VALE DO TEJO U21 TOURNAMENT - FEB 2008Kevin Donnelly in Portugal
Having previously viewed those people who attended the B match in Turkey as somewhat detached from reality due to inhabiting Planet Sad, I was somewhat embarassed to find myself on a flight to Lisbon to attend a couple of U21 matches in the depths of the Iberian countryside . A period of unemployment and a £32 return flight on Easyjet plus the chance to get some mid winter sunshine helped make my mind up. Saddo moi? Surely some mistake. Other attendees included LA's Scott Kelly, Burnsy and girlfriend from the PTA, Ludo, of tartan tea cosy wearing fame, the Riddochs from Aberdeen and two of the weirdest looking Scotland fans I have ever seen, Neil and JJ. Will from Swindon was also in attendance with his charming girlfriend and his mother who went to the top of the popularity charts by getting me an Abrantes pennant. We could see the ground from the train as we pulled into Abrantes after a 90 minute train journey. Clearly if the ground could be seen from the station it was but a mere stroll away. Taxis? Pah, we are Scots, who needs taxis when the ground is so close? Well after a 20 minute walk when the ground, if anything, looked further away, myself, Burnsy and his girlfriend caved in and decided a taxi was required. A further 10 minutes in the taxi brought us to the ground so god knows how far it actually was in walking terms. Unfortunately the spread of the English language to Europe can have its drawbacks. Ok, you can normally get served in bars with greater ease these days but when the knowledge of the language leads to the emergence of a teenage Portuguese Alastair McGowan, it gets a bit much. Every shout of “Come on Scotland” was mimicked by a youth sitting behind us. Initially irritating it soon became vaguely amusing as did the trumpet player who copied every toot of Ludo's on his bugle. The bemused looks were not confined to those sitting in the stands I can tell you. Bemusement turned to anger when he got himself sent off for a second yellow card with one of the most inept tackles it has been my misfortune to witness. Scotland were trying to knock it about but a clearly superior Portuguese team coasted to a 2-0 lead before a bit of a fightback, much to the amusement of Alastair McGowan behind us. The following day saw the TA caravan pitch up at Cartaxo station in search of a bus or a taxi. All we saw was a sign to Cartaxo and a sense of deja vu descended. Never mind I would walk 500 miles, another 2 mile walk to the outskirts of town on a hot February day was a real pain. The squad hotel was bang next to the ground in Cartaxo so we had the somewhat odd scene of the squad actually walking to the game. The match catering was superb with pork steaks marinated in red wine, chili and garlic. These were then fried up and served in rustic bread rolls. This game was much better than the first as we had managed to get hold of some team sheets so we actually knew who we were shouting abuse at and, more importantly, there were no mimicking kids. That said, little abuse was shouted as the payers were all working hard and actually appeared to be trying to pass the ball through the midfield. A couple of defensive errors gave the Ukranians a 2-0 lead before Scotland battled back to draw 2-2. This was achieved with 10 men as well, Cuthbert being sent off for a professional foul which I did not see. Was I brought down by Wengeresque moment of blindness? No, I was in the bar stocking up on pork rolls. The most bizarre offer of the trip came from an SFA blazer as we were leaving the hotel next to the ground post match. This was an offer of soup with the official party which the more cynical amongst us saw as perfectly timed as it was made just as our taxis were arriving. The following day I was sitting on the banks of the Tagos in brilliant sunshine having a lovely wee lunch when I thought maybe there is more to this following of Scotland's other teams to obscure wee places than meets the eye. It should not be restricted to inhabitants of Planet Sad so get out there if you've nothing better to do. |
But never mind the playing on the terraces, what of the team I hear you ask? Captained by Rangers Steve Naismith, the Scots got off to a bad start when Hamill of Kilmarnock broke ranks on the walk on to the pitch to do a bit of showboating by jumping up in the air and heading an imaginary ball a couple of times. 