Showing posts with label SSC Napoli. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SSC Napoli. Show all posts

Friday, 26 August 2011

Barcelona v Napoli


And now… Camp Nou

Barcelona 5-0 Napoli (22:08:10)

I’m guessing that, for many of us, FC Barcelona and Camp Nou was the beginning of the dream: the dream of continental football adventures, the first foreign stadium on our ‘to visit’ list should we ever save up enough pocket money to get beyond Croxley Green on the bus, writes Nick Davidson. The reasons for this obsession will vary according to age but could include: Kubala, Cruyff, Neeskens, Schuster, El Tel, Archibald, Lineker, Laudrup, Stoichkov, Guardiola, Romário, Ronaldo, Rivaldo, Ronaldinho, Xavi, Iniesta, Messi. Or maybe you’d been inspired by the role the club played as a symbol for Catalan resistance during the Franco regime, or were mesmerized by Jimmy Burn's incredible club biopic Barça – A People’s Passion. Or like me, perhaps, your interest was pricked by those cheap, counterfeit Barcelona shirts that hung tantalizingly out-of-reach at the back of every tourist shop on the Costa Brava in the early 1980s. Yep, it was spotting those exotic replica shirts on a cheap package holiday to sunny Spain that first alerted me to Barça – although, I never did have enough spending money to buy one.

Anyway, back to the present. It’s not often that both authors of Modern Football is Rubbish get to attend games together, so when Shaun announced that he was in Spain on a family holiday towards the end of August and fancied a trip to Camp Nou, we began to hatch a plan. We scanned the La Liga fixture list, but Barça were away at Malaga on the weekend he was in the country – darn it. But hang on, what was this: Barcelona v Napoli at Camp Nou, in the 46th Joan Gamper Trophy on 22nd August? Could we be in luck? A quick bit research (nods, sagely in the general direction of Jimmy Burns) revealed that Joan Gamper should really have had pride of place at the head of our list of legends at the top of the page (fortunately the predictably lame, “sounds like they’ve named it after the tea lady,” jokes were dispensed with fairly early on,) combining, as he did, the role of founding father, player and, later, president of FC Barcelona. Sure, it wasn’t a league game, and they did have a league fixture the day before so chances were that most of the first team would be rested, but this was an opportunity to watch a game at Camp Nou! (I’d done the tour on a trip to the city 10-years previously, and although it’s impressive, it’s not the same as watching a game there.)

It is fair to say that, like the rest of the world, we’d been mesmerized by last season’s performances as the team marched to another La Liga & Champions League double, with the various demolitions of Real, and that night at Wembley (Eek, I’m going all Tyldesley) being the closest thing I’ve ever seen to football perfection. We’d talked about watching this Barcelona team at the top of the curve, before for whatever reason their powers started to wane. And with Pep Guardiola only signing those one-year contracts we had the feeling that we needed to act soon.

The Gamper had the added advantage of being the only fixture where season ticket holders don’t get first dibs at their tickets, meaning of a reasonable(ish) price of €56 we could bag central seats in the middle-tier, rather than sitting up in the clouds or paying a fortune through a third-party ticket agency. So, whilst Shaun sorted the tickets for us all, I busied myself in booking flights and a hotel for me, Kathryn and our two girls (fortunately, K didn’t need much persuading to re-visit Barcelona, grab a bit of sunshine, check on the progress of the Sagrada Família and immerse the girls a bit of Catalan culture.) Flights, hotel, tickets – sorted. We were all set.

As I said, we were all reasonably content with seeing a makeshift Barcelona side at Camp Nou – but then the strike happened. At first we were overjoyed, with no league fixture, Pep would surely give a run out to many of his established stars ahead of Friday’s European Super Cup fixture against Porto. But then, whispers (oh, alright, Tweets) started to emerge that the Napoli game would be off too. With the strike called between Friday and Monday, the teams weren’t even supposed to train, let alone take part in friendly matches. I spent a good couple of hours slumped on the sofa in a state of depression at the thought of getting so close to a match. But as our departure drew closer, things started looking up – despite a worrying lack of pre-match build-up on the official website – a statement released to the press by club vice president, Josep Maria Bartomeu, confirmed the match was going ahead. The Joan Gamper trophy, is not only the traditional curtain-raiser to the new season, but is also used to present the squad to the fans and this event simply couldn’t be re-scheduled. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Like a rogue Status Quo lyric, the game had been, ‘on and off, and on again’ but our Barcelona bridges were far from burned (sorry, it’s not often you can legitimately shoe-horn The Quo into a match report these days, it’s an act so foolhardy even the legendary Stuart Hall wouldn’t attempt it!)

So, we made it. The game was on and we were ensconced in our hotel which, apparently served as the headquarters of the republican youth movement, Joventut Radical Republicana at the beginning of the 20th century – the inside had been completely rebuilt but the façade did have an air of Catalonia grandeur about it (and you could see the Sagrada Família from the roof.) We managed to successfully rendez-vous with Shaun and the kids at the Plaça de Catalunya and had a leisurely stroll down Las Ramblas (on a state of high-alert against the pickpockets – despite the dire warnings, we didn’t spot any.) Then, Kathryn and my youngest daughter headed back to the hotel for a swim, while the rest of us (including my other daughter Bess – previous European football experience SC Freiburg v FC St Pauli last year) took the wonderfully air-conditioned metro to the stadium.

From the outside, Camp Nou doesn’t blow you away, but as I explained to a slightly under-whelmed Bess – wait to you get inside. Shaun had set aside ‘an hour minimum’ to peruse the club shop, little did we realize that it would take nearly that long to battle through the entrance and get near the replica shirt section – it was heaving. With named and numbered shirts flying out the door for nigh on €74 a pop – it wouldn’t take too long to pay of Cesc’s transfer fee? Due to the ticketing situation, this fixture appealed to the casual fan and tourists like us – perhaps, this was the reason the game was going ahead – the average spend in the club shop per spectator must be way above that of a regular league fixture. Anyway, Shaun’s son emerged with a Messi home shirt (good choice as it turns out!) and Bess was happy with a water bottle for her lunch box and a big postcard of a smiling Lionel Messi (are you spotting a theme?) Showing enormous self-restraint, I managed to avoid spending €44 on a beautiful clay model of Camp Nou (but it is my 40th coming up in November, hint, hint!)


Model stadium in a presentation box only €44, you say?

Club shop done, it was time to head towards the stadium. The gates hadn’t opened, but there were thousands of fans milling about outside. And, it was here that we had to face down a dilemma that every parent will know only too well – your offspring’s sudden and desperate need for the loo. The problem was that there were a grand total of four Portaloos serving, say, 4,000 people. The queue was huge. But we had no choice. So we stood. For about 35-minutes. Then just as we neared the front, we spied a decidedly drunk looking Napoli fan, hovering shiftily to the side of the queue. In a flash, as the door opened, he queue jumped and made a desperate lunge for the door. Now, I’ve been going to football for thirty years, and I’ve never once considered an act of aggression, but having made our – absolutely bursting kids – hold on for over half-an-hour, I was livid that this bloke had jumped in ahead of us, and so was the rest of the queue. One chap in front, mimed pushing the loo over with our ‘friend’ still inside it whilst others settled for a lot of gesticulating and shouting in Catalan. Our response? Rather than provoke an international incident, we opted for a very mean stare at the rest of his mates. Napoli Ultras or not, they looked pretty sheepish under the glare of an 8 and 11-year old girl and their dads. Fortunately, the other cubicles became free, and on our exit, the Napoli fans had disappeared into the crowd.

Toilet drama over, we finally made it inside. Phew, it was impressive! Our seats were fabulous, as Bess pointed out, my yellow one formed the top part of the ‘N’ on Mes Que Un Club. It was a pleasure to sit in the evening sunshine watching the stadium fill up. Pre-match entertainment consisted of the usual dance troupe, navigating their way around some giant inflatable balls, each depicting one of the club’s European Cup wins. This was followed by something akin to a 21-gun salute by men in traditional dress standing in both goalmouths, and the mysterious appearance of a piano in the middle of the pitch – perhaps Cesc was going to belt out some Barry Manilow by way of a homecoming? Now maybe, the excitement had got to me, but I can’t for the life of me remember what the piano was actually used for, and before I knew what was happening, Pep and the squad were being introduced to the crowd, one by one. Xavi, Puyol and Iniesta got pretty loud cheers, but the volume only really got turned up to eleven for Leo. If the roar didn’t get you, then you were certainly left reeling by the explosion of 78,000 flashbulbs.


Stupid hair? Yep. MFIR author 1: Nick at Camp Nou


Piano. Check. Now where's Cesc?


Slightly less stupid hair, MFIR author 2: Shaun at Camp Nou

At last the football got underway, the strike had done us something of a favour with Guardiola opting for a mixture of established stars and squad players in his line-up. Fabregas made his first start alongside the experience of Iniesta, Piqué, Keita and Villa. Of course, we were all a little disappointed there was no Messi, but we knew it would be unlikely, after all the lad needs a rest, he seems to play virtually every minute of every competitive fixture Barça play. Before long Fabregas had marked his full debut with a tap-in and then Keita made it 2-0 at the break. Poor old Napoli had looked well of the pace (Shaun was especially disappointed as Napoli are his FIFA team of choice, due to their adventurous 3-4-3 formation and wealth of attacking options.) We anticipated that Pep would ring the changes at half-time and contented ourselves that we might catch a glimpse of a future star in the making. True to form, aside from Villa swapping for Pedro, the half-time subs were mostly squad players. But then on 57 minutes, the noise level rose again. Who was that little figure striping out of his tracksuit? Another La Masia starlet? It couldn’t be Lionel, surely? It was indeed – a straight swap Messi for Fabregas. The flash-bulbs went ballistic and kids young and old, leapt from their seats in delight. World’s best player, right in front of us? Check.

Within five minutes Messi had made one goal and score one for himself. First, he crashed a free-kick against the bar which was then deftly nodded home by Pedro, then Pedro returned the favour providing a cross for Messi to turn home. There was still time for Messi to grab a second and make it 5-0 with a low shot across goal. Fabulous stuff, seemingly achieved without breaking sweat. Somewhere in the middle of all this, Napoli brought on the famous left-winger (cum centre-forward,) Cristiano Lucarelli, which pretty much completed a perfect evening for me (along with a timely text informing me of my beloved FC St Pauli’s 93rd minute winner against MSV Duisburg, which put us top of 2.Liga.)


Top tier seats from  9 filling up nicely.


Pretty decent sunset

It was another perfect Barcelona performance orchestrated by The Flea, the diminutive little chap who’s name and number is on the back of 100,000 shirts – including, no doubt, those hanging at the back of tourist shops all along the Costas. Bess summed it up astutely when she said, “he’s like a little magician.” I can’t really add to that.

With that, we legged it for the metro, whilst Shaun and family waited for their taxi back to their resort along the coast. We had two days left to explore the rest of Barcelona and we were going to enjoy it – my top-tip – if you find yourself in the city during July or August head up to the Piscina Municipal de Montjuïc, a swimming pool used for the diving during the 1992 Olympics. Today, it’s sadly neglected but offers a peaceful swim and the most amazing views of the city.

I’ve been lucky this year, ticking off the Westfalenstadion, Anfield and now, Camp Nou on my travels. Barcelona might be an obvious starting point for a European adventure, but it’s most definitely a worthwhile one. It’s not often you get to tick off: a team at the peak of it’s powers; a fabulous stadium; a beautiful city and the world’s greatest player – all in one weekend.


The Flea, not actual size.


Final score: Napoli handed Champions League warning.


The pool at Montjuic (also the location of Kylie's Slow video, pop pickers!)

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Nick is the author of the rather brilliant www.modernfootballisrubbish.com

Thursday, 28 April 2011

Italian European Football Weekend


The Italian Job

Atletico Roma 1-2 Gela, Serie C1 (16:04:11)
AS Roma 2-3 US Città di Palermo, Serie A (16:04:11)
SSC Napoli 1-2 Udinese Calcio, Serie A (17:04:11)

Belgian Stephane Lievens living the dream in Italy....

When we booked our Easter family holiday last year, we settled for a trip to Japan. However, due to those circumstances, we were forced to cancel that one at short notice and rebook another trip. The choice went to Italy, not quite the same as Japan, but on the plus side was the opportunity to catch some local football, which eased the disappointment somewhat.

First stop was Rome, home of Lazio and AS Roma. Both teams are deadly rivals of course but walking in the streets of Rome, you would hardly notice the presence of two big teams in the city. In most of the touristy areas, Roma shirts and souvenirs are on sale, and very rarely Lazio stuff. It is said that the Romanisti are from the capital city, while the Laziali are mostly coming from the Lazio region and the towns around Rome. As an outsider, I won’t take this for granted and leave that to people better placed than me.

There are of course Lazio shops around the city, like the one very close to our hotel in Ottaviano, where the West Ham-Di Canio-Lazio connections were…erm quite obvious.


And SS Lazio are also the oldest team of the city, as they were founded in 1900, while AS Roma are the result of the merger in 1927 of three local teams, a move destined to rival the stronger Northern Italy clubs. Lazio, on their side, refused to take part in this.

We stayed in Rome for five days and luck was on my side, as the Giallorossi of AS Roma were due to play Palermo at home on the Saturday at 6pm (very handy timing), which was the last day of our stay there.

Roma are having a troubled season and the Stadio Olimpico was never going to be full. I nevertheless purchased my ticket a couple of days beforehand, in the club shop located in the posh area of Piazza Colonna, for the hefty sum of 15 euro (these were the cheapest ticket though, some were as high as 100 euro).

As I had done a little bit of homework (but not enough, more of that latter), I had noticed that between the Flaminio metro station and the Stadio Olimpico, located in the north of Rome, there was another football(and occasionally rugby) stadium, the Stadio Flaminio, home of the Italy Rugby team but also of Atletico Roma. Furthermore, this stadium was built in 1957 on the site of the stadium which hosted the 1934 World Cup final, the Stadio Nazionale PNF, destroyed in 1953, so a little bit of an historic place.

Who the hell are Atletico Roma? Well, they are Roma’s third team and I bet that not too many people know that there is actually another professional football team in Rome! The club is the result of a merger in 2004 of two corporate side, Cisco and Lodigiani, both playing in the local amateur leagues. Known as Cisco Roma
until last season, they were promoted to Serie C1 (officially called Lega Pro Prima Divisione nowadays), when they also changed their name to Atletico Roma FC and their colours red and white to blue and white. I had actually heard about Cisco Roma a few years ago, as they were the last club to have the infamous Paolo Di Canio on their books, for the 2006-2007 season.


Atletico Roma take on Gela Calcio in the Stadio Flaminio

Looking forward to take a look at the stadium and maybe sneak in to take a few pictures, I was pleasantly surprised when I discovered that there was actually a game taking place there (there is a God - Ed.) so much for my homework then, as Atletico were taking on Gela, a team from the South coast of Sicily (maybe they travelled together with Palermo to the capital, hence the Saturday afternoon kick-off).

After much discussion with the stewards outside the stadium, they finally allowed me in for the last half-hour. The stadium, which can host 32,000 people, was virtually empty, as they were only about 1,000 people watching this Serie C1 fixture.

Gela won the game 2-1, boosting their survival hopes, while Atletico are, somewhat surprisingly, still fighting for promotion to Serie B through the play-offs. If they do get promoted though, I wonder what kind of crowds they would get in Italy’s second tier (although they certainly would not be alone with a small support, Serie B crowds are often poor, a club like AlbinoLeffe for example are regularly playing in front of only 500 only).


The Atletico Ultras were out in force

After that unexpected bit of action, it was time to move on to the Stadio Olimpico across the Tiber river, a 15 minutes walk from the Flaminio.

The stadium was built in 1930 and called Stadio dei Cipressi, and was part of the larger sport complex known back then as Foro Mussolini. In 1960, it was renamed Stadio Olimpico for the Olympics. Somewhat surprisingly, the Mussolini years legacy is still present, like this modern obelisk in front of the stadium.

Next to the Olimpico is the Stadio dei Marmi (stadium of the marbles) built in 1920, also part of the Foro Mussolini (now Foro Italico), a quite visually stunning place, made of 59 marble statues representing athletes from the Italian provinces.


Stadio dei Marmi

Today, the Olimpico, once more rebuilt for the 1990 World Cup finals, can host 72,000 people. Only about 33,000 came for this AS Roma v US Città di Palermo Serie A game. As I said earlier, Roma are having a bad season by their standards. Claudio Ranieri was sacked in February of this year and replaced by former local favourite Vincenzo Montella, but results have not really improved, the team being in 6th place. Before the game though, the local fans gave their players a good reception, especially to their God, Francesco Totti, who can seemingly do nothing wrong in their eyes.


15 euro for Serie A, tick


The God of the Giallorossi

The day before this game, Roma became the first Italian club to have foreign ownership, when a consortium led by Thomas Di Benedetto (obviously from Italian origins) bought 67% of the club shares. Many American flags were waved by Roma fans, but the Curva Sud were not impressed.

For their part, Palermo have nothing left to play for in the league, concentrating on their run in the Coppa Italia (they are in the semi-finals), and it showed on the pitch, as they largely tried to prevent Roma from playing and rarely tried to attack. Coach Delio Rossi was back on the bench for the visitors, less than two months after he got the sack from crazy Palermo owner, Maurizio Zamparini. Midway through the first half, Roma were awarded a penalty, duly scored by who else than Totti. Everything was set for an easy win for the locals, but it was not to be. Just before half-time, in one of their rare excursions in Roma’s box, Palermo were also awarded a penalty, converted by Chilean Mauricio Pinilla.

After half-time, sensing the crowd getting restless, the locals created a few good chances. After one hour, Montenegrin international Mirko Vucinic came on and immediately missed an open goal from a pass from Frenchman Jérémy Menez (who himself had wasted a great opportunity minutes earlier). From then on, the crowd turned against their team and the players looked nervous and unable to create further danger. The biggest cheer came when Vincenzo Montella juggled with the ball on the touchline. Palermo, who until then were just happy to keep their point, ventured into Roma’s territory and from a good counter-attack, Uruguayan forward Abel Hernandez scored five minutes from time. From that moment, each time Vucinic touched the ball, the crowd booed him (while hundreds were leaving the stadium). And deep into injury time, on another counter, Abel Hernandez scored his second. From the restart, who else but Vucinic scored Roma’s second from a good shoot from just outside the area. The crowd’s reaction to his goal was more
booing and whistling. It finished 3-2 to Palermo, sending their 200 followers wild and more barracking from the AS Roma fans. Roma are still Rome’s second team as Lazio are 4th and in the Champions League places.


The Palermo fans enjoy their trip to the continent.

It was 8pm, time to go back to central Rome and another great Italian meal with my wife and my kid!

The next day, we took the train from Roma’s Termini station south to Naples, the city of Maradona, uncollected rubbish, the Camora, the Vesuvio and of course, SSC Napoli. When exiting the modern Napoli Centrale train station, you get the city in the face. Uncollected rubbish lies everywhere, most of the buildings are covered by tags and graffiti and the whole place looks run down. The next day, I hired a car there for the rest of our trip, and it was the scariest city drive I have ever had, and I have driven before in places such as Athens and Palermo. The setting of the city is stunning though, with the Vesuvio looming above the city and the Gulf of Naples.


Napoli!


The streets of Napoli


Santa Maradona! (and Cavani gets a mention too)

But on to the football, as the local team were hosting Udinese in the Sunday night game. Thanks to EFW member Paul Whitaker’s advice (thanks mate), I had purchased my ticket through the internet, as I was unsure to get a ticket on the day of the game. It turned out to be a good move, as the game was a 60,000 sell-out. The nominal price was the same as in Rome (15 euro), but I had to pay more than that, but hey, like Paul said, it is not every day that you get the chance to watch Napoli in a full San Paolo. And the ticket was waiting for me at our hotel in Rome.

Taking the metro to Stadio San Paolo in the Fuorigrotta district West of the city (if you ever take the metro in Naples, don’t bother buying a ticket as all the turnstiles seem to be broken), there seemed to be surprisingly few Napoli fans on the train and also around the stadium about one hour before kick-off. As I found out later, the reason was simple : most of the fans were already inside the stadium.


The San Paolo parking

In theory, I had a seat in the Curva B, but when I got inside, I soon realized that it would be impossible to get near the place were I was supposed to be seating (while in Rome the day before, it was a lot quieter, even in the Curva where I was sitting). I had to settle for a standing place at one of the Curva’s entrances, and lucky I'm a tall bloke, otherwise I would have seen almost nothing of the game.


Errrm, can I get to my seat please?


The Curva B mean business

The San Paolo was a cauldron of noise, and the Azzuri players were greeted like semi-gods. This season, SSC Napoli are (or rather were) fighting for the Scudetto. Before this game, they were in second place, 6 points and a game in hand behind despised northerners AC Milan. The locals were still dreaming of their first title since 1990 and the magical Maradona days. But Udinese themselves are no mugs. 5th in the table and still with a chance of Champions League qualification, the team from Friuli came to the South without their two best players, Chilean Alexis Sanchez and Napoli born striker Antonio Di Natale and also without a single away fan. OK, it was a far away trip to make on a Sunday night from the Slovenian border to the deep south, but I was expecting a few Bianconeri fans nevertheless.


That’s the one! 


The San Paolo erupts


…while precisely zero Udinese fan made the trip South

The game started brightly for Napoli, crowd favourite Uruguayan striker Edinson Cavani, nicknamed “El Matador”, getting a few chances but then, the local side quickly faded and Udinese resisted without too many problems. In the stands, it was all happening though, with fans jumping up and down and lighting flares – it was more spectacular than on the pitch.

But after 56 minutes, the noisy local crowd was silenced for a while when reported Napoli target Gökhan Inler scored a brilliant goal for the visitors, a shot from far outside the penalty area in the top left corner of Morgan De Sanctis’ goal. Despite the support from their fans, Napoli were unable to find an answer, and 5 minutes later, former Napoli player, Argentinian German Denis scored Udinese’s second, unmarked from Colombian Pablo Armero’s cross. After his assist, Armero kneeled on the ground and made the cross sign, a gesture applauded by many Napoli fans.

Then tempers flared. Maggio headed against the bar, Udinese had Domizzi sent-off as the ref awarded a penalty in the 90th, which Samir Handanovic saved from Cavani, of all people missed. There was still time though for Napoli to score through Giuseppe Mascara, but it was too little too late, and their title dream looked well and truly over.

We then left Naples to head South along the Amalfi coast. The region is home to no less than 6 teams from Serie C1, so if you plan your trip carefully, you could catch a game of the likes of Salernitana, Sorrento, Juve Stabia (in Castellamare de Stabia), Cavese (Cava de’ Tirreni), Paganese and Nocerina (who have just been promoted to Serie B).

I only got the chance to visit Cavese’s stadum, the Stadio Simonetta Lamberti in the pleasant town of Cava de’ Tirreni. All in all the trip was a quite an experience, a throw back to Italian football of the 80s-90s, in the stands at least.


Stadio Simonetta Lamberti, home of SS Cavese 1919


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