Match 23/07/640 - Wednesday, 17th October 2007 -
Euro Qualifying Group E
Russia (0) 2 Pavlyuchenko 69 (pen) 73
England (1) 1 Rooney 29
Att. 84,700
Entrance: £60
Programme: 200 Roubles (£4.50)
Mileage: 136/1,703 (Heathrow only)
New Ground: 220 (31st abroad)
Match Report
England’s Euro 2008 qualification was left hanging by a thread as they left the Luzhniki Stadium on Wednesday night suffering a 2-1 defeat. Much would have been written by the Wapping hacks and said by TV pundits in the last couple of days, but for my tuppence-worth, it was not a game England deserved to lose.
For 70 minutes England had contained the Russians with none of the scares that had been experienced last month at Wembley. They had led at half time through a wondrous Rooney strike and the scene was set for qualification. The pulsating atmosphere that had been generated was beginning to subside and there was even a small amount of booing as the half time whistle sounded.
But the game twisted as a result of a glaring Steven Gerrard miss, a dubious penalty and a Paul Robinson error. Had England gone 2-0 ahead with Gerrard’s chance I’ve no doubt that the game would have been over, but the successfully taken penalty raised the noise levels still further and Russia came at England like hounds having got not only the scent, but also the sight of the fox. The pandemonium that ensued in the English penalty area was matched by the fervour reverberating the Luzhniki and the Russians quickly capitalised to take the lead following Robinson’s inability to parry a shot to safety.
England made substitutions, threw away caution, but we all correctly suspected that the game was up. At the final whistle all that was left for England fans was to negotiate the exit as easily as they had made their entry. As always news had filtered through about arrests and our fans being targeted by groups of Russian youths searching for trouble.
Personally we had walked around Red Square/Kremlin with no hint of trouble. On passing this comment to one of our Burberry-clad clan I was informed: “Ah, but you two look like tourists”, not quite knowing how to take this remark I could only counter by saying that that was the look we were trying to achieve.
Mrs T with her security, looking like a tourist
Our consolation prize was that the expected 45 minute delay in leaving the stadium was terminated after 15 minutes as the Russian crowd almost as one stayed behind in jubilant celebration. This made for a comfortable exit and the coaches left with no more than a few finger gestures from the self-proclaimed top hooligans of European football.
With our departure from the surrounds of the Luzhniki safely negotiated it was amusing to look back to a BBC World piece that morning that reported on the hooligan problems of Russian football. They showed rivals gangs confronting and then engaging in a pitch battle, followed by a interview with a concealed face called the Killer proclaiming that they took their inspiration from England of the eighties but now they were the force. There was also a interview with a guy that sold English hooligan memorabilia, all done naturally to the backdrop of a Millwall flag.
We had particularly chosen not to stay at the Hotel Cosmos, temporary home to the vast majority of the 4,500 English that had made the trip. I considered that such numbers could invite the trouble that suited both sets of neanderthals. Instead we were based at the Izmailova Gamma Delta, one of three huge monolithic blocks that at first brought back bad memories of the Hotel Azerbaijan in Baku, but these fears were unfounded with clean and tidy rooms, reasonably priced food and drink, unlike the £6 a pint that was being ripped off at the Cosmos.
There was a smattering of England supporters in the hotel that had a large contingent of Russian war veterans staying on some sort of reunion. One of these vets late on Thursday night gave us our most amusing segment of the trip. Following dinner, Mrs T had decided it the last chance to sample some pure Russian vodka. So we took a table alongside five of the veterans each with the best part of eighty years on the clock and already sampling (and sampled) the best that Russia offers.
At the bar one of these old boys with a top set entirely made up of gold teeth and decorated with his campaign medals engaged in the language of hand signals with the wife with much jollity. From my seat I could see the old bugger’s hand creeping towards the wife’s backside, but the glint in his eye was reserved for the busty lady behind the bar who was probably approaching sixty herself.
As the wife retreated to the table we sat and watched as the old warhorse set about his present day mission to cop a feel of the tits of the beauty that was in the eye of the beholder. She played out the scene beautifully. She talked, held his hands at safe distance and looked into his eyes. Time and again he went back for more, finally his hand brushed the object of his desire. There was no slap from the lady, the octogenarian with the glint in his eye was satisfied that even in his advancing years the fair sex could be won over. She resumed her place behind the bar with smile that told she had made an old man very happy.
It was playful and in its way innocent, unlike on an adjoining table where four or five prostitutes openly plied their trade. We watched as they were approached or made their own advances, it was pretty seedy for a supposedly international hotel. There was uniformed security and even a member of the local constabulary passed through, but blind eyes are turned, such is the nature of the bribe in Moscow.
So a trip that had not begun too well when I committed that male-exclusive sin of not reading the instructions properly regarding our pre-booked parking space, then trailing around the perimeters of Heathrow until giving up and paying again through to a painful defeat in the cavernous Luzhniki we enjoyed our Moscow experience. I wasn’t greatly impressed with the inside of the stadium, it is large, as I’ve said generated great noise, but the running track made it a rather long distance view. I did like the outside of the building, preferring the stonework to the glass facade that Wembley has chosen. When you first looked at the pitch the colour gave it away that it was plastic, but England cannot use it as any excuse, I thought it played pretty normally.
Snow had covered Domodedovo as we landed but this succumbed to a mild 10degC during our day time sightseeing. Moscow is a good visit. We restricted ourselves to the area surrounding Red Square and the Kremlin but this offers plenty at a leisurely pace. We overcame the Cyrillic text to navigate the Metro with just one small mishap and the stations with their sculptures are sight in their own right. On the occasions we needed help, once a broken English dialogue was found Moscovites were helpful but going about their business there are plenty of doors shut in faces.
I finish the post with the views of a hotel desk clerk who lamented that a championship without England is unthinkable, but of course, he will readily accept Russia’s participation at our cost. Russia didn’t knock us out on Wednesday, Macedonia did that at Old Trafford back in October 2006. It was always suspected that we would pay for that result and it looks like we have.
Some sights from Moscow: The National MuseumTottenham Court Road it isn't
St Basil's - fantastic on the outside, but disappointing inside
Saturday, 20 October 2007
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1 comment:
Greetings from Moscow and excuses for my English! My name is Ilya Donskikh, i'm a journalist of "Novaya Gazeta" newspaper in Moscow. Your post is really valueable for us as we are working on the article about English national team supporters adventures in Moscow at 17 October. Could you please tell me here or via e-mail (blackjourn@mail.ru) your name (maybe nickname), the name of the city you live in and your contact phone number if possible.
I would also be gratefull if you hepl me with more blog-reports by english fans who were in Moscow, probably you can afford some links.
Thank you and good luck to England! I really can't imagine European championship without your national team.
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