UEFA EURO 2024 Qualifiers Group C
Thursday 23 March 2023
Played at Stadio Diego Armando Maradona, Naples
Ground Tick 420
Italian Beer Ticks up to #78
150th England Away Game
Sorrento. This is not my first rodeo.
I do not have a violent football hooligan past. But, I have Blogged before that I was part of an unsustainable drinking & chaos culture surrounding England away games. We were (are) a gang, a firm, a mob. We were even given a name, which we were happy to live up to. The Horrendous Lemons.
You'll agree, that's sort of self deprecating isn't it? I have been a Horrendous Lemon a LOT longer than I have been a Carrier Bagger. On occasions, I explain I've been through my own Truth And Reconciliation Commission. I'm certainly not proud of everything I've done. Plenty got offended, but no one got hurt. So, I'm comfortable with that.
I went to Turin for the England game in 2015. In that Blog, I explained I wasn't at the most famous game England played in Turin, the World Cup Semi Final in 1990. I wasn't at that game because I had already been deported from Italy the morning of the Quarter Final in Naples.
Deported. That was not my first rodeo.
Because I had already been deported from Rimini, Italy (for the first time) just six days previously. To my knowledge, I am one of only two England fans (waves - hi Mark) deported twice from Italia 90. Emphasising - none of those incidents involved violence on my part. If it did, I'd say so. I have subsequently been back to Rimini a few times. Sheffield United in the Anglo Italian Cup. England away in nearby San Marino. Even England U21 in their EUROs.
But, this current trip to Naples is the first time I've been back to Sorrento since the Italian Police arrested me in my Sorrento hotel and deported me, Alitalia First Class I might add, in 1990.
So, I now need to explain the picture heading this Blog. On a nostalgia mooch, I took that picture on the rather narrow Vico Terzo Rota in Sorrento. Indeed you can just catch a glimpse of the No Entry sign as the street narrows to the point a car won't get down it. The Hotel Zì Teresa, where I was staying, is stage right. The Polizia di Stato, where I was put in the cells, is (as you can see) stage left.
In my ever helpful state, I had made sure Italian Plod only had to Perp Walk me across the fucking street.
Italy v England. This is not my first rodeo.
Currently, my faction of The Horrendous Lemons have a rule. If you're playing Italy away, or indeed in the EURO Final at Wembley, get to the ground early and get in before the security arrangements break down.
How the fuck did we get here? Not "in case the security arrangements break down". Because, they surely fucking will. Get there before.
It's insane. Italian grounds have excellent physical arrangements. Away ends are caged and gated and often approached by different roads to home fan Curvas. Italian grounds have excellent legal arrangements. Obvs they're a ballache. But, every ticket has to have a name on. And those named tickets are legally required to be matched to a photo ID (ie passport) at the entrance. (I've even had to do that at Italian Serie C games).
That is an excellent base for maintaining security. But, they constantly fuck that up by putting an insane number of unnecessary moving parts on top of all that. Stewards, Plod and more Plod INSIDE the physical caged and gated areas. Which you've had to show your ticket and passport to legally get into in the first place. What are they employing so many breathing bodies to do? Well, of course, if they've got nothing to do, they'll create.
AFTER I'd got in the caged and gated away fans compound by showing my ticket and passport, I had to show them THREE more fucking times to banks of Stewards and Plod. And, when I got to the top of the ramp, these fuckers were waiting.
The fucking Guardia di Finanza. The Financial Police. Responsible for combatting organised financial criminals. I'd lost it (in a smiley way) by then;
"Hello Officer"
I said. Presenting him with my ticket, passport and now my CREDIT CARD…
"I see you're the Financial Police."
Anyway, my Horrendous Lemon clique got in a long time before the security arrangements broke down!!!
England away. This is not my first rodeo.
That's a milestone of sorts. My 150th England away game. I binned off the World Cups in Russia and Qatar. As the FIFA Fiasco Fuckery doesn't always meet my requirements. But, maybe it'd be nice to get to 200 England away games before I'm done. Indeed, it is a stipulation of my Last Will And Testament that one of the Horrendous Lemons take my ashes to an England away game in the hope they'll simply be lost in a bar or away end, with everyone too pissed to remember what they've done with 'em.
Stadio Diego Armando Maradona is the 420th different ground I've watched football on.
England were worth that win. Very, very sloppy in the opening minutes, they quickly regained some control. And dominated the first half I felt. Could have been more than two up at the half. How Grealish has missed that one I'll never know. Did he try to get the outside of his boot on it? In patches, Jude Bellingham looked some boy. I can't explain why, but I hope he doesn't go to the Premier League. He's better off staying in Germany. But money will talk.
However, Italy got it together for the second half. And Grealish, Saka and Jude were bit players. Even anonymous at times. But, we took it to Italy, in Naples, and beat them away for the first time since the early sixties (I'm reading).
Italian Beer. This is not my first rodeo.
I pushed my Italian Beer ticks up to 78. Mainly in;
La Bottega della Birra
Via S. Nicola, 13, Sorrento
I won't claim to be an expert. But surely that's the only craft beer bar in Sorrento. He'd got six keg lines. But only one of those was set aside for Italian craft. The others were Belgian faux Abbeys and Euro Lagers. Disappointingly, that single Italian craft didn't change all the nights we were there. Although, it was excellent.
Birra dell'Eremo (Capodacqua, Italy), TUKA, Hazy New England style IPA on Keg at 6.2%
Dry hopped with Sabro, Mosaic and Simcoe. Claims to use a yeast from Vermont. That was a great beer. Not overjuiced. The hop flavours develop nicely and it packed a punch from the off.
Once we'd ticked that keg, we were into the excellent range of Italian craft Tins. At times, I was pointing at Tins on the shelf and asking;
"Put one of those in the fridge for me please, and I'll drink it tomorrow."
And, then the next day I'd walk in and he'd make a big fuss and get it out of the fridge and present it and ask me whether that'd be alright for me.
On other occasions, he'd be apologetic because the one I was after wasn't already in the fridge. Me, I didn't give two fucks. The what is in the fridge then lottery was great fun. Better than choosing if I'm honest.
As it happens, I "won";
LIQUIDA Birrificio Indipendente (Ostellato, Italy), POP Chopper, American style IPA from a Tin at 7%.
What Fresh Hell is this? Same beer. Multiple Can colourways. Be careful bruv. You'll just keep ordering it thinking it's a new tick. Nice beer. Just doesn't quite win the Richness Handicap Stakes. Bitterness lasts a long time.
Bit of Horrendous Lemon throwback, bit of before the security arrangements break down, great England win, lots of Italian Craft Beers.
This has not been my first fucking rodeo.
You can find ALL my previous Blogs at
Would you please consider subscribing (free) to have my Blog delivered to your email inbox (via Substack). Thank you.
You can find me on Social Media
Twitter @ball_sup
Untappd ball_sup
Stats
I have now Blogged from 1,224 games in 3,138 days
No comments:
Post a Comment