These things elicit a certain reaction from me, which I cannot control: Chrissy Waddle’s mullet; Platty’s last-gasp volley against Belgium; the ball ballooning off Paul Parker’s back and over Shilton’s head into the net; and, especially, Gary Lineker gesturing to the bench to “have a word”. And if you spent a lifetime striving to compose a piece of music perfectly suited to soundtracking slow-motion footage of men in short shorts glowing with sweat on hot Italian evenings, fouling each other, diving extravagantly to get each other booked, and missing important penalties, you could not do better than the lad Puccini with his smash hit aria Nessun Dorma.
Stardate: Saturday 14th April 2018. Kick-off: 7.45pm.
Venue: Arena Naţionala, Bucharest.
Competition: Liga 4 (Bucharest).
Ticket price: 25 RON (£5) for row 2 in sector 111 of Tribuna II (the east stand).
“Rapid a înviat.”
“Rapid has risen.” So said striker Daniel Pancu, in a timely Easter reference, after Saturday’s game at the Arena Naţionala. Continue reading
It’s the biggest game of the season. The ancient academy takes on the army of youth. Yes, the Eternal Non-League Derby is back! And it’s bigger than ever! Continue reading
The British football monthly When Saturday Comes runs a feature in the back, where they review a season from times gone by and track what has happened since then to selected teams and individuals. I thought it would be fun to do that for the Romanian league. Let’s see if I’m right. Cast your mind back to a time when the iPhone was brand new, Avril Lavigne was a superstar, and the USA had its stupidest ever president… up to that point… Continue reading
“Coming up this week: the giants of Charlton play host to the titans of Ipswich… making them both seem normal size.” …as David Mitchell says so portentously in this marvellous clip.
This Saturday – Rapid v Steaua – is a clash between giants and titans, two of the biggest clubs in the country facing off in (of all places) the fourth division, almost the bottom level of the senior football pyramid. The occasion permits us to pretend. Continue reading
Fotbal Club FCSB v Sporting Clube de Portugal
Champions League play-off round, second leg.
Wednesday 23rd August 2017. 9.45pm.
Arena Nationala, Bucharest.
Ticket price: 40 lei (£8).
Weather: shorts and t-shirt.
As soon as I climb, wheezing slightly, to my seat, within spitting distance of the top of the upper tier, it is clear that this is to be a match whose intricate details will pass me by. For this spectator there will be no arbitration of niggling fouls, no psychological analysis of a coach in a technical area: even identifying identifiable players is likely to be troublesome. Coupled with my difficulties in tactical understanding, this could make for a frustrating evening: what exactly am I going to get out of this? Continue reading