random notes after each knockout round, but as for the trip itself, I am all done. All ten stadiums in 12 days. I am not certain it could have been done any quicker, at least without the use of a private jet.
And on that note, it’s au revoir and onto Eurostar.
