Day 15 Match day in Lyon

Match Day in Lyon

"Going to the Euros" is an experience with many levels. Just being in a similar time zone is the minimum level for someone living in Australia. It's not fun staying up into the small hours, or setting your alarm to wake up at 3 am to watch big match. Visiting the country in which it is all happening is the ideal. It's like being at a massive party, hosted at a national level for thousands of people from all over Europe. Finding a bar to watch the matches is not as trivial as it sounds, or should be, and even those mini adventures add to the experience. The ultimate, though, has to be to actually attend a match.

Today was my second match in this competition, and my first in Lyon. Northern Ireland v Ukraine was the fixture, kicking off at 6pm. The timing provided a bit of a logistic puzzle for Simon, Gerry and I to solve, though. At 3pm, was the biggest match so far as we were concerned - England v Wales, and we had to make sure we found a place to watch that - all of it - somewhere close enough to the Olympique Lyonaise stadium, so that we could get there in time afterwards.

One option was watching the match here in the city center and then getting a tram to the ground. But it was risky. It's might take ten minutes to get from the to the tram station and, close to kick off, thousands of fans would be doing the same. You might not get on a few trams, and end up missing the start of the game. Gerry's plan was to get the tram out to a station close to the stadium and find a bar there that was walking distance to the ground.

Sounded good to us, but the ticket guy at the tram station assured us that there was "nothing" at the station we were suggesting, "no bars", "no restaurants", nothing. It sounded a bit far fetched, but as I'd had big problems finding a bar that showed the Northern Ireland v Poland game, I wondered if it was the right thing to do. A Northern Ireland fan from Shrewsbury had looked into it too and said that TripAdvisor has 20+ bars/cafes listed - a big disparity from zero.

UK fans

Anyway, we had time so that's what we did. The suburb of Decine is a little industrial, but it was fairly large. We strolled around among the Ukrainian and Northern Ireland fans gathering for the match later, asking locals if they could direct us to a brasserie that might have the football on.

OOO Cry Ee Na

It does feel a bit embarrassing. The behavior of the yobs means that all football fans are tarred to some extent by the same brush. So when asking for directions to a bar to watch football you find yourself using delusional language like "connaissez-vous, ou se trouve un restaurant?" - as if I just wanted to find somewhere to eat. The fact that I am wearing a shiny lycra Nottingham Forest shirt and am standing with two guys with a Union Jack on their T shirts is somehow wished away. 

Everyone, seems to empathise with our dilemma, however. I think most people here realise most of us, the massive majority, are respectful and nice people.

Anyway, one such local really impressed me with his knowledge of my team, Forest, before directing us in the direction he said we'd find a bar that ticked all the boxes. Sure enough, a few minutes later, we arrived, claimed a table right in front of the tely, and had ordered a meal and a bottle of wine.

We were all set for the biggest match of the tournament so far (for us).

England 2 Wales 1

This was always going to be the group match of biggest interest for the fans of England and Wales. Wales' winning start and England's tragic conceding of a last minute equaliser to Russia had put the pressure very much on England. It was twisted a notch or two by superstar Gareth Bale in the lead up to the game as he suggested the Welsh team had more passion than the English.

Monsieur McGoo's Avenue Cafe

Hosted in the relatively tiny town of Lens in the north of France, the stadium was packed as the anthems rang through. "Land of my Father" was sang with real passion by players and fans alike. "God Save Our Queen" less, so, it has to be said - so maybe Gareth had a point. But in a tiny cafe in Decines, at least 30 England and Northern Ireland fans united in singing it to a tely in the corner of the room with as much passion as I have ever witnessed.

On the wine

The game started cautiously as predicted, but it was soon clear that Wales' plan was to sit back and let England dominate, hoping no doubt, for a Gareth Bale breakaway. Joe Hart almost fluffed a simple catch of a cross early on, which sent alarm bells ringing but as the first half proceeded England continued to dominate the play. Harry Kane and Raheem Sterling were looking decidedly under par but everything else was looking good. Early in the game Deli Alli appeared to be pushed in the back by a Welsh defender right in front of the referee but nothing was given. And then later on, there appeared to be a clear handball - but again, not given.

If only England could score...

Then, with just a few minutes remaining of the first half, captain Rooney through frustration of missing a clearance a second or two before, lunged out at the Welsh midfielder conceding a free kick. It was a long way out, but such is the fear of Gareth Bale, a wall was formed, and Joe Hart positioned himself in front of the goal.

"He can't score from there, surely" said Gerry.

He shouldn't have, but did. The ball flew over the wall and then dipped. It wasn't particularly ferocious, or particularly well placed. Joe Hart saw it and had time to get down to make the save but, inexplicably, let the ball through his hands into the net. 1-0 Wales. Pretty much immediately after that it was half time.

I was depressed. Yet again, England had dominated the game, had at least two decent penalty claims ignored and then made to pay in the most cruel way for mistake. Fate, it seemed, was going to frustrate England once more.

As the teams came out for the second half, interest was reawakened as Roy Hodgson had made a brave double substitution - Kane and Sterling off, Vardy and Sturridge on. Looked a bit desperate, but credit to Hodgson. Most England fans see him as some kind of defensive bore.

Roy Hodgson - Got the tactics spot on

Within a few minutes, the gamble appeared to have paid off when Vardy poked the ball in after a scramble in the box. At first glance it appeared that England had got away with one themselves as Vardy seemed to well off side, but upon looking at the replays, the ball had clearly gone through to him off a defender in the same way the ball had flicked of Gerrard to go through to Suarez when he went through to score against England in the World Cup in 2014.

Wonderful! England were back in it and my gloom had lifted.

A few minutes later, Hodgson turned the positivity knob even higher as he replaced Lallana with the youngest player ever to represent England in this competition, Marcus Rashford. England were really going for it now.

They pressed and pressed but the score remained 1-1 and the scenario that was growing in my mind was the inevitable Gareth Bale breakaway to get the winner. But again, credit to England, apart from the free kick Bale was largely anonymous. 

Into injury time and the win we had all hoped for (Simon had predicted 3-0 to England) appeared to be disappearing. Then, in a few dramatic seconds, it all changed as Daniel Sturridge burst through a packed box to poke the ball under the goalie for a last gasp winner!

Sturridge... 2-1!

Brilliant! England players celebrated with every bit as much passion as the Welsh did earlier. I don't think you doubt that about this team.

Wow! What a dramatic game. So, the dream is still alive. At half time, England were bottom of the group and now they were top. A draw against Slovakia and they are definitely through, a win, and they top the group according to my original scenario.

It is so good when a football match you care about goes the way you hope for.

Northern Ireland 2 Ukraine 0

We left the bar, ecstatic, and all we had to do now was walk 15 minutes to the very impressive new stadium in Lyon. Unlike Marseille, there was a lot of security checks well before the ground and everything was really well organised. We had a few tickets spare in the end that we couldn't even give away.

Again, it was a fantastic scene. There are few sights that can rival a modern stadium full of colourful fans out to support their team. There must have been at least 50,000 fans. I even sang "God Save the Queen" with passion - something I never usually do.

The game itself was tight but Northern Ireland were really impressive and controlled for most of the game. My personal interest, Forest player Jamie Ward, played well as did the whole squad. This is a team, unlike Wales, with no stars at all. If Wales are, on average, a championship team, Northern Ireland are a 3rd or 4th tier side. 

Jame Ward... is a Red

Most impressive of all, though, were the Northern Ireland fans. I have never seen such continual, unified vocal support. On 24 minutes they applauded loudly for someone who had died. Nelson Mandela would have not got a better send off. 

It was 0-0 at half time but the Ulsterman raised their game in the second. McAuley scored with a storming header to put them 1-0 up. It had been raining heavily for most of the match but midway through the second half it got much worse and massive hail stones started bombarding the pitch and some of the subs got their heads pelted. The ref had to bring the players off for a few minutes.

Cossacks

Ukraine tried to get back into but the men in green held firm and then as the game was closing out, got a second to seal a great victory. 

After the game, I walked back to the bar in Decine where I met Gerry and Simon where we were going to watch the Germany v Poland game. After a few minutes of farce where the bar owner decided to twiddle with the TV settings just as the Polish national anthem had started - with the brilliant result of destroying the reception. As the minutes ticked by, the few fans in the bar grew increasingly impatient. A German fan in front of us slammed his fist on the table in frustration. Monsieur McGoo eventually did get it working but we decided to move down the road to another place, just in case.

Germany 0 Poland 0

I have to admit I wanted Poland to win this one. Three games, all going my way in one day? That would be brilliant. Of course, it wasn't going to happen. The Polish midfielder Milik missed a sitter of a header as Poland appeared to dominate the first two thirds of the game. Germany came into it more towards the end but Poland hung on for an easily deserved draw.

Germany in Pole Position

After our football feast, it was time to go back to the hotel and we caught the tram back to the city station on a carriage packed with deliriously happy (and loud) Northern Ireland fans.

Bag pipe version of the Marseillais was sweet, if a bit screechy on the ears

Now, I have to say, I love chanting football fans inside the ground. It greatly adds to the atmosphere and acts as a unique means of communication for a mass of people to themselves, to their team, the opposition and anyone else watching. It provides a vehicle for much humor and the creation of much passion. Although it is clearly silly, because much of the above doesn't apply, I also thinking chanting whilst watching the match on a screen is ok. I do it all the time. But on trains, where people are trapped together for half an hour or more, I really don't think it is very considerate. Now the Ulster boys who make all the noise were clearly good humored. They were jolly. They were smiling. They were friendly. They even had a bag pipes player. From a football fan point of view, we can see a difference between that kind of thing and the sort of chanting of aggressive fans looking for a fight, but I wonder if a non-football fans sees it that way. What if you actually hate football and are filled with fear and despair at the news items about football fan violence? Wouldn't it be a little scary? 

Anyway, back at the hotel, I went straight to bed to go to sleep. At least that was the plan. Up until at least 3 am, loud drunken fans below in the square, were chanting all night long. Never ending, moronic chanting. And these guys were no Pavarotti. 

My plea to football fans - shut it, unless it's appropriate.

Aljice

Lyon