PzU Field Report: Legia Warsawa 1 : 0 Łódź Widzew

(Nb. This blog post has been quite delayed as I spent most of the following day trying to work out if I could record my own podcasts and somehow put off my inevitable RSI for a little while longer. Sadly, although I was able to download all the right software, it looks like I'll be playing Edward Seizure Hands sooner rather than later).

A Polish football game, then...

Violent Football Thugs Youth Division

I had been warned about going to any game of Polish football by just about anyone over the four years I'd been visiting Poland. Friends in Wroclaw would agree to go and then at the last minute they would call up with some tragic domestic problem - such as the pet Elephant loosing its surly bonds and running rampage -  that prevented them attending. I wasn't prepared to go it alone just in case, so had put it off until now. In case you don't already know, most of Poland's football stadia and fans resemble the 70s in the UK and Polish chuligani - already fairly well built guys in comparison to any nation - are a pretty intimidating bunch of blokes.

Perhaps missing out was a good thing, as watching a game in 'Wro' would have made me a default Sląsk Wroław boy. I am an Ipswich Town man through and through and always will be. Although I might enjoy watching other teams play n TV, and last year saw Man City vs Chelsea at a corporate hospitality event (never again, if you dine with the devil don't expect to enjoy the sports) I'll never feel any joy in watching another team win. But now that I live in a foreign country - and I can safely say it's unlikely Legia and Ipswich will ever meet on the field - I don't feel so duty bound. 

You never forget the first woman you sleep with (how could I? She tried to make me pay double!) but you can't lose your virginity twice, so I'm glad the first game I got to see was in my home city of Warsaw.

Footage of the game is here: 

Getting Tickets..

For anyone interested in watching a game tickets are available for non-nationals from the box office and range from 35 zinzillas to 100+. You need a form of ID which they will take in order to register you as an attendee. Polish nationals will need to complete a form - which they can do on the day from the office next to the bar - in order to receive an ID card. All the tickets are scanned on entry so the authorities know who's inside.

Here we go...

The atmosphere before the game wasn't manic and the crowd - mainly men with a smattering of young children and younger girls (15 - 30) were fairly orderly. Every once in a while a larger group of blokes would pass by chanting but the smiles on their faces meant I wasn't too stressed out as I waited for my companions to arrive. The Police were present, riot vans and dogs at the ready, but it was all very low-key. Compared to the atmosphere of hostility and cooped-up aggression you can get before an English game, this was still mild stuff.

The Stadium...

The stadium is newly built and it shows: there are wide, spacious entryways to the stands/terraces, with a high roof and lots of food and drink points. It reminded me of many of the 40,000 grounds that I'd seen in South Africa for the World Cup. A nice, new, medium sized stadium. If bare concrete could sparkle, we would have needed sunglasses.

Security was low key: passing through the turnstyles I was asked to take my cap off, given a pat down and bob's your uncle. Within 30 seconds we were inside the stadium. 

Emerging out onto the tribune (terrace) to a sea of scarves raised high. If you've watched the YouTube video I posted above you'll see this moment. I was immediately struck by the volume of noise from what was a crowd of about 20,000. (Actually 16,400. PN) There were a few moments when I first moved to Poland when I felt nakedly and obviously foreign but few were more acute than now. Every single person there was singing their hearts out and all I could do was watch silently from the sidelines.

Perhaps not quite at the sidelines, however. To my right was the Zyleta (Razor) stand, home of the Ultras and filled to the brim. We were perhaps thirty seats to the left in section 111. Although the Widzew fans hadn't turned up (distance? security? Not sure) the lads were still giving it full guns, aided by an MC feller on a stand with two drummers beating out the rhythms. I've been at games before and felt the adrenaline rush caused by thousands singing in unison, but this was exceptionally hypnotic and powerful: the drummers and MC didn't need to whip the crowd up into a frenzy, they were already there, instead they controlled them, as soon as one chant ended the muffled exhortations of the MC would begin again, a momentary pause then several thousand well trained voices rang out in unison. It was spectacular, and in 96 minutes of football it never stopped.

In addition there were various hand gestures to master as well, as in the picture on the right.  I quickly realised that the singing and chants bore no relation to the actual game, as in England, because if it had have done then there would have been utter silence. Worse football I have yet to see! In the whole of the first half there wasn't a single attempt on goal by either of the sides...

...Instead there were passes that looped high into the stands, passes to everywhere and nowhere but anywhere than a fellow player. Crunching tackles were completely mis-timed, pace was unheard of everything was generally dire. If this had been an English game, the crowd would be dejected and abusive. Middle aged men would be jumping out of their seat, eyes bulging and exploding with frustration at their side. Instead the Legia fans, acting as one, continued to chant in their rhythmic fashion, linking arms and jumping up and down in a reverse "poznan." 

I started to feel relaxed although still embarrassed I couldn't join in. That was shattered when a player (who happened to be black) from the Widzew team was substituted and the Legia fan in front of me turned around to his friend and started making monkey noises. I could hardly believe it.

What was strangest was having done so, he immediately turned back to the game without even a word to his mate, who didn't respond. He wasn't looking for a reaction but acting out of reflex. It spoilt what up until then had been a very friendly and open environment. As events a few days later proved, the atmosphere could turn into something darker quite quickly. If they're like this when they win, what are they like when they lose?! For all that, it's still a place where adults feel comfortable taking their young children, as this little man on the left demonstrates.

The player of the match for me was the Legia winger Manu, but really the football was dreadful and Legia were lucky to pot one to make it one-nil. I hadn't really gone for the football this time, though, but a chance to see a style and intensity of support that is gradually dying out from the English game. I will never be able to watch or go to another game in the UK without remembering just how passionate and loyal the Legia fans were and also how totally inconsequential the progress of the game was to the depth of their support.

It's more clear to me now that being a football fan in Poland is much more a symbol of identity and belonging than it is in the UK, although that's hard to believe as I write it. In that respect the blizzard of Legia and Polonia graffiti on the streets starts to make more sense: For 90 minutes that Friday evening, the crowd lived and breathed their team, united in spirit they acted as one and no doubt would have been happy to fight if called to. It was tribal, deafening and utterly addictive.

I can't wait to go back.