July 5, 2009

Debt! Who needs debt when you have profit!

In April 2009 Forbes magazine published a list of the World 25 Richest clubs.  The list unsurprisingly is headed by Manchester United and Real Madrid, with Arsenal surprisingly in third place.  What how do they actually define profit?  Well as only a few of the clubs in the Top 25 are publically listed they can actually be very ambiguous in how they class certain expenses and so the true position is slightly different.  Profit is also a short term measure.  You can run a business at a loss for years on end and pile up massive debt but in one year when you actually make profit you could appear on this list simply by selling one player, or the naming rights to a stadium.

So Manchester United’s £80m sale of Christiano Ronaldo to Real Madrid will almost certainly keep them at the top of the list next season as that is money they apply straight away to their P & L.  Now here’s the thing.  Accounting regulations allow them to book that money straight away as revenue, despite the fact Real Madrid may only pay the £80m in installments.  And Real Madrid will not show an £80m payment all in one go, they will write that off over a period of years – thus completely defeating the object of double-keeping in accounting.

So in order to judge which clubs are the best run financially in the world we should consider the long term situation, and the impact of debt.  At the start of the 2008/09 Premier League season there were only two clubs who had no debt – Hull City and unbelievably West Ham United.  Despite all of the financial issues surrounding the club, West Ham actually had no debt.  That was because when the original Icelandic take over went through, the debt was wiped out completely and transfered to the parent company, Hansa.  When Hansa went under then their assets which included the club were transfered to new owners, but the club was/is still debt free (apparently).

So, according to World Soccer Magazine the list of the most indebted clubs in the world can be revealed as:-

1. Manchester United – esimated debt £699million.  Includes interest accuring at 14.25% annually on the original £556m Glazer family loans.

Estadio Bernabau2. Real Madrid – £494million.  No surprises here and this is before the borrowing from various banks for Kaka and Ronaldo.  Very little in terms of assets they can sell off to re-finance as well.

3. Atletico Madrid – £449million.  Built up over decades chasing the La Liga dream.  Some expensive acquisitions have got them to this point although a deal to sell their Vincente Calderon stadium is due soon to reduce this.

mestalla4. Valencia – £441million.  Up to their necks in it.  Their new stadium is only partly built as they still cannot find a buyer for the Mestalla.  Even the sale of prize asset David Villa will not even make a dent in this amount.

The Emirates5. Arsenal – £416million.  Poor deluded Gunners who think they are financially secure because of the stadium.  They borrowed £200m for its construction and now owe double that.  Wenger’s transfer inactivity is nothing to do with his prudence.  Failure to make the Champions League Group Stages will have a serious impact on them financially.

Nou Camp6. Barcelona – £384million*.  Despite being the best team in the world, and the highest average attendance, the club is in serious debt like the rest of them.

7. Chelsea – £339million.  Halved from the £701m last year but that is because £360million owed to owner Abramovich was converted into shares in Chelsea Village plc.  Peter Kenyon made some bold statements in the past that Chelsea would be profitable by 2010, and this is how – convert debt (and interest) to equity.

Stadio Olimpico 8. AS Roma – £330million.  The most indebted Italian club and one that has lurched from crisis to crisis.  Do not own their own stadium so cannot use that as a bargaining chip.  The Sensi family who own the club are being put under pressure to seriously reduce this amount.

Liverpool9. Liverpool – £313million.  And you wonder why the stadium project is so slow to start.  Neither Gillett or Hicks is prepared to dig deeper into their own pockets considering they still owe so much.

10. Deportivo La Coruna – £257million*.  Remember La Coruna?  Tried to challenge the big two a few years back, reached the Champions League semi-final?  Sounds a bit like Leeds United really, but far far more serious.  Now light years behind on the pitch and limited commercial opportunities off the pitch.

11. Villarreal – £210million*. The latest Spanish club to try and break the big two.  Some success so far but at what price?

12. Fulham – £197million.  A surprise to many to be so high up on a global football list, but Mohamed Al-Fayed has ploughed in over £174million into the club in over a decade which will need to be paid back at some point we would think.  The real estate value of Craven Cottage is undoubtably worth more than the overall debt though.

City of Manchester13. Manchester City – £147million.  Still waiting for annual accounts to see how this debt has been accounted for by the new owners.  Will give Real Madrid a run for their money in terms of spending this year though, although they will struggle to make an impact on the higher reaches of the Premier League for a few seasons.

14. Espanyol – £133million*. Building of their new stadium near the airport has increased the overall debt.

The San Siro15. Internazionale – £125million.  Whilst they are the current Serie A champions, and have a wealthy benefactor in Massimo Moratti, they have few assets to their name which is a concern.

16. Racing Santander – £120million*.  Who, many will say.  Highest finish in La Liga has been8th back in 2008, never won a major trophy and play in a very small stadium in hardly a hot bed of football.  Have not got a clube how they could have run up so much debt!

17. Newcastle United – £106million.  Oh dear.  Heavily in debt, relegated from the Premier League, owner trying to off load the club.  Not looking good for a team that played Champions League football 10 years ago.

18. Real Zaragoza – £98million*.  Another Spanish club who have racked up debts trying to keep up with the big boys and have suffered relegation all too recently.

19. Sevilla – £96million*.  Recent on field success in the domestic leagues and two UEFA Cup’s have not translated into success financially.

Riverside Middlesbrough20. Middlesbrough – £93million.  Thank God for Steve Gibson who has covered all of their debts, including the building of the Riverside and some expensive overseas imports that has seen the club suffer relegation twice in ten years.

*Figures for Spanish clubs estimated by Professor Gay, a leading football industry commentator through his blog.

So to summarise, the Premier League is the richest in the world but had eight of the most indebted clubs within its legion of twenty last season, owing a whopping £2.2 BILLION.  Spain’s La Liga topped that with over £2.7 billion – quite unbelievable.  Notice there are no German clubs here – a league that has proper financial controls.

And I worried when I missed a payment date on my credit card!!

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June 30, 2009

Forty three years of hurt

So against most expectations our young lions reached the final of the UEFA Under21’s Championship in Sweden. As a fan it had been a good tournament. The Swedes love football, love guests and love having a bit of a party, as long as everyone leaves by 11pm and takes their rubbish home with them. England had comfortably won their group, and even had the luxury of fielding an almost reserve team (not really possible as they had 3 goalkeepers in their squad of 22) for their final group game against Germany. In the semi-final they had thrown away a three goal lead thanks in part to the inexperience of a number of players (step forward Mr Campbell) and some clinical finishing from my man of the tournament, Marcus Berg.

Extra time failed to yield a winner so penalties were needed and for once England held their nerve and were victorious, but not before the bizarre decision to give Joe Hart a yellow card for making funny faces at the Swedes had taken the dampner off events as he would miss the final.

Germany came through a tricky tie with Italy, setting up a game in Malmo against our old enemies. England fans had tried to make the trip in numbers but had been prevented by the cost of the flights. Ryanair were the last airline to fly direct to Malmo and that route ended some 18 months ago meaning the only real route was via Copenhagen. Whilst choice on this route has improved considerably in the past year with newbies CimberAir and Norwegian offering routes from Gatwick, they are not cheap. Last week, on trying to arrange my weekly trip out here I was quoted over five hundred pounds each way by both BA and SAS!

Thomson Sport though came to the EnglandFans rescue. They advertised that IF the team got to the final they would run a trip. Direct flight to Malmo, coach transfers and a match ticket….all for just THREE HUNDRED POUNDS!!!! No overnight stay or meal…With less than 48 hours to the final they cancelled the trip as only 35 fans had booked up…shocking attitude and again a prime example of the greed in the game.

I had luckily enough booked my travel earlier in the month and was coming out here anyway, so on a swelteringly hot day in Malmo (even hotter in London though at 32 degrees) I crossed the Oresund for the final game of teh tournament. England had opted for Scott Loach instead of Joe Lewis in goal and aimed to play Walcott as the central striker in the absence of Agbonlahor (injured) and Campbell (suspended) supported by James Milner and Adam Johnson. Ahh the interesting Mr Johnson. Let me give you the quote he game to UEFA for the tournament programme.

“I like to think I am organised. On my iPod its all about R & B. I tend to have a bit of banter with the lads on the way to the games instead of using music to get into the zone. If I forget my laptop, I would buy a new one out there, thats how important it is.”

So poor little footballer cannot bear to be without a laptop so he has to buy a new one? Is it any wonder they get stick??

Anyway, a quick change back in the hotel and I was in the stadium in good time, not wanting to miss out on possibly the one and only final I see England play in in my lifetime. Looking at the team sheet you do wonder how many of these players would go on to make the senior squad. Kieran Gibbs could be a successor to the odious Ashley Cole, but will he play often enough at Arsenal? Micah Richards and Nedum Onouha had looked OK at centre backs but what hope do they have at Manchester City now that the likes of Eto’o are joining on two hundred thousand a week. Mark Noble and Theo Walcott have got nearly a century of games under their belts at club level and both could go further, although Noble may have to wait for Lampard/Gerard/Barry to be given “one more chance” to show it can work in the centre of midfield. Cranie? Cattermole? Muamba? Hard to see them adding to the senior team. Out of the starting XI only Gibbs and Walcott would be eligible to play in the next qualifying competition anyway so this really was the last opportunity of a generation.

England 0 Germany 4 – Swedbank Stadion, Malmo – Monday 29th June 2009

How many will never play for England again?

How many will never play for England again?

All the big wigs were here for this one. Ex-UEFA president Leonnard Johansson, Sir Trevor and Michel Platini all took their seats and the closing ceremony unfolded on the pitch – at least this time it was at the right game (see Come on You Cubs post). After the strange looking singer had finished her song we had possibly the weakest singing of the national anthem since the game in Halmstad versus Finland. The stadium was by no means full and there were a few flags of St George dotted around.

England started off with Walcott roaming across the German back four and he nearly made a perfect start, blazing wide in the second minute. England had control of the game and at one point strung together nearly thirty consecutive passes although it was hardly like watching Brazil. Then all of a sudden the Germans found their feet. Prompted by Werder Bremen’s Mesut Ozil in midfield they started pushing England back and almost had an equaliser in the 14th minute when Ozil’s shot was blocked.

Ten minutes later and their attacking flair produced the opening goal. This is not a traditional German team and the industry and workrate of the likes of current players such as Ballack and Metzelder have been replaced by the skill of Ozil, Castro and Boateng. Ozil played a marvellous ball between Cranie and Richards for Castro to run on and side foot past Loach.

There is a revolution in German football and I was witnessing it first hand. Gone are the Torsten’s and Andreas’s (well almost) and in have come Benedikt’s (Howedes), Sami (captain Khedira) and Gonzalo Castro – and with a name like that he can look forward to a warm stress free welcome into the US any time.

England simply could not get near the Germans. The stress of the occasion seemed to have got to Stuart Pearce at one point as he gave the 4th official a big hug – very fetching in his tight black tracksuit. It could have so easily been 2-0 when Sebastian Boenisch’s drive shaved the post and their “Mediterranean” style midfield were having a ball.

Half time brought the Swedish team onto the pitch for a lap of honour after their exploits and the crowd rose generously to acknowledge them and the entertainment they gave during the tournament. We didn’t have to wait long after the restart for some more fun though, although it was at the expense of goalkeeper Scott Loach who completely misread Khedira’s free kick from thirty yards and ended up palming the ball into the net. The Germans knew that was game over and their celebrations on the bench must have been a hard sight for Pearce. Cattermole almost lifted our spirits with a rasping drive in the 57th minute which hit the bar, and Milner’s jinking run in the 62nd minute deserved a better finish than Adam Johnson’s weak side foot straight at Neuer.

Pearce hadn’t given up the fight and when a very rash tackle from Boenisch in front of the bench flattened Milner it looked like “Psycho” was gonna jump on the field and nut the German. A few minutes later and he was screaming at the fourth official when he didn’t give a penalty after Johnson was flawed but again he chose love and not hate, ending up in another clinch with the official.

England simply did not have the attacking options, and Campbell sitting a few rows in front of me should have been ashamed watching this. Walcott is a great player but our constant long ball play was not suited to his style of play, and the impressive Jerome Boateng easily marked him out of the game.

Seventy five minutes on the clock and Sandro Wagner missed an absolute sitter from three yards out but he made up for it a few minutes later when he calmly slotted the ball between Loach’s legs after another great ball from man of the match Ozil. The German bench went mad, running into the corner to celebrate the goal which was a bridge too far for the England team. To add injury to insult a fourth was scored by Wagner, curling the ball in from the edge of the box. This time the goalkeeper decided to sprint the length of the pitch to join in the celebration, earning a ticking off from the linesman in the process.

The game ended with England playing Micah Richards up front as he was likely to score a hatrick. Based on the sloppy defending and the way the Germans were slicing through the midfield surely he would have been better served at the back? England just wanted the final whistle so that they could retreat back home. Good job that Fabio Capello had been unable to make his connecting flight in London from South Africa to see this – he would not have been amused.

Four nil to the underdogs is normally something out of boys own but in this case it was fully deserved. Mesut Ozil was quite rightly awarded the man of the match award. The tournament had started in the heat in Halmstad and ended in the same conditions 100 miles south. Many of these players would not go on to play for their country again, and this would be a tragic game to remember as their last international.

Platini gave out the medals and the trophy as the yellow tickertape fell all around. Sir Trevor gallantly led the English team before cutting a lonely figure at the end of the presentation line, smiling that smile and shaking hands with all of the Germans.

My night was far from over. The Swedes do many things very well. Public transport is not one of them. After waiting on a bus outside the stadium until it was full to busting the driver decided there was too many people on and asked if anyone wanted to get off. When no one came forward he randomly chose some locals to alight and off we went, stopping at every stop along the way despite there being no room on board, and that everyone wanted to go to the station. Every time I have got a train from Malmo it has left late. Tonight when it was the last one for nearly 90 minutes it left slap bang on time, leaving me without a (Swedish) Kroner to my name and a long wait. There’s always 2011 in Denmark!!!!!

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June 29, 2009

Beckenham Palace

You may remember dear reader that last Sunday on Father’s Day I was absent from the Fuller household, enjoying the sunshine and “local” sights in Oslo.  Instead of simply dismissing this US-created excuse for the card industry for another year, the little Fullers wanted to treat Daddy and so we postponed it a week.  So queue a lie in, breakfast in bed, some very pleasing presents and an offer to attend the cricket at Beckenham was forthcoming - which of course it would have been rude to have turned down.

I had actually managed to sneak another quick Twenty20 game in on Thursday night, watching Surrey get absolutely stuffed by the Essex Eagles at the Oval.  Surrey had been the team to beat for nearly five years but their team had grown old and the way that Alastair Cook destroyed their attack at the Oval was a sign of the new order.  Cook went on to get 100 not out in an innings of power and control, not giving one single chance away in his 57 ball innings.

So Surrey were already eliminated from the competition, and Kent’s successive wins over Surrey and Hampshire meant that they were guaranteed a Quarter Final berth anyway. So it appeared to be a “dead rubber”, but as the game was being played at Beckenham, it was  too much of a draw to miss.  Beckenham is our closest “county ground” and I use that in the loosest sense of the word as although it is only 5.2 miles from Chez Fuller it is certainly not in Kent!  It sits almost on the South Circular in the shadow of the huge TV ariels of Crystal Palace in South London.  The ground, which Kent use once a year for two matches sits on the old Lloyds Bank Sports Ground.

It was here that in 1989 I completed a unique treble.  At the time I worked for the bank and played for them in three different sports.  In early May 1989 I hit 102 not out on the very square that Kent Spitfires would be using.  My innings was not quite in the same league as Mr Cook’s as it look me over 3 hours and I believe from memory I faced nearly 150 balls, but it still remains one of my two only centuries.  The following day I played for Lloyds Bank Park Lane versus Lloyds Bank Mayfair in a real grudge match.  I had the type of game that newspapers would have a field day over.  A hatrick by halftime, including a 25 yard free kick and a very very rare Fuller header (only three in my whole career) had set me up nicely, and when I back heeled a fourth in after an hour it was all rosey….and then I got Sent Off.  I rose to the bait of a young whipper snapper from the machine room (banking sounded so exciting back then) and smacked him one.  Right in front of the referee who happened to be our Area Manager as well…Ouch.

Three days later I was back, making my debut for the bank at Hockey and I managed to score a goal, although the four I had chalked off still riles with me today – after all what sort of game has rules where you can’t “turn” or use the outside of your stick to dribble!

Those were the days and today the Bank’s sports ground is no more – sold off to finance an Exec’s pension fund or something.  I would like to think that the small plaque that was put up on the wall to commemorate my century still sits with some historian somewhere, although I doubt it very much.

Kent Spitfires 184-7 beat Surrey Brown Caps 168-9 by fifteen runs – Beckenham – Sunday 28th June

Robert Key's right at home here!

Robert Key's right at home here!

 London was in the grips of a heatwave and after a morning in the garden with our new Teepee fully erected and the fire pit ready and stoked, we headed over to Beckenham.  We prepped Littlest Fuller to say, if asked, that she was five and thus avoided paying for her entry, although CMF did put a ban on my idea of putting both girls in the boot so we wouldn’t have to pay for either.  The crowds had come out in force early, enticed by the fact there was absolutely no other sport on anywhere in England apart from the bore that is Wimbledon.

Kent won the toss and elected to bat first, on a track that I know only too well did not play spin.  Unlike Essex on Thursday night, Kent made heavy work of the Powerplay, with Key more interested in the food stands it seemed that attacking the poor Surrey bowlers.  With the score at 53-2 after 7 overs, Geriant Jones was joined by the run machine Martin van Jaarsveld.  These two demolished all comers and put on 96 in double quick time with Jones plundering 47 off 30 balls (including two huge sixes) and MVJ as he is known to his fans scoring another half century, eventually departing after forty balls for 64.  184 in the end was a disappointment and it was only some excellent bowling by Spreigel with 4 for 33 that kept the score under 200.

Surrey had only honour to play for and whilst wickets fell regularly the first six batsmen all made over 20 and all scored at over a run a ball.  But they simply ran out of decent batsmen and fell fifteen runs short in the end as the storm clouds gathered all around us. 

We got home for CMF to cook roast beef, a quick Super Mario competition and the Little Fuller’s first bowling lessons in the garden, using our new Teepee as the wicket…what a spiffing Fathers Day!

 

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June 21, 2009

Midsummer madness or is it simply Fjord Fiesta?

“Maggie Thatcher, your boys took a hell of a beating“ is probably up there with the likes of “And Smith must score”, “They think it’s all over” and everyone’s bedtime favourite “Dicks shoots and Seaman is all over the place”, but the generation of today would be hard pressed to know what that classic line actually referred to. Well let Uncle Stuart explain.

Back in the early 1980’s we actually had a decent national team. Unexciting, but hard to beat. This was an era of Kevin Keegan splashing his Brut on, Trevor (before he got is Sir) Brooking pulling strings in the midfield, Shilton and Clemence being rotated in goal and a rule that said if you were sent off for your club you missed the next international. Under Ron Greenwood we had qualified for the 1980 European Championships in Italy which had been blighted by crowd trouble and seemed odds on to reach the World Cup in 1982 in Spain. Our qualifying ground contained Hungary (seen as our biggest challengers),Romania, Switzerland and Norway. Back in the 1980’s Norway weren’t very good. They were the lowest ranked team in the group and did nothing to dispel that myth when they lost 4-0 to England at Wembley in September 1980. By the time that the teams met again at the Ulleval Stadion in Oslo in September 1981 it appeared to be a done deal that England would go through and Norway would finish bottom. It didn’t happen that way and Norway’s 2-1 win over England proved to be a major shock and legendary commentator Bjorge Lillelien simply could not contain his excitement on the final whistle. Here is his legendary rant in full…

“We are the best in the world! We are the best in the world! We have beaten England 2-1 in football!! It is completely unbelievable! We have beaten England! England, birthplace of giants. Lord Nelson, Lord Beaverbrook, Sir Winston Churchill, Sir Anthony Eden, Clement Attlee, Henry Cooper, Lady Diana–we have beaten them all. We have beaten them all. Maggie Thatcher can you hear me?”

“Maggie Thatcher, I have a message for you in the middle of the election campaign. I have a message for you: We have knocked England out of the football World Cup. Maggie Thatcher, as they say in your language in the boxing bars around Madison Square Garden in New York: Your boys took a hell of a beating! Your boys took a hell of a beating!”

The Norwegians were used to his customary end of game hyperbol but it caused a mild amount of embarrassment in the Norwegian Parliament and they quickly issued an apology.

So history lesson over for one day. But the fact remains that despite some impressive performances on the world stage such as the 2000 European Championships and the 1994 and 1998 World Cups that one night still provides a high point in their footballing history. Domestically times have improved and it is no longer a surprise to see Rosenberg taking their place in the Champions League Group Stages as they have done on a number of occasions, and that is the main problem. Their domination of the game led to every other team simply giving up trying to compete. The best players headed off to the Premier League (such as Jon Obi Mikkel who had been a Lyn player before bizarre Chelsea/Manchester United ownership deal that ended up going Chelsea’s way and Lyn getting £4m, although the London club are rumoured to be suing for the return of this cash) and the next best were snapped up by Rosenberg, leading to a vacuum as so carefully explained at the start of Guns ‘N’ Roses legendary anthem “Civil War”. You would have thought that being based in the capital, city, calling the national stadium home and having one of the biggest fan bases. Well not quite in the case of Lyn Oslo. Yes they had won a few titles but success had eluded them for a few decades and since coming back to the Tippeligaen in 2000 they only had a couple of third place finishes to their name. This season one win from their first thirteen games saw them enter Mid Summers weekend in last place.

Oslo was one of the few capital cities I had not visited on my travels. In fact Norway as a whole had fallen off the Fuller radar so it was long overdue a visit. I planned this one back in March when the flights were stupidly cheap with Ryanair. Yes I know that it is a 2 hour coach ride away but we will deal with that later. The original plan was ambitious for me. Fly to Oslo, watch a game, morning in our Sales office here, pm train to Halmstad via Goteborg for England v Germany in the Under21’s, overnight bus (again as I enjoyed it so much last week!) down to Helsingborgs for Italy v Belarus then back on the bus into Oslo (only 6 hours come on, what’s not to like as Mr Last would say) in time for a midweek game and them back home.

Flights sorted for less than £50 (including tax)…then the logistics went into meltdown. Firstly I had forgotten that my outbound trip co-incided with Father’s Day – again! It is a long standing joke in the Fuller household that Daddy is never around on Father’s Day. I Genuinely love the ashtrays (or whatever is now politically correct) in the run up to the day but to me I enjoy every day with my girls and so I do not need any special treatment once a year. Then came the cost. Flights £50 done, hotels add another £500, travel to Helsingborgs add another £100 and this is before you add in the £7 to £10 for a beer (depending what country you are in). So I slimmed down the trip to just Oslo on an overnighter, giving me the chance to still visit the sales office that may become part of my domain in the near future.

So off I went at 3am for the 6.25am flight with Ryanair. Here are my top 5 events of the morning care of Ireland’s finest.

Me and 13 others somewhere

Me and 13 others somewhere

1. I have never been on a Ryanair flight that is anything less than 80% full. I remember reading that Michael O’Leary once said that if he had a route where passenger numbers dropped below 75% then the route would be binned. Well Mike have a look at this manifest. STN to TOR 21st June 2009 @6.25am…Passengers 14 including 2 infants….Fourteen of us!

2. Despite having 14 passengers we were still restricted on where we could sit. “Balance” apparently according to the stewardess, although judging by the size of her legs every time she walked down the plane the pilot would have to re-adjust the controls.

3. We still had the constant adverts playing. Obviously with such a small amount of adults on board who could buy “Bullseye Baggies” they switched tack to “J20″ which sounds very similar to the Bowtime adverts for Strongbow.

4. We landed on time”! In fact we landed 25 minutes early. Perhaps because our load was so light or perhaps because they schedule this 95 minute average flight to be 2 hours.

5. I paid £50 including tax for the flights but Torp is actually 115km away! So you have to get the specially laid on buses that cost £30 return…Hardly a bargain when you add it all up.

So I had a few hours in Oslo before the football, and as it was a stunning day I set off on foot to see them all. I was a little disappointed that the quality of the locals wasn’t in the Sweden league but still they weren’t shy in stripping off for the good weather. I tried to starve off hunger as I knew I could be fed for free at the football later, and it was a good job too. Oslo is one of the most expensive cities in the world. On the BigMac index it is second only to Tokyo and you wouldn’t have much change here out of a £10 for your medium meal. I resisted the urge of any of the local delicacies which looked so fresh that some of them were still studying at school (get it? Fish, Schools?).

Oslo Fjord

Oslo Fjord

I had a wander around most of the tourist sites and was struck how everyone seemed to be happy. It is certainly a clean and spacious city and despite there being public transport galore (£3 for a single anywhere or £6.50 for a day pass) nothing was too far away to be walkable. I spent a couple of hours in Vigeland Sculpture Park with its amazing human sculptures – serene during the day but I bet its blooming eerie at night. I also had a wander down to the Bislett Stadium, home to the annual Golden Mile race and where Sebastian Coe shattered the World Record in 1979. The stadium is now home to a number of annual events as well as the home ground of Skeid who are in the First Division. Lyn and Vålerenga IF have both used the stadium occasionally, notably for the home games played in the now defunct Royal League (top clubs in Denmark, Norway and Sweden). The stadium is very smart with over 15,000 seats and an ingenius indoor warm up track that runs the whole circumference of the stadium (around 550 metres). Recently the stadium was voted one of the 20 most important sporting venues in the world by Sports Illustrated magazine.

But I was not here for this stadium, but for a visit to the Ullevaal, the Norwegian National Stadium and home to both Lyn Oslo and Vålerenga IF. There has been a stadium on this site since 1926 when the then Crown Prince officially opened the stadium and watched a Lyn XI beat Sweden’s Orgryte 5-1. Amazingly the highest ever official attendance was not for football or some strange Alpine sport but when the American Preacher Billy Graham came to town in 1955 when 40,000 believers (?) crammed in. The stadium today has gone through numerous face lifts and is very smart with a double tier horseshoe and a smaller stand at the west end. Lower tier seats are in blue with the upper tier in a smart red. The views from the upper tier are very impressive and certainly underline the green-ness of the city.

It is also easy to get to – a simple 5 stop journey on the T-Bane underground line from the city centre and you are outside the stadium. There is a very well stocked football shop, which was still selling the West Ham kit with XL on the front that the club had not only stopped from being sold anywhere else bar the official West ham outlets but also according to them all been destroyed.

On non-matchdays this is where you can access the museum and guided stadium tour (80NOK). With an hour until kick off it was no surprise that fans were thin on the ground. Father’s Day coupled with a beautifully sunny day was obviously keeping the football lovers elsewhere. So after tucking into my complementary meatballs (very nice) and flat bread I took my seat in the press box, overlooking not only the lush pitch but also with a great view of the surrounding area.

The opponents Odd Grenland were neither Odd nor from Grenland. In fact they came from 100 miles south west of the city and so traveled in some numbers, stripping off to enjoy the sunshine in the sand. They were in fine voice, and quite rightly so as they came into this game in 2nd place in the league, having won promotion last season. They are Norway’s oldest professional team, dating back to 1894. So second v bottom was surely going to go to form, right?

FC Lyn Oslo 1 Odd Grenland 1 – Ullevål Stadion – Sunday 21st June 2009

The loyal Lyn fans

The loyal Lyn fans

In the competition to find the most bizarre pre-team emerging ritual Lyn will take some beating. A strange devil like character ran out onto the pitch and high fived every ball boy in the centre circle and performed a couple of cartwheels whilst the stadium speakers boomed out the theme tune from 1492 – the whole 5 minutes of it. The teams finally came out with no more than 5,000 in the stadium. The hardcore Lyn fans were located in the lower north stand and banged their drums, waved their flags and generally got behind their team. The traveling Odd fans were in the east stand with the sun shining in their faces and facing the Carrot end – empty seats that had huge banners of crowd faces on as if to confuse the opposition.

Once the teams emerged they were introduced one by one and took their cheer from the crowd meaning the game didn’t actually get going until 6.05pm. But surprise, surprise it was bottom of the table Lyn who started the brighter and should have been ahead as early as the sixth minute when Davy Claude Angan lost his marker only to head over from ten yards out. Scoring goals had been an issue for Lyn this season with only two clubs scoring fewer but top scorer Uruguayan Diego Guastavino made no mistake when he was presented with a one on one in the fourteenth minute to open the scoring. Lyn should have at least doubled this lead in the first half with both Angan and Guastavino missing absolute sitters, but credit where credit is due as they were by far the better team.

Grenland made a couple of tactical changes in the second half and the game was a fairly open affair, with a much higher quality of play than I expected. Both goalkeepers were kept busy and made some excellent saves in the second period. The Lyn fans kept the musical tempo up including a nice little ditty using the tune of God Saved the Queen, although how anyone could hear over the constant irrelevant announcements over the address system which appeared to be scores from elsewhere – as if the crowd actually cared! Grenland thought they had their equaliser in the 80th minute when Peter Kovacs towering header hit the underside of the bar but rebounded on the right side of the line despite their protests.

The fourth official came out and displayed two minutes added on. Two minutes separating Lyn and their first home win of the season. Two minutes to keep their concentration. And with just ten seconds of added time gone they gave away a corner and the ball, when hit back in, literally landed on a players foot (there were so many in there it was impossible to see who) and it dribbled into the corner of the next for an undeserved equaliser. The Lyn players had no time to react and on the final whistle fell to their knees as if they had been relegated. It was tough luck on them but that is football. They could and should have been further ahead by half time.

So I finished off the meatballs, listened to the press conference in Norwegian and then headed back into the city centre.  It was 10pm but still the locals were out in force,with the sun still shining brightly.  The Radhusplats (Town square to me and you) was being busily prepared for the Mid summer’s Eve festivities. Apparently as Mid Summer’s Eve was on a weekend this year they postponed the celebrations until midweek so that they could have a day off work – so much for my planned night of revelry in the Fjords! I had also timed my trip to miss four of the biggest music acts in the world.  AC/DC and Metallica had played Oslo the previous week, The Killers were due to rock the Spectrum on the day of my departure and A-ha! had played in front of a dozen or so here in the Radhusplatz just forty eight hours earlier.  Oh how at least two of the Norton girls would have loved to have been sitting on the bench where I was, thinking that Morten could have parked his bumcheeks in this very spot!

Despite the fact that the sun showed no sign of ever setting I took the presence of an evil looking cloud over the city as an omen to head back to the hotel.  In classic Scooby Doo tails this cloud would have been created by an evil genius who was trying to get the King’s gold by scaring him away from the Palace.  It didn’t work but it was enough to send me back to my bed and a decent nights sleep – well a few hours until the sun came back at 4am….Not quite the Fjord Fiesta  I had planned!

About the Ullevål Stadion
The Ullevaal Stadium is home not only to Lyn Oslo and Vålerenga IF but is also the national stadium. It was inaugurated in 1926 by HRH Crown Prince Olav, arguably Lyn’s most famous supporter, the future King Olav V was a lifelong honorary member of the club. Norwegian Football Association acquired a majority in the stadium in 1960 and Lyn’s ownership has since dwindled to the 13.07% share the club owns today.

Originally the stadium had a running track and could hold more than 35,000 spectators. The running track was eventually removed and there have been several redevelopments over the years, the last of which was completed in 1999 when the main stand was rebuilt. The current all-seater capacity of 25,572 spectators is far greater than Lyn’s average attendance (which has been steadily rising over the past few seasons, ending at 6459 for the 2005 season, 7059 for the 2006, and is predicted to keep rising), but the club has recently chosen to remain at Ullevaal until at least 2010.

The Football Museum is located in the Hafslund Stand. Opened in 2002, the centenary year of the NFF, it documents over 100 years of Norwegian football history. Guided tours of the stadium, including the royal box and the dressing rooms, are available.

It has not been graded as a European host stadium by UEFA as of yet, primarily down to size although facilities are certainly on a par with other 4 and 5 star ones in Europe.

The future of club football at Ullevaal is at any rate uncertain, as both Lyn and Vålerenga have voiced their intent to move to new stadiums when their leases run out in 2010. Vålerenga are planning a new stadium at Valle Hovin, where the club currently have their administration and training facilities. The new stadium would be located closer to the club’s historical roots at Vålerenga and also the majority of their fan base in eastern Oslo. Lyn, meanwhile want to build a new, smaller stadium in the western part of the capital and have focused primarily on securing permission to redevelop Frogner stadion.

How to get to the Ullevål Stadion
The stadium is located next to the Ullevål stadion station of the Oslo T-bane, and is served by lines 3, 4 and 5 (the Sognsvann Line and the Ring Line). The stadium is also within a ten-minute walk from Rikshospitalet station of the Oslo Tramway, located on the Ullevål Hageby Line and served by trams 17 and 18. In addition, the highway Ring 3 runs nearby.

How to get a ticket for the Ullevål Stadion
Tickets for club matches can be purchased online from the club’s websites (http://www.lyn.no and http://www.vif-fotball.no). Tickets start from 160NOK (around £16) and rise to 200 (NOK). Average crowds of less than 10,000 mean there are plenty of tickets for sale on the day of the game from the Fotball Shop which is on the corner of the stadium as you exit the T-Bane. Tickets for other events are sold via the stadium website at http://www.ullevval-stadion.no and include national team games, concerts and the odd preacher man visit.

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June 17, 2009

Come on you lions! Following the three cubs in the land of the Swedes

Two years ago I traveled to the end of the earth, or so it seemed to follow the UEFA Under21’s tournament in Holland. England didn’t exactly deliver on the exciting football promise and staggered through the groups to make it to the semi-finals before they were defeated in a marathon penalty shoot out to the eventual winners Holland.

England had impressed much more in the build up to this tournament, qualifying with ease, although they had to overcome a playoff with Wales. The tournament itself promised much more as well as the host, Sweden, had gone to the trouble of building two new stadiums in Goteborg and Malmo. The latter would be hosting the final, and I had already done my homework with a visit a few weeks previously (see Ny Grund post). My plan would of course as you would expect, take in as many games as I could in the shortest possible time. In theory you could see most of four games in the opening two days, but I didn’t want to be greedy so I planned just three!

I was flying into little ol’ Goteborg City airport, essentially a field with a small landing strip that a Ryanair flight found one day and converted into an airport. It was convenient though and I would be in the city centre and off to the New Gamla Ullevi stadium to pick up my accreditation. The first game of the tournament was surprisingly not being played in one of the newer grounds, or featuring the host nation but instead was England v Finland in the small coastal town of Halmstad, an hour south of Goteborg. It would be a new venue for me, having never ventured south of Sweden’s 2nd city before and I was due to meet up with Dan for a beer before the game. Right on full time I was heading back up to Goteborg to catch the 2nd half of Spain v Germany at the Ullevi before getting a 3am coach down to Copenhagen for a full day’s graft. Why 3am? Well I could get the train at 7am which would get me into the office at 10am but the £70 single fare wasn’t exactly winning any hearts in the wallet department so I figured a £12 bus would allow me 4 hours to sleep and I could but the difference I saved to a beer – only one mind you as that is how expensive beer is out here. After a full day’s graft (which is normally until 3pm in the summer for the Danes) I would be heading back over the Oresund into Sweden for the host nations opening game in Malmo versus the surprise qualifiers, Belarus before flying back from Denmark at 10pm….Easy eh!

Of course I had to negotiate the hell that is Stansted Airport at 6am on a Monday morning. It is never a good time to fly from this outpost but on a Monday you have people flying home after a weekend of wearing fake policeman’s helmets, having their pictures taken at Madame Tussards and thinking that the height of the English culinary experience is the Aberdeen Angus Steakhouse in Leicester Square. Add to that a few “exchange” trips going here and there – that one phrase sends shivers up my spine – the thought of a complete stranger who cannot speak any English, who simply wants to hump your cat/wife/car and then steals your CD’s fills me with dread, and you get the picture that it is England’s closest example of hell on earth. Still at least I had a nice relaxing Ryanair flight to look forward to.

I have to say I was impressed. Normally Ryanair’s flights are staffed by the most miserable flight crews you will find, primarily because they are Polish/Latvian/Ukranian and actually do not understand any English. Today’s quartet surpassed anything I had seen before. Not even a smile on entering the plane. Not even a please or thank you when doing the safety briefing – (”You will not smoke”, “You will not use the toilet”, “If you have been using battery operated equipment switch it off now!” were some examples). Instead of asking if anyone wanted a magazine they simply threw them at you. Not that anyone was arguing – the three girls (Clarrisa, Alexandria and Rula if you want to know) were built for comfort and not for joy – perhaps they had been warned the flight was going to be full of English football hooligans and staffed the crew with the front row of Ryanair’s womens rugby XV. I am sure a few years ago they published a calendar featuring some of their more picturesque crew – where are they kept because I have never seen them!

However, we did land on ten minutes early although someone forgot to tell the captain that when the plane hits (note hits not touches down) the runway you are supposed to put the brakes on. Queue the ridiculous jingle about “another” on time landing, which actually isn’t true. I have taken this route four times and on each occasion the flight time has been the same (I am sad I make a note) – 1 hour 25 minutes, yet the scheduled time is 1 hour 55 minutes. Easyjet are no better, scheduling the Stansted Copenhagen route as 2 hours when even in a near hurricane headwind and de-icing in Denmark it is a 1 hour 50 minute trip max. The great bit of confusion the Swedes had added to the mix was that the only bus to the city centre did not take cash anymore. So you had to go into the she, sorry terminal building and buy a 60SEK (£5) ticket there. For some reasons a couple of posh middle aged English people who had fussed throughout the whole flight thought this was “rather unfair” as they had been queueing for twenty minutes, and demanded the driver reserved them a seat whilst hubby went off to get the tickets. Now my Swedish hasn’t yet extended to swear words but I am sure I learnt one with his reply!

So after a little wander around various football sites of Goteborg and a sneak look in the New Ullevi during daylight I nabbed my pass and headed an hour south to Halmstad. Now I wouldn’t say it was a sleepy little Swedish town, but I am a liar – it is and as Dan said, anywhere and everywhere is 8 minutes away. It is certainly picturesque and the walk up the canal to the stadium was very pleasant indeed, especially as the locals had deemed it a “wear as little as we wanted” day. The stadiums media facilities was essentially an extended shed with a bar at the home. No problems there as it had power, wireless network, food and of course local maidens on hand to help a lost visitor.

Niclas Alexandersson apparently

Niclas Alexandersson apparently

I met up with Dan in the fanspark in the town square – essentially a big bit of artificial grass with a goal in it so all the locals could take pot shots at the mad Englishmen brave enough to go in goal. I did bump into Niclas Alexandersson – the most famous local from these parts who actually played 8 games for the Hammers in the dark days of 2004 when every home game saw another loanee at the club.

Many people were surprised when Halmstad’s 15,500 capacity stadium was chosen as one of the four venues as there are much better venues not only on the west coast but also close to Goteborg such as Elfsborg’s Boras Arena. The original plan was to include the Boras Arena but because they had a “Max” burger restaurant as part of the ground (and one of the sponsors of the club) which they refused to close for the tournament, McDonalds (one of the main UEFA partners) “allegedly threw their apple pies out of the pram and the games were moved a few miles down the road to Halmstad. But the intimate venue has some real history. Int he 1958 World Cup the ground hosted games between Northern Ireland, Argentina and Czechoslovakia.

The Fins had certainly traveled in numbers and for once the English were outnumbered by a fair distance and really made themselves at home in the very quaint and picturesque little stadium. A beautiful setting on a long summer night but I bet it is horrible on a dark autumn one! And they had brought a few of the better looking fans with them as well, which had certainly endeared them to the English.

After some pitch side meet and greets with Stuart Pearce and Sir Trev it was time to sit back and watch the young Three Lions set a marker for the rest to follow.

England 2 Finland 1 – Örjans Vall, Halmstad – Monday 15th June

How did they get them in there?

How did they get them in there?

Pearce had put a very strong England team out, featuring five players in Hart, Mancienne, Agbonlahor, Walcott and Richards who had games under their belt for the senior team plus the likes of James Milner and Mark Noble (and even, dare I say it, another Arsenal player who is actually English in Kieran Gibbs) against the team who were the weakest in the group.

Having seen the poor crowds at the majority of the tournament two years ago I was very surprised (and pleased) to see so many in the stadium – although the vast majority were either Finns or locals supporting the Finns giving us Englanders a complex. It probably helped that a sensible ticket pricing scheme was in place with the cheapest category of seats being just 60SEK or £7, although or dear (quite appropriately) FA sold the “official” allocation at £25.

Finland certainly had the better of the opening exchanges, taking every opportunity to throw the ball into the penalty area to choruses of “boring, boring” from their supporters (Apparently it was “Suomi, Suomi” but it sounded like boring, boring).  But on 14 minutes the English took the lead as Lee Cattermole slotted home from close range after a good run into the box by Gabby, Gabby, Gabby Agbonlahor.

The football rattle? What happened to them? Well in a world of happy clappers and blow up “rumble” sticks that we have seen recently at Wembley and Lords alike it was good to see that some of the Finns had got minature white and blue flags made out of plastic that doubled up as rattles – a great touch and one I am sure that Mr Last would approve of (see his post on cricket lowlights here for more details).

Back to the game, which is a shame as it was spoiling a lovely sunny evening. Thirty minutes gone and a long punt upfield caused Mancienne to dither and Berat Dadik nipped in and as he pulled back the trigger, Mancienne tripped him – Penalty and Red Card – no question…Up stepped captain Tim Sparv and it was 1-1. The Finns went wild, none more so than the goalscorer who disappeared into the fans behind the goal and it took four stewards to get him back!

The roll call of players sitting around us was quite impressive. Newcastle’s (or is he?) Stephen Taylor, ex-Liverpool defender(s) Marcus Babbel and more recently Sami Hyppia were all happy to be snapped away with the fans, less so Germany’s ex-World Cup referee Markus Merk who hid behind his programme when approached.

Pearce withdrew Walcott at half time, obviously having received a call from either Arsene Wenger or Mrs Walcott that his tea was ready, and Fraizer Campbell took his place. Seven minutes into the second half and England restored their lead thanks to a powerful header from Micah Richards from a set piece which woke up the English fans who were enjoying the sunshine a little too much – indeed it even roused the England fans behind the goal into a chorus of “You’re not singing anymore” – the first time we had been heard all evening.

With five minutes to go I packed up and yomped across this pretty little town and just made the 8.05pm train to Goteborg where I hoped that a kindly blonde beauty would take pity on me and break the traditional UEFA role of one day one match – i.e you cannot see two games in one day, even though it is possible.  The train pulled in on time and five minutes later I was disappointed. Yes, there was no blonde beauty but a lovely UEFA lady waved her magic marker pen and I was in, ten minutes before half time.

Spain 0 Germany 0 – The New Gamla Ullevi, Goteborg – Monday 15th June

Spain 0 Germany 0

Spain 0 Germany 0

It is now not uncommon to see two teams sharing a stadium in Europe,especially one built thanks to central funding, but Goteborg’s Ullevia must be the only one in one of the major European leagues that has three tenants. IFK, GAIS and Örgryte IS all share the stadium for their Allsvenskan games – in fact there was original talks of BK Häcken moving in as well but that would have just been plain silly. The construction was not without controversy as supporters from all corners voiced displeasure at a number of aspects of the design. It opened to an almost full house on the 5th April 2009 when GAIS and Örgryte played in front of over 17,000 fans.

But that was then, and this is now. The first half wasn’t the most open of games with few chances for either side (thanks BBC.co.uk for that one line summary of the game so far) but my interest was split with events in SE1 where England were playing West Indies in a winner takes all Twenty20 game. The torrential rain had reduced the game to a slog fest that made for interesting t’internet viewing with a place in the Semi-Final at stake.

But back to the football. What a strange stadium it was. Probably around 7/8th full but completely devoid of any atmosphere, just a general chatter amongst the fans. You can see why the normally passionate Swedish football fans were disappointed with the finished article. The lower tier had strange patio doors around half of it that gave it the look of a 21st century Kenilworth Road. Small and compact yes but really unimaginative.

First chance of the half fell to Germany’s tattooed centre forward Ashkan Dejagah who had been part of the title winning VfL Wolfsburg team this season. A great pull back from Castro found the forward on the penalty spot and after he turned his man he fired the ball into the upper tier (which is not hard with only eight rows in the lower tier).

Spain’s captain, Raul Garcia had come into the tournament with a big reputation, after a good season in the Atletico Madrid team and scoring the goal that got the Spaniards to the tournament last year but he was really annoying the ref with his whining and a few stern words were required on a number of occasions, although on each time he did look like he was going to cry! He also managed a great run of 50 yards, although it was to protest in the referees face after a foul by Germany’s Beck had left one of their players prostrate (favourite players – “Didier Drogba and Michael Ballack” I bet it reads in the programme, but I can’t read German so you will just have to take my word that it is so!).  Unsurprisingly he got his deserved yellow card in the 90th minute.

It certainly wasn’t a shabby game with both teams playing in a way their seniors would be proud of. Spain’s technical pass and move was a joy to watch but every attack was snuffed out by the quick and powerful German centre backs Howedes and Aogo. Ozil someone managed to miss a great effort on the hour mark, taking the ball around the keeper but delaying long enough for him to get back and turn the ball over.

With the temperature falling despite the late evening sunshine and news filtering through that England had lost to the Windies in the last over at the Oval I needed some cheering up. CMF was on “putting children to bed duty” so I couldn’t drive down that avenue so I started eye wandering (you know when you look around somewhere looking for something interesting?). The first thing that struck me was the managers. Germany’s Horst Hrubesch had won the European Championships in 1980 with two goals in the final. As a ten year old I remember “Rubbish” as Motty called him with his mullet hairstyle and bad dress sense. Well here he was tonight. Older, fatter but still with a crap haircut and a cheap looking suit. If you met him in a room of a thousand strangers, without even speaking to him you would know he was German. Balance this with Juan Ramon Lopez Caro, Spain’s coach. Tanned, smartly dressed and standing impassively in his technical area, hiding a tough interior from his time as Real Madrid’s reserve coach (and 1st team one as a caretaker in 2004/05 season). Two contrasting styles but very much conforming to a stereotype. Come to think of it, Stuart Pearce had a tracksuit on and the Finnish coach was blonde so we have a quartet of predictability tonight.

Mesut Ozil really should have wrapped it up for the Germans in the 80th minute when he beat the offside trap but shot weakly at the Spanish goalkeeper. Both teams had chances to win it in injury time but couldn’t find a way through. Horst thought that the Germans were the better team, and that they feared no one and he forgot to buy any meatballs from Ikea for his wife *well I am sure that is what I translated it from German).  So England really became the only winners, knowing that a victory over either of these teams would take them through to the semi-finals. I was off to be bed for a ludicrous 2 hours power nap before I got the overnight coach down to Copenhagen and a day for mirth and mayhem in the office there before heading off to the Swedes opening game in Malmo.

Sweden 5 Belarus 1 – The Swedbank Stadion, Malmo – Tuesday 16th June

The opening ceremony...in game 3!

The opening ceremony...in game 3!

Well I survived the 2am start and the 4 1/2 hours coach trip which arrived into Copenhagen city centre a scandalous 1 minute late after the 250 mile journey. I was scrubbed up and at my desk by 8am (although the rest of the office still hadn’t made it out of bed yet), although our regular EDF induced power cut in London meant I couldn’t actually access any of my systems – a short nap was a consideration but with two cups of Black Citron Tea inside me I was ready for the day. And apart from a low period after lunch where sleep seemed an inevitable next step I survived, hopped on a train and was in Malmo less than an hour later.

It was good to see that the builders had been on overtime since I was here last month (see post here) and that the outside of the stadium had been finished. I was looking forward to being in the stadium for this one to see how many locals would turn out bedecked in yellow and blue. Rumours in the office were that it was a sell out, and thus the biggest ever Under21 game played in Sweden ever. The team were coached by Tommy Soderberg who had been co-coach to the national team that had qualified for Euro2000, Euro 2004 and the 2002 World Cup. Belarus on the other hand were an unknown force. They finished 2nd in Serbia’s group and had the most fantastically named Igor Shitov starting the game at full back.

Ten minutes before kick off and a group of children ran onto the pitch with the flags of the various countries playing in the tournament. Ah the opening ceremony. Now some traditionalists will have you believe that the opening ceremony should precede the opening game. Not so in ultra modern, hip, cool and trendy Sweden who planned the event to maximise the capacity local crowd. Except the locals forgot to turn up, and when the crescendo of music reached its climax nothing happened. Judging by the frantic talking into walkie-talkie’s I imagine the players should have emerged at this point. However, tonight the DJ saved their lives by playing the Euro-pop song again, even louder to remind the players that they were supposed to come out 2 minutes before.

The children could have stayed on the pitch with their flags and not got in the way based on the opening twenty minutes. Again at this level the teams were disappointing. UEFA had marketed this (quite cleverly in my opinion) as a tournament to watch the “stars of today before they become the superstars of tomorrow”, but they seemed happy to be forgotten in a season players. The ball was hit long on most occasions, and only some over zealous Swedish tackling livened up the opening quarter.

The first real chance came in the 29th minute when a smart Swedish move on the edge of the box saw the goal open up for Emir Bajrami who slid his shot just wide of the post. However against the run of play it was the Belarussians who took the lead with a fantastic strike from Sergei Kislyak from around 30 yards, powering the ball into the roof of the net after being teed up by Afanasiev. The lead lasted 6 minutes before Rasmus Elm’s hopeful shot took a deflection off Martynovich’s head and left the Belarussian goalkeeper clutching at air.

Two minutes later they scored again as Marcus Berg kept his feet in the penalty area, got a lucky rebound and pushed the ball into the net to send the slowly filling up stadium into a collective yellow and blue party zone. Berg certainly looked lively and had carried his form for FC Groningen into this game where he had scored 30 goals in just fifty appearances which had earnt him a number of call ups to the senior squad. Five minutes later and he had a second, slotting home with ease after some excellent hold up play on the edge of the area to put the game out of the Belarussians reach.  Half time and the Swedes were well in control.

The second half started in the same vein with Sweden pressing the Belarussians back but they managed to hold out until the 81st minute when a ball over the top saw Berg squeeze a leg between the onrushing goalkeeper and the defender to lift the ball over their heads and to complete his hatrick with the simplest of finishes.  If truth be told he should have had a 4th a few minutes later when his header was well saved from close range.  But Sweden were not finished and with the game entering the 90th minute Svensson scored a cracking goal with a drive into the top corner from 25 yards.  Sweden had been mightily impressive although it was hard to see how good the Belarussians really were on this form.

So my final job of the trip was to make it back to Copenhagen airport in time for my Easyjet flight.  Phase one was getting a cab to the station – check.  Phase two was getting the train – early one running late so a big check there.  With an hour to go I was walking towards an empty security zone which is almost unheard of here.  I passed over my printed at the office boarding card but it wouldn’t scan.  “Try the machines downstairs” the security guard told me.  Only the machines cannot accept Easyjet bookings, so I had to queue up at their sales desk.  Fifteen minutes later when I am eventually served I am told I need to go to the check in desks and have a new boarding card printed.  So off  I go again(Copenhagen airport is not “compact” by the way).  Nice smiley lady at check in sympathises and writes me a new card and I am off, through security, grabbed some food and make it to the gate just as the inbound flight lands 30 minutes early.

So I could make it home for play time – or so I thought.  We boarded early and I took my seat at the rear of the plane.  I have got to know a few of the Easyjet staff over the past year of doing this route regularly and had a chat about the storm from the previous evening.  For some reason there was an issue with headcount.  We appeared to have too many passengers on board and had lost a baby!  So a manual count was done, which was inconclusive.  The main stewardess asked the ground crew for a passenger manifest and they said that a computer malfunction had wiped the list – very handy….So calls were made to the world and their dog and eventually they got a list.  The baby issue turned out to be an infant who had turned 2 years old since getting the outbound flight and was thus officially classed now as an Adult but not in the eyes of the manifest.  But there were still two too many passengers on the flight.  We were now 40 minutes late leaving and people were understandably getting frustrated.  Eventually they found out why…

“Would a Mr Stuart Fuller please make himself known to the cabin crew”.  Well I was sitting there talking to them – couldn’t really make myself anymore familiar without being in breach of a number of airline regulations.  It appears that I had been checked in not just once, but three times!  Once at the office and twice by the check in staff at Copenhagen airport, so I was on the manifest three times.  A simple search would have thrown up this error straight away.  The captain came down to verify that I was just one person, leading to many passengers speculating that I was a “wrong ‘un” but it was soon put right by a cabin announcement by the captain who told a few home truths about the ground crew.

So there we are.  I crawled into bed at 12.30am and immediately started dreaming of Helsinki in August….could it be, could it be!

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