Hamburger SV 1-0 SC Freiburg, Saturday 21st April 2018

Hamburger SV 1-0 SC Freiburg, Bundesliga (att. 54,847)

Welcome to ...

I’ve been aiming to visit Hamburger SV for a while and I’d decided I MUST see them while they are in the Bundesliga.  After all, they’re the only side never to have been relegated from the top division, and don’t they like to crow about it, having a digital clock in the north west corner commemorating how long they have served in the Bundesliga – to the second.  Former champions of Europe, nevermind Germany, I’ve been following Hamburger’s efforts to get relegated for several years.  The last 5 years have been one inexorable struggle whereby every year (seemingly) a late run, or a relegation play-off, saves them.  They’d turned into a German Aston Villa, simply existing, hanging around like a bad smell, depriving some other team who might do something, a place at the top table.

The clock.

However, finally…finally, this appears to be their year, the season they finally…finally…get relegated.  With 4 matches to go they’re 8 points off 3^rd (and 4^th and 5^th) off bottom.  3^rd off bottom and they have the reprieve of another relegation play-off.  And who’re today’s visitors?  Why, it’s 3^rd off bottom Freiburg.  With a keen eye on the table, I’d hoped this would be Freiburg’s chance to deliver the coup de grace, the final shot.  However, this couldn’t be, as 5^th off bottom Wolfsburg had been beaten the night before.  So, a Hamburger victory and the dream would live on.

Inside the Volkparkstadion.

The stadium was easy to get to, a S-bahn (train) to Stellingen.  I was staying in St. Pauli, so there was a direct service from Reeperbahn station.  Once at Stellingen, it’s a 20 minute walk, mainly through forest and around a hill.  Not quite the Waldstadion, Frankfurt, as there were great views of some industrial park or other, but pleasant enough, pedestrianised.  With my partner needing the toilet, we were keen to get inside, so it was blow when I wasn’t allowed in because of my small bag.  We were directed to put it inside a container (the same thing happens at Dortmund…and Hallescher) but the container was full.  We ended up doing a lap of the stadium, to no avail.  There wasn’t another container.  Having considered the options, I took the stuff out of my bag (a newspaper), folded it up, and put it in my partner’s handbag.  Brilliant, we were in!

The crowd outside Stellingen.

By now, kick-off time was approaching.  Considering this was all my idea, I thought I’d better get the beer and wurst in, which meant missing the teams coming out, but whatthehell?  I heard the music leading up to the club’s anthem.  If you can imagine the theme to The Third Man, played on some kind of acoustic guitar, getting faster and faster.  It was unique, I’ll say that.

We were in the upper tier, behind the goal opposite the ultras.  I’d bought them on HSV’s website several weeks earlier.  Say what I like about wanting them to lose, these were the most spacious seats I’ve ever had at a stadium, plenty of room for folk to get past even if you were sat down.  Heaven compared to being jammed in at Old Trafford.  If you like the full sitting down in huge megastadium experience, this is well worth a visit, though for sheer passion and enjoyment, you're better off on the terraces of St. Pauli.

The Hamburger SV ultras.

It was an exciting game too.  Both sides had chances in the 1^st half, though Freiburg can kick themselves for not putting the game to bed, missing several gilt-edged opportunities, including one bizarre scramble where they had 3 or 4 shots. Needless to say, these things come back to bite you, and in the second half, Lewis Holtby (former Spurs reserve) slotted home the winner to the delight of over 50,000 Hamburgers.  Indeed, he’d been the stand-out performer for the red shorts, not just in the way he played, but in the way he was chief cheerleader, constantly cajoling the supporters into making some noise. He certainly hasn’t given up the cause and the fans were up for it, a cacophony of sound throughout.  Can HSV do the unthinkable and survive AGAIN?  I'm almost hoping they do.  Almost.

The Damage (for 2):

€26 ent (x2)

€5 delivery to England

= €57

I can’t remember how much the beer and sausages were, probably around €3-€3.50 each.

Volksparkstadion panorama.

Collecting the empties...

1st view of stadium.

HSV offices next door.

Where's my entrance?

Spot the ball.

The net, embossed with club badge.

The Freiburg fans (in the corner).

The exec area and behind.

WTF?  Hamburger SV mascot.

Christian Streich on the Freiburg bench.  Or not on it.

 

Full-time.

The ultras celebrate.

Training pitches behind the stadium.

BFC 2-2 Bolton Wanderers, Saturday 14th April 2018

‘The worst 6 teams I’ve seen this season are Barnsley’

On such small details do entire season’s cling….It is the 82^nd minute.  Barnsley are leading fellow relegation rivals Bolton Wanderers 1-0.  Not a comfortable lead, by any means, but there’s a sense we’ve seen off the worst of it and are looking good for the win.  OK, the Trotters may have a corner, but we’ve seen off all their other ones, so why worry?  The ball comes over, it’s headed on, but before anyone gets to it, the ref has blown.  ‘Oh, that’s alright then’ I think, as I can only presume he’s given us a free kick.  But no!  It’s a penalty to Bolton.  I have no idea where the ref’s got that one from, but I can only presume (again) that he has a much better view, and wouldn’t give anything if less than certain.  Le Fondre bangs the ball down the middle while Davies dives left.  

I have since seen the ‘penalty’ 5 times on television (make that 10; I’ve just watched it 5 more times on youtube).  I don’t see anything in it.  Their player falls down, to be sure, but I don’t see what Moncur, or anyone else, has done to him.  If it’s Moncur, it must be the ‘hand of God’.  Certainly, the omnipotent one wasn’t doing us any favours.  Of course, I wouldn’t mind if it was a level playing field (not literally, I like the slight slope at Oakwell) but the ref has already ignored a blatant penalty for us at 1-0 when Kiefer Moore, favourite to get to a front post cross, is completely barged over and misses it.  I honestly don’t know how the ref saw that any other way, but I can accept it.  What is difficult to accept is giving Bolton a softer one.  And I’m only talking about two decisions; the other Londontykes can list an armful of inept ‘decisions’ (and did, on the journey home).

Moore had earlier been booked (presumably for ‘persistent misconduct’). Well, it was back to the good old days, as a big, bad centre forward took on a big bad centre half, and the ref gave a free kick pretty much everytime the ball reached them, tossing a coin before deciding which way he’d give it.  Clueless.  As for how McBurnie’s shirt stayed on his torso…let’s just say they’re well made, given the amount of pulling of it which went on (unnoticed).  Mind, the ref also missed a sly elbow in the face from McBurnie (revenge for vice versa) so it’s fair to say the ref had a….mixed game.  If we had VAR we’d still be at Oakwell now.

We’d gone ahead in the first half.  Alnwick (Remember him? ‘Alnwick.  He makes me panic.’) fumbles a corner (shades of Davies and/or Townsend) and McBurnie turns a guy on the back post before having his shot cleared off the line and rebound blocked.  The ball runs loose and it’s that man GARDNER again, 2^nd week in a row, hammering it into the roof of the net from 12 yards.
Chances either side are later missed, before THAT pen.  We’ve thrown it away.  From probably staying up, to probably relegated in a second.  3 mins later we’ve advanced to ‘certainly relegated’ as Bolton nick a 2^nd.  Our heads have clearly gone down and the defence are panicking.  Yiadom beats his own keeper to the ball and the loose ball falls to them to shoot in.  Either Davies has to put a name on it, or Yiadom has to bloody listen.  I don’t know what stunned us more; their penalty award or this.
However, we seem to be made of sterner stuff this last fortnight, as, instead of withering and dying, we decide to PUT UP A FIGHT.  We pile men forward and in injury time, get a corner.  Hammill (I think) curls it in, Moore gets the flick on, and it’s that man MCBURNNNNNNIE heading in from close range.  We have staved off relegation for another week.  Thinking of last week’s late shenanighans against the Blunts, my mate Shaka Hislop comments ‘it’s like de ja vous all over again’. 

Celebrating the opener.

*** Gardner.  What I mainly liked, apart from his goal (obvs), was his ability and willingness to track back and chase.  The amount of Bolton counter-attacks which Gardner dealt with were…numerous.  Twitter MOTM.
** McBurnie.  Ohhhhhh Ollie McBurnie.  Our only hope does it again.  If he does it another 4 times we met yet stay up.  Somehow.  I can watch him all day, the way he ungracefully skins the opposition despite no obvious skill or pace.  And everyone loves an ungainly footballer, eh Casper?

* Moore.  Held a ball up, led line well, took s*** from defenders (and the ref), set up the equaliser…coulda, woulda, shouda had a penalty.

Londontykes' MOTM:  1. Gardner  2. McBurnie  3. Moore

Despatches:

Did I mention the ref had an interesting game?  A season is 46 matches, but, I’m sorry, luck does NOT even itself out over a season.  Not when you’re 2 points behind your rivals with 5 to play.  Finally, finally, we are starting to show something, but we need them points.  The £60 worth of betting man in me still says we’re going down.  But all 4 of our last games are winnable in their own way.  

This is difficult, given it’s 3 days later.  Yiadom was poor, though still cleared one off the line. Fryers I don’t remember, which was an improvement on the week before, when I still can.  Lindsay and Jackson were solid (am I repeating myself?), then Jackson went off at half time for Pinnock.  Like for like. Moncur looked confident on the ball, though without the killer pass, while Hammill worked hard and got the odd cross over.  Potts was up and down the pitch.  I can’t remember Davies having much to do, apart from picking the proverbial couple of goals out of the net.

Onwards and upwards!  BELIEVE!

Away: c2200.  

The Damage:
£28 train
= £28

The Tunes:
Mixed Up (The Cure)
Mogwai Young Team (Mogwai)

BFC 3-2 Sheffield United, Saturday 7th April 2018

‘We’re Sheffield United, we’re sending you down.’

Welcome to...the programme queue.

What a day.  What a game. Local giants Sheffield United come to town and become the 1^st side in 13 matches to have their ar5es kicked by the Super Reds.  The embarrassment of it all.  Even worse, they’ve only thrown away a second half lead, and their fans' crowing was well and truly stuffed down their fat necks, as ‘We’re Sheffield United, we’re sending you down’ soon became ‘You’re Sheffield United, You’re keeping us up.’  Couldn’t happen to a nicer bunch of lads.

Read it and weep.

Mind, we shoulda been out of sight by half time, as we played them off the park.  Jose wisely kept the team which played so promisingly against Bristol City and we were so nearly rewarded early doors.  Moncur cracked one off the bar following a short corner routine, while Moore was winning everything up top.  Now, if only other players would run towards where Moore was aiming his knockdowns. Or, at least, run there BEFORE he makes the header.  Anticipation, etc.  But nevermind, a corner is cleared and Aston Villa’s Gardner hits an ABSOLUTE SCREAMER into the top corner form 20 yards. It was still rising when it hit the net.  Unstoppable. As ever, this makes him think he can shoot, and his next effort finds the crowd.

A minute's applause for Ray Wilkins, R.I.P.

We get in at half time, 1-0, thoroughly pleased with ourselves, but worried that we hadn’t built a bigger lead.  The only concern in the opening 45 was Fryers inability to defend and McBurnie’s inability to cover (though it seems a waste of your best forward if he’s having to scrap it out in defence too).  Luckily, the 3 or 4 times they got clear on their right (with the same ‘give and go’ each time; do we NOT learn???), the crosses lacked quality.  Or was it merely the superiority of our centre halves?

The Blunt hordes.

Surely the Blunts would improve after the break though?  Unfortunately, this was exactly the case, as we were penned in our box from the start. Also, Billy Blunt was on as sub and he ALWAYS scores against us, right?  Quick, one-touch passes left us all over the place and the desperate defending had ‘last 10 minutes’ written all over it.  We were defending deep, but I have to say the Blunts looked very slick.  And just as we thought we might ride the wave, they equalise, sidestepping Potts to bury it in the corner.  No less than they deserved.  Heads went down in our team, but on comes talisman Hammill for Isgrove.

The Ponty End v Sheff U.

6 mins later, it’s 2-1.  A catastrophic panic between Davies and Lindsay leads to pinball, where the only player with any composure is wearing a purple shirt.  We are down, we are out, we are f***ed, we are relegated.  Jose takes Moncur off. WTF? He was the best player on the pitch in the 1^st half.  But he’s barely touched it 2^nd half and we have 25 mins to save our season. On comes Bradshaw.  That’s it.  We really DO need a miracle now.

I need a hero...on comes Bradshaw.

Well, if we need a miracle, who better to turn to than former Messiah Adam Hammill. He’s had enough of players not looking like scoring, so cuts inside and has a go himself from 20 odd yards, with his weaker left.  The (reserve?) keeper makes a hash of the save and the ball falls kindly to new Messiah, Swansea City’s Ollie McBurnie, who has fast become my favourite Swansea player of all time. He is absolutely fabulous, I love him. Looks a less likely footballer than Peter Kay (‘ave it!), I could watch him all day.  Just don’t let him have to defend.  He dribbles the ball over the line and three sides of Oakwell go potty.  What a difference a goal makes. I can’t remember the last time a crowd went from this level of disconsolation to ecstasy in a game.  

2nd half action...the Super Reds hang on.

I’m sat upstairs this week, in my old seat and with time ticking, Stewart announces he’s leaving.  He always leaves after 87 mins, heart problems, needing to beat the rush.  ‘But you’ll miss their winner’ I say.  ‘It’s our turn today, lad’ are his parting words (he’s not dead, he was just leaving…), and he can’t have been halfway down the staircase when IT HAPPENS.

Moore bangs a ball across goal on the half volley…sublime…and Tom Bradshaw does what Tom Bradshaw does best…nails a header from 4 yards out.  Feed the Bradders and he will score. Make him do it himself, and he can’t.  Pandemonium.  Disbelief.  Shock.  Awe.  And loads of other words which can’t quite describe the f***ing amazingness of what we’ve seen.  You f***ing Reds!  We play our the last few minutes (and injury time) pretty comfortably.   

A busy camera gantry.

Today is all about Jose’s favourite word: belief.  And maybe after today, the players can kick on and get the points we need to deny me £60 this season.  (Oh yes, in the euphoria of winning, I found another gullible idio…mate willing to bet me a tenner we’ll stay up. Step forward Marius.)

*** Moore.  Won everything, held the ball up, set up the winner.  Shame he couldn’t get the ball from under his feet when clean through…was it 1-0 at the time?  Twitter MOTM.
** Gardner.  Another impressive match without Williams getting in his way finally has its rewards.  Obvs he scored a cracker, but the amount of times he chased back to delay a Blunt attack, or put a tackle in, or played the ball to a red shirt.  After a slow start, he’s won me over.

* McBurnie.  Who cares that he can’t defend?  The way the ball sticks to him is something else.  The way he dribbles past players without any need for skill, style, speed or grace.  The way he knows where the onion bag is, and can pick a pass.  The boy is a class act.  Too good for us.

Londontykes' MOTM:  1. Moore  2. Gardner  3. Moncur

Despatches:

Jackson and Lindsay were solid in defence.  Yiadom was composed throughout.  Moncur orchestrated the 1^st half dominance.  Isgrove combined well with Yiadom in defence, but offered little going forward, at one point messing up a 4 on 2 counter attack.  Potts drove hard from midfield while the subsHammill and Bradshaw proved their worth, both putting a shift in as well as being heavily involved in two goals.  Davies had little to do, and don’t be fooled by The Championship’s highlights of him making a great save from a header…it was offside.  The only disappointment was Fryers, who couldn’t defend to save his life, though at least he made a few forward runs.

And special mention to our mad manager, Jose, who, at the end, had the players run towards the Ponty, hands linked, to salute the fans a la European teams (and Huddersfield).  I know many of our cynics find it a bit ‘cringey’, but as someone else pointed out:  if we’re doing this every week it’s cos we’re WINNING.  We left Oakwell to the strains of The Monkees ‘I’m a believer.’  That word again. 

 
It’s great to be a Barnsley fan once more.

Onwards and upwards!

Away: 4,657.  Capacity, in this day and age where plod decides 1200+ seats are ‘unsafe’.  

The Damage:
£28 train
£3 prog
= £31

The Tunes:
No tunes.  Just Marius yap yap yapping.  Just what I need at half seven in a morning following beers and  late night (sorry Marius!)

Panorama v Sheff U.

Down the hill to Oakwell.

The teams line up.

Oh no, it's all going wrong.

Tooting and Mitcham United 1-4 Leatherhead, Monday 2nd April 2018

Tooting and Mitcham United 1-4 Leatherhead (att. c200), Isthmian League, Premier Division

Say no more...

A week or so ago, I decided I’d give Barnsley FC a miss on Easter Monday. It’s bad enough losing every week, but the new manager appears tactically devoid, and the train fares were ridiculous. In the end, it was a good job: Forest away was postponed, rained off. Plan B was go and see my local team, Dulwich Hamlet, at Kingstonian (who play at Leatherhead). This would be some irony, going to watch The Hamlet (freshly kicked out of their ground) play away at Kingstonian (kicked out of their ground when AFC Wimbledon sold their stadium to Chelsea). On a whim, I checked the game was on before I left the house. ‘Pitch inspection at 11:30’ I was told. Never a good sign, game was called off due to waterlogging.

Back of the Main Stand...in T&M's black and white stripes.

Thus, it was Plan C – go to see Kingstonian’s landlords, Leatherhead, play at Dulwich’s new landlords, Tooting and Mitcham. Are you keeping up? Anyway, at least a chance to scout out the route, ready for when I go see Hamlet there. And good job I did too, as it took me 2 bloody hours from Peckham! No news on National Rail of the trains being called off from Streatham, the rail replacement bus left without announcement, I caught another bus to somewhere in Tooting (or Mitcham – I don’t know the area), to get a connecting bus to Mitcham Junction, which was walkable to the ground. Only it wasn’t (the way I went). Expecting a pleasant walk through open heath, I got sucked into an industrial estate before wandering alongside the River Wandle, with no prospect of a crossing to the ground on the other side.

The Fens, Mitcham.

At least I could hear the tannoy through the trees, so carried on till I hit the main road and a bridge. (I’d return this way, a bus to Tooting Broadway, then hitting the Northern Line. Way easier, 1 hour 20 the way back, tho this kills my theory that everywhere in London takes an hour to get to. But is Mitcham ‘London’?) I’d missed kick off by a couple of minutes, but it was easy in, through what looked like the only turnstile open. I guess 2nd off bottom Tooting weren’t expecting a big crowd, and they were right…about 200, with a good quarter coming from Leatherhead.

The turnstiles.

I can see why Dulwich would choose to come here too. There’s two large terraces behind each goal (certainly larger than the ones at Champion Hill), both with cover, and a decent cantilever main stand. However, the roofs are all too high, and the stands behind the goals have no backing, meaning the wind howls through them. So if it rains, the rain would still blow in. These stands would be better off in hotter climes, protecting fans from the sun. Luckily, the rain had eased off, though there was a breeze.

Behind the goal with the 'head.

I stood behind the goal at the end I’d entered, with the throng of Leatherhead fans. The pitch was extremely heavy, the ball barely rolled, and players found themselves unable to pass a ball 20 yards without resorting to the hoof. The enormous Tooting centre half was particularly adept at the launching of a clearance to nobody in particular. Still, Tooting broke, and a long range shot from wide cannoned off the far post. At this point, I didn’t realise Tooting had lost 7 (seven) in a row and were 2nd off bottom – they looked the better team.

Leatherhead fans (and their pints).

Unfortunately, it didn’t last. In a scramble (a corner?) a T&M player cannoned into the back of an opponent, who collapsed spectacularly. Penalty, 0-1. Then, Leatherhead had a corner, which was poorly played to the front (right hand) post. The left back, inexplicably on the post for the RIGHT footer, messed up the clearance with his left, another corner. The ball was put into the SAME spot, only the left back this time swung and missed (did the opposition know how inept he was?) and the ball hit a Leatherhead player, before he had the wits about him to turn and poke it home. ‘Leather Leather Leather Leather Leather-head’ sang the away support.

The penalty is despatched.

Half time came and a chance to have a walk around the stadium. The 4th side has a couple of steps and a corrugated metal back, to prevent anyone watching the game for free from the fields behind. They could do with some of this at the back of those open ends. There’s a couple of steps, more than enough for the dozen or so watching from this side in the 1st half.

I’d also seen people with beer, but I never did locate where they were acquired; it mattered not, it wasn’t the weather for one for me. I walked around to the Main Stand and grabbed a tea and a Snickers. £1.80. Professional clubs take note.

The Far Side.

2nd half was another gruelling effort on the stodge of a pitch. T&M were holding their own, till Leatherhead scored two from rebounds, the keeper’s excellent saves not matched by any of his defenders following up to clear. With a few of the home support drifting off, there was finally something for the homers to cheer, with a late deflected long range effort. There were a few claps, but the biggest response was from the clearly disappointed Leatherhead keeper; no clean sheet today.

Full-time and a comfortable win for the ‘head. (I know they’re ‘The Head’ cos therir fans kept singing as such.) It was good to see a new ground. The Tooting and Mitcham experience lacks for the atmosphere of, say, Dulwich, or the sociability of Carshalton, but with three tallish stands and very few supporters, you get a decent view. Shame about the football.

The Damage:
£10 ent
£2 programme

The Tunes:
Lazaretto (Jack White)
Art of the State (Pressure of Speech)
Return to the Source (Various)

Tooting panorama from the Main Stand.

Tooting panorama from behind the goal.

Match action.

Imperial Fields, AKA the 'KNK Stadium'

The Main Stand.

The Far Side faithful.

Isolated flooding.

Surely there's an 'and' missing?

Main Stand.

No doubting the substitution.

The view from the Main Stand.

Built like a rugby player...and covered in mud like one too.

Still no 'and'.

The away end, 2nd half.

The Main Event.