Ipswich Town 0 Peterborough United 1

This week I have thought very little about football. Until Friday night, when I checked, I wasn’t totally certain even who Town would be playing today.  I am not sure why this was; an unusual and very uncharacteristic fixation with work perhaps? Lockdown fatigue?  Disappointment with recent results? Or may be a suppressed subconscious knowledge that we will be playing Peterborough United and are therefore likely to lose.

It is not until Saturday morning therefore that I log onto the Ipswich Town website, copy my code down and then type that code into the ifollow.  Relieved that I have organised what I consider to be my foreseeable future I leave my wife Paulene at the piano and take a walk out into the cold and gloomy streets, because it is important that we exercise if we are not to become ugly and obese.  About half an hour later I return to find Paulene no longer at the piano and about to finish a twenty minute stint on her exercise cycle before tuning into the BEIN Sports tv channel, courtesy of the Amazon Firestick, to watch Clermont Foot 63 versus AJ Auxerre in French Ligue 2, a fixture which reminds me incidentally that Town’s own Sylvain Legwinski was born in Clermont Ferrand.  I witness Clermont ,who are playing with just Mohammed Bayo ‘up front’,  create numerous chances and then take a 13th minute lead through Jodel Dossou who is playing a sort of Gwion Edwards role wide on the right.  With a little over twenty minutes gone of the match I head to the kitchen to prepare a light salad lunch with Comte cheese and Prosciutto di Parma ham.

Half-time or ‘mi-temps’ arrives at the Stade Gabriel-Montpied in Clermont-Ferrand with the home team still ahead by a single goal. I leave Paulene in the small part of the Auvergne that has become our living room and head to Portman Road, which is back in the kitchen with the dirty plates and cutlery from lunch.  I put the kettle on for Paulene and sensing that I might be in need of an alcoholic crutch, pour myself a pre-match ‘pint’ (330ml) of Westmalle Dubbel Trappist beer (£2.20 from Waitrose).  I enjoy the thought that a Trappist beer should be the beer of choice for the notoriously quiet Portman Road crowd – if there ever is one again.  

The ifollow broadcast begins, with commentary as ever from BBC Radio Suffolk’s Brenner Woolley, and his side-kick Mick Mills, who is straight into his lengthy pre-match soliloquy.  Mick believes that there is no longer a home advantage and that “…it levels off under the Covid situation”.  It’s easy to see why Mick would believe this given Town’s collection of four defeats from their last five home games. Brenner takes up the mike from Mick and I can’t help laughing when he reveals that Town’s new loan signing from Preston North End, Josh Harrop has tested positive for Covid before he’s even kicked a ball for us. If Marcus Evans sold our club, with our luck it would be to Donald Trump.

Town kick-off towards what used to be called Churchman’s and Brenner tells us he is trying to work out if Paul Lambert is on the bench today; apparently it’s difficult to make him out amongst  a dark mass of big black coats and beanie hats down by the touchline.  Sartorially obsessed, Brenner describes what colour kits the teams are wearing and it sounds like he enjoys the alliteration of the Peterborough goalkeeper Pym, being dressed in purple.  The kettle boils and I make a cup of tea for Paulene. Town win an early corner.  “It’s a good start” according to Mick “We’ve forced two or three throw-ins”.  Brenner follows up with “Pressure, early doors” unable to resist the temptation to break open his locker of football-ese expressions at the earliest opportunity, although ‘early doors’ is inevitably at the top of the pile.

The ball is mostly in the Peterborough half of the pitch, but seldom in their penalty area. “Again not good distribution from Chambers” says Brenner as the Town captain lumps the ball forward inaccurately. “He berates himself in the aftermath” continues Brenner, which doesn’t really atone for Chambers’ failings but produces a welcome mental image of the Town stalwart schizophrenically shouting and pointing his fingers at himself.  Town’s positive start has evaporated a little. “Nobody really taking advantage of the game at the moment” says Mick, not quite using all the right words to convey what he wants to say.  Feeling a soft blanket of disinterest creeping over me I glance out of the kitchen window at the two plastic shopping bags that I hung on the washing line yesterday evening. Mesmerisingly, the shopping bags waft back and forth on the faintest breeze.

Back on the ifollow and BBC Radio Suffolk, Brenner breaks my concentration. “He’s not done well at all so far, the captain” says Brenner as Luke Chambers makes a two-metre pass to an ungrateful opposition player on the edge of the Peterborough penalty box.  It’s not unusual for Brenner to make a statement and then only tell us who it’s about at the end of the sentence; I suppose it provides a little suspense when the football doesn’t.  Pleasingly Brenner soon has better news and reports that he has evidently spotted Paul Lambert who is wearing a snood, big coat and beanie hat.  I tick it off my list of things I need to know about this afternoon’s match. Having tuned into the theme of winter clothing Brenner then announces “Brown, another player with gloves on in the Peterborough side”. 

The game has entered a mildly engaging phase as the two teams appear well matched, but no one is creating goal scoring chances.  “Cat and mouse” says Mick. “Even Stevens” says Brenner, not to be outdone by the expert.  “They’ve done well so far, Ipswich Town” adds Brenner using his back to front sentence construction again.  Gwion Edwards is awarded a free-kick on the left of the Peterborough penalty area after a foul by Frankie Kent.  After a lengthy description of the event Mick concludes that he’s not sure if it was a free-kick at all. Unperturbed, presumably because he’s not listening to BBC Radio Suffolk , referee Mr Coggins doesn’t change his mind.  The ball is played to little Alan Judge who shoots and misses.

Flynn Downes commits a couple of his trademark, pointless, petulant fouls but escapes a booking.  “Chambers on the left, Chambers on the right” says Brenner probably correcting himself, but possibly showing that he is confused about where Luke Chambers is, or about which is his left and which is his right. Nearly a third of the game has passed and Peterborough win their first corner and then a second before   Siriki Dembele gets the “first sight of the goal for Peterborough United” according to Brenner; Dembele misses and Mick launches into a long monologue about why the game is even.

 Out of the blue Siriki Dembele has a run into the penalty area in the company of Aristote Nsiala. Nsiala makes a tackle, Dembele falls to the ground and after initially giving a corner referee Mr Coggins, who shares a surname with the amusingly named American TV evangelist Pastor Randy Coggins the second, awards a penalty to Peterborough.  Peterborough’s top scorer, Jonson Clarke-Harris, who greedily has three surnames, steps up to blast the ball into next week and over the cross-bar.  “Brilliant!” says Mick enthusiastically as I simultaneously guffaw loudly.  “If you go that high, there’s a risk you can hit it over the bar” says Mick sagely, but apparently not realising that if you put it that high it will always go over the bar, because the bar is set at 2.44metres above ground and doesn’t move. 

In my back garden it’s snowing, and at Portman Road Mick advises that Peterborough are “starting to loosen up a little”, although I don’t think the two things are related.  Mick is having a good afternoon at the microphone and cheekily rivals Brenner with some superior football-speak as he pleasingly refers to Town’s new Covid-infected signing as “The boy Harrop”.   Sadly Mick goes on to state the obvious as he explains about footballers that “You can almost say they’re successful by stats”, proposing that the players who score most goals and make most decisive passes are the better players.

Back on the pitch Luke Chambers spectacularly slices the ball away and it travels high up into what I still call the Pioneer stand. Evidently the ball lands near the commentary position and Mick is moved to boast that had it landed just a little bit closer to him, he would have played it back to Luke Chambers’ feet, he probably would have too; he certainly wouldn’t have sliced it.  A minute of added on time is played once the first forty-five have elapsed and it’s half-time.

Grasping the moment I put the kettle on and grab a half-time snack consisting of a Nature Valley peanut and chocolate protein bar.   Back in the Auvergne, in the living room, Clermont still lead Auxerre 1-0; they almost double their lead in the dying moments of the game but don’t, but nevertheless climb to second in the Ligue 2 table above Toulouse, who don’t play until Monday.  On BEIN Sports tv attention moves north and east to Hauts de France and the Stade Felix Bolleart-Delis where RC Lens are playing Olympique Marseille in Ligue 1. 

Helplessly I return to Portman Road where I pour the tea into my TSV 1860, mug which my friend Mick (not ‘Millsy’ sadly) kindly brought me back from Munich in 2019. I still imagine Mick descending the steps from the aeroplane and announcing not “Peace in our time” but “Tea in this mug”. One of the things I like best about the mug is the word spulmaschinebestandig printed on the bottom, which is German for dishwasher-safe.

On the ifollow the action resumes, it is four minutes past four. Within seconds Peterborough win a corner but it comes to nothing.  “Lots of huff and puff” says Mick misquoting the wolf in the story of the three little pigs. “No real quality at either end of the pitch” he adds a little unnecessarily for anyone who’s watched Ipswich previously this season.  Brenner then refers to Mark McGuinness as “the teenage defender” and I think what a good title that would be for a super-hero, before Andre Dozzell makes a raking diagonal pass to no one in particular, apparently because that’s what he does. The ifollow has become staccato with frequent buffering and for a short while the broadcast becomes almost unwatchable. Weirdly for someone doing a live commentary Brenner seems to have the same experience “Time seemed to stop there for a second” he says as Teddy Bishop loses the ball, then pushes his opponent over rather than try and get it back.

“The passing isn’t very good” says Mick, confirming for the BBC Radio Suffolk listeners what the ifollow watchers have probably already noticed.  Over an hour has been played and a caption appears on the screen to tells us that the proportion of possession is 51% to 50% in Peterborough’s favour, which is mind blowing and proves that anything, even the impossible,  is possible in the EFL.

The sixty-ninth minute arrives, the ball is crossed into the Ipswich penalty area and with the grace of a giraffe that’s been stung by a bee, Mark McGuinness the “teenage defender” slices the ball into the Town goal to give Peterborough what will prove to be a winning lead. “Oh bugger” I say, sensing that the game is probably lost even with twenty minutes to play; and I’d had such high hopes.

Little Alan Judge, the sadly anonymous Aaron Drinan and Teddy Bishop are soon replaced by Luke Thomas, on loan from Barnsley, Freddie Sears and Jon Nolan.  Nolan quickly hits a shot over the cross bar from 25 metres.  “ Town have really come to life since that triple substitution from the bench” Brenner tells us, suggesting, but providing no evidence, that substitutions from other places are possible too.  Gwion Edwards has a shot which is apparently deflected away from goal by a Peterborough player but no corner is given by the tv evangelist’s namesake.  It is now snowing.  A close-up of the electronic scoreboard at Portman Road shows that the ifollow on-screen clock is twenty seconds ahead of the actual game, which implies Brenner was right and time really did stand still.  If only time had stood still a bit more and it was still 1981.  There are just ten minutes left of normal time and Brenner is clutching at straws on behalf of Town supporters as he speculates that there won’t be enough snow to have the game called off now.  More sensibly Brenner then plays with words saying  “Up goes Downes”.

With time running out Brenner gets to use his “..runs into traffic” phrase as Jon Nolan runs into two opponents at once; five minutes of added on time are announced.  Tomas Holy goes up for a corner but the ball is carefully directed away from him, and although Toto Nsiala gets to volley it spectacularly in to the Peterborough net, it had gone out before it was played back to him.  Coggins calls time, Ipswich lose at home, again.   “A better performance than a week ago at Burton” concludes Brenner. “A fair result would have been a draw” says Mick.  

I turn off the ifollow and draw down the blinds to shut out the gloom.  I think I shall pretend this never happened. There’s another game on Tuesday, perhaps we’ll win that.

Olympique Nimes 3 AJ Auxerre 0

Nimes in the Occitanie region of southern France is a wonderful and ancient city with a plethora of Roman remains including a virtually complete amphitheatre and temple (La Maison Carre), which frankly make most of the Roman remains in England look like random heaps of rubble and barely worth bothering about.
History notwithstanding, tonight we are in Nimes for the match between Olympique Nimes and AJ Auxerre, two football clubs that have in the past both played at the top level of French football, Auxerre having even won the Ligue 1 title. Today however, both are in the under-hyped Ligue 2, the second of France’s two professional leagues. Despite France’s reputation for haute cuisine, Ligue 2 is sponsored by Domino’s Pizza.
We bought our tickets36417703784_710e709552_o at the Stade des Costières stadium earlier in the day to avoid any queue, although we did have to wait a short while because the sign in the window of the guichet read ‘back in five minutes’. Tickets for the main stand cost 14 euros, whilst those for the identical stand opposite are 9 euros and a ticket behind the goal costs 4 euros. We buy 9 euro tickets in the Tribune Sud (South stand). There are acres of free car parking all around the Stade des Costières and arriving a little more than an hour before kick-off it’s easy to park up near the exit for a quick getaway after the match. Nevertheless, there are plenty of people here already, buying tickets, standing about, socialising and heading to bars for a pre-match aperitif.36850917370_8ee635af66_o
The stadium itself isn’t open yet, but we file in a minute or two after seven o’clock and the now standard frisking and bag inspection. The Stade des Costières was opened in 1990 and designed by Vittorio Gregotti and Marc Chausse; Gregotti was also architect of the Stadio Communale Luigi Ferraris in Genoa, one of the venues for the 1990 World Cup. Although the stadium does now look a little run down in places, it is nevertheless a fine building and a great place to watch football. There are two broad sweeps of grey seating on either side with roofs suspended from exposed steelwork.

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The ends are open and each corner of the ground is a white concrete block containing the accesses, buvettes and toilets and on the main-stand side, club offices. Inside these blocks the ramps and staircases read more like an art gallery than a football stadium and from the ramps there are views across the seats through sculpted openings. The stands behind the goals with their bench seats and classical-style structures at the back, which whilst looking a bit naff somehow also look alright in this context, make me think of the arène (amphitheatre) in the centre of town; I hear a far of voice of a hawker “ Otter lips, Badger spleen!”.
The sun is setting spectacularly behind the Tribune Ouest casting soft shadows on the white concrete of the Stade, the clouds that have made it a grey day are dispersing, the floodlights are on and the teams are warming up. There is a wonderful air of expectancy and relaxed sociability as the Stade fills up and people throng by the pitch and on the broad concourse behind the seats. Some men drink beer; some stuff their faces with baguettes from the buvette, whilst other have brought food from home, carefully wrapped in tin foil. Bags of a locally produced brand of ‘artisan’ potato crisp are much in evidence. 36505980753_7419e799c4_oNimes’ crocodile mascot does his rounds as people, mostly children, pose for selfies with him; I am very tempted but my wife gives me a look. With the teams’ and Ligue 2 banners on the pitch a man with a radio mike gees up the crowd as the teams enter from the corner of the ground. There are ultras both behind the goal and beside the pitch, waving flags, standing clapping and jumping about. The chant is “Allez-Nimois, Allez-Nimois”. I join in. Why the hell isn’t it like this at Ipswich? The crowd is less than half the size of that at Portman Road (6,771 tonight) but three, four, five, a hundred times more involved. There are just a handful of stewards in the stand; I don’t feel like I am here to be policed, but to enjoy the match.

 


The game begins; Nimes kicking off towards the Tribune Est in their red shirts with white shorts and red socks, Auxerre in white shirts with blue shorts and white socks. After only eight minutes a poor punch by the Nimes ‘keeper Marillat requires a second punch but the effort is too much and he falls to the ground clutching his knee. Both the physio and club doctor attend to him and Marillat carries on, but for less than fifteen minutes before he has to be substituted. Nimes lose a second player to injury in Valdivia who had previously been fouled by Auxerre’s Phillipoteaux, who is the first player to be cautioned by referee Monsieur Aurelien Petit. How witty of the LFP to send a referee to Nimes who shares his first name with a Roman Emperor. Nimes are attacking more than Auxerre or in greater numbers, but are creating no more or better chances. It doesn’t look much like anyone will score.
In the stand a large man in a white polo shirt, which barely conceals the presence of flabby breasts, is exhorting his fellow supporters with the use of a megaphone. At first he is ignored but he doesn’t give up and begins to sing softly, but then with increasing strength before he signals to a drummer besides him who breaks out a rhythm and people to start to jump and clap and sing and have a helluva of a time, before going quiet and the whole performance is repeated. It’s like a flash-mob version of Bjork’s “It’s oh so quiet” in which the main lyrics are “Allez-Nimois”. It’s a lot of fun.
Four minutes of added time for injuries precede half-time in which there is a shoot-out between two teams of what are probably under-tens. The goalkeepers are somewhat dwarfed by the goals and the shoot-out takes a long time because the boys have to run from the half way line; there is one girl in the two teams and her goal receives the biggest cheer. How might radical feminists view that? As positive discrimination or as patronising? Discuss. Meanwhile an advertisement hoarding encourages spectators to travel to the match on the “Trambus”, which is really just an articulated bus with fared in wheels and a dedicated bus lane, but it’s good to see the football club and local authority combining to promote public transport in spite of all the free parking spaces.
Within thirty seconds of the re-start Nimes have a corner after a good dribble, but poor shot from Thioub. From the corner the ball is partly cleared and Auxerre’s wonderfully named 36 year old Guadeloupian, Mickael Tacalfred tries to clear the ball further but collides with Nimes’ Bozok and Monsieur Aurelien Petit awards a penalty and instantly brandishes his red card in the direction of Tacalfred for dangerous play (a high boot or “coup de pied haut”). Both the award of a penalty and the sending off seem somewhat harsh. The game is delayed as the matter is discussed at length by the Auxerrois but eventually Savannier puts Nimes ahead. “B-u-u-u-u-u-t! ” shouts the announcer through the public address system before calling out the goal-scorer’s first name to which the crowd give his surname in response.
More drama ensues as Auxerre’s Arcus collides with the replacement Nimes ‘keeper Sourzac. Arcus had already been booked in the first half so quickly leaves the scene of the incident as Sourzac stays down clutching his chest, but is of course okay really and later he easily saves Auxerre’s only shot on target.
Sixty-three minutes have passed and now there is a free-kick to Nimes and a booking for Auxerre’s Yattara who had been whining all game. Nimes’ Moroccan forward Alioui does a little shuffle, as if to take a rugby-style kick, before running up and arrowing a shot over the defensive wall and into the top left hand corner of the Auxerre goal. A brilliant shot which predictably is met with a great deal of noise and excitement, all of it justified. At the front of the stand, fans pogo whilst chanting an extract from Bizet’s Carmen.
Nimes are exultant, Auxerre vanquished but it isn’t over yet. Alioui keels over to earn another free kick to Nimes in roughly the same place as he took the first. Whilst he repeats the earlier performance with a missile of a shot that Kim Jong-un might covet, Auxerre’s ‘keeper Boucher dives to save the shot, only for the Nimes captain Briançon to score from the rebound. Joy abounds amongst les Nimois.
The final fifteen minutes sees the best football of the match as both teams relax, knowing the inevitable result and not wanting to add to the tally of yellow and red cards. Nimes ultimately deserve their win, but have had a big helping hand from the referee Monsieur Aurelien Petit along the way. Nevertheless, overall it’s been a blast; I have had a lot of fun on a fine evening, in a beautiful stadium in a fine city with excellent supporters, even if the France Football correspondent later only marks the match as 8 out of 20. Allez Nimois!

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