I spent a bit of time googling to try and find a local fixture in Prague I could attend, with a lack of European fixtures this week I was hoping for a League game. That game ended up being at Pragues third team Bohemians Praha 1905 at the Dolicek stadium.
After taking in some of the sights of the city during the day I excitedly began to try and navigate my way to the ground. The number 22 tram took me there but with no information points nearby I took a leap of faith, it failed and 5 minutes later I was crossing the road and getting the same tram back in the other direction.
When I finally arrived at the right stop I instantly did what all football fans do when trying to find a new stadium, look for the floodlights. As I turned a corner on the street there it was looking back at me, the 7500 capacity stadium illuminated and ready for action. After a few failed conversations with very unhelpful and non English speaking stewards I managed to find my way to one of the gates for home fans.
There were 5 people queueing in front of me and the turnstiles were not yet open, I stood patiently and took in my surroundings. Firstly a police van pulled up on the side of the road with the blue lights flashing and 8 officers frantically ran into a dark park, whilst 2 kept watch by the entrance. Something, somewhere was going on. Shortly after this an ambulance pulled up and was let into the ground, nothing unusual in this but when it was followed by a fire engine I began to realise what I'd let myself in for.
After a short wait the turnstiles began to click and I was allowed to buy my ticket. A grand total of £6.50 got me entrance and a programme to what can only be describes as a food market. Behind the main stand was a concerted area with 6 stands selling everything from light refreshments to beer, which I later discovered you could also take into the ground with you.
My first action was to use the facilities and I was greeted with a urinal covered in bohemians ultras stickers, at this point I still had no idea if I would be sat amongst the crazed fan group or not, with kick off one hour away I didn't have long to wait.
To ensure I got the full experience I began to queue for a beer and food and when reaching the front was offered the choice of sausage or sausage. The choice was an easy one although the uniqueness in the presentation was obvious. On a paper plate I had, one extra long sausage, one small slice of bread and a dollop of mustard, a far cry from the straightforward pasty or Balti pie you would find at SJP. As a country renowned for its beer production the alcohol in the ground was a disappointment, similar to what you find at larger grounds in England it tasted like watered down mass produced rubbish. The plastic beer glasses were a feat of engineering brilliance however, on the side of each container was a clip, not to dissimilar to a belt clip, that allowed you to attach them together if you purchased more than one.
After finishing my food I walked into the main stand and looked around. The first thing that stood out was the end behind the goal, similar to Oxford there was no stand, the only difference being that they had replaced the wall with wiring to stop the ball disappearing out of the ground. Opposite me running the length of the pitch was a row of 3-5 seats spanning the entire touchline.
To the left of me was a larger seated stand behind the goal, I could tell that this is where the real fans had gathered and at kick off I was proved right. As the players came on the the pitch they were greeted with rapturous applause, flares, a sea of smoke and numerous streamers. It had started and the atmosphere was intense. As the smoke died down it revealed a large flag that had been raised with a masked figure, perhaps their calling card. Even the stewards were involved as they held up a banner the width of the pitch with writing on, unfortunately not being fluent in the local language I was unable to decipher it.
The atmosphere was impressive, with only 4108 fans in attendance it was louder than anything I have heard before from a fan base of that size, it was not only loud but relentless. 90 minutes of non stop singing to support their team, I would assume ordinarily it would be a war cry to the opposition fans as well but today there were none. At the heart of all the noise was the conductor, stood tall on advertising boards behind the goal. Selected for being such a hardcore fan his job was to face the crowd and keep them going, such a hardcore fan this meant he missed most if not all of the game.
The match itself was awful, Zbrojovka Brno came closest with a goalmouth scramble from a corner which resulted in an overhead kick clearing the bar. Other than that chance the only way to describe the action is by comparing it to a game of fifa between 7 year olds. The only available options seemed to be cross when you meant to shoot, shoot when you meant to cross or simply run in a straight line and hope your not tackled. Neither keeper had much to do other than gathering simple long balls and the game ended nil nil.
After taking in some of the sights of the city during the day I excitedly began to try and navigate my way to the ground. The number 22 tram took me there but with no information points nearby I took a leap of faith, it failed and 5 minutes later I was crossing the road and getting the same tram back in the other direction.
When I finally arrived at the right stop I instantly did what all football fans do when trying to find a new stadium, look for the floodlights. As I turned a corner on the street there it was looking back at me, the 7500 capacity stadium illuminated and ready for action. After a few failed conversations with very unhelpful and non English speaking stewards I managed to find my way to one of the gates for home fans.
There were 5 people queueing in front of me and the turnstiles were not yet open, I stood patiently and took in my surroundings. Firstly a police van pulled up on the side of the road with the blue lights flashing and 8 officers frantically ran into a dark park, whilst 2 kept watch by the entrance. Something, somewhere was going on. Shortly after this an ambulance pulled up and was let into the ground, nothing unusual in this but when it was followed by a fire engine I began to realise what I'd let myself in for.
After a short wait the turnstiles began to click and I was allowed to buy my ticket. A grand total of £6.50 got me entrance and a programme to what can only be describes as a food market. Behind the main stand was a concerted area with 6 stands selling everything from light refreshments to beer, which I later discovered you could also take into the ground with you.
My first action was to use the facilities and I was greeted with a urinal covered in bohemians ultras stickers, at this point I still had no idea if I would be sat amongst the crazed fan group or not, with kick off one hour away I didn't have long to wait.
To ensure I got the full experience I began to queue for a beer and food and when reaching the front was offered the choice of sausage or sausage. The choice was an easy one although the uniqueness in the presentation was obvious. On a paper plate I had, one extra long sausage, one small slice of bread and a dollop of mustard, a far cry from the straightforward pasty or Balti pie you would find at SJP. As a country renowned for its beer production the alcohol in the ground was a disappointment, similar to what you find at larger grounds in England it tasted like watered down mass produced rubbish. The plastic beer glasses were a feat of engineering brilliance however, on the side of each container was a clip, not to dissimilar to a belt clip, that allowed you to attach them together if you purchased more than one.
After finishing my food I walked into the main stand and looked around. The first thing that stood out was the end behind the goal, similar to Oxford there was no stand, the only difference being that they had replaced the wall with wiring to stop the ball disappearing out of the ground. Opposite me running the length of the pitch was a row of 3-5 seats spanning the entire touchline.
To the left of me was a larger seated stand behind the goal, I could tell that this is where the real fans had gathered and at kick off I was proved right. As the players came on the the pitch they were greeted with rapturous applause, flares, a sea of smoke and numerous streamers. It had started and the atmosphere was intense. As the smoke died down it revealed a large flag that had been raised with a masked figure, perhaps their calling card. Even the stewards were involved as they held up a banner the width of the pitch with writing on, unfortunately not being fluent in the local language I was unable to decipher it.
The atmosphere was impressive, with only 4108 fans in attendance it was louder than anything I have heard before from a fan base of that size, it was not only loud but relentless. 90 minutes of non stop singing to support their team, I would assume ordinarily it would be a war cry to the opposition fans as well but today there were none. At the heart of all the noise was the conductor, stood tall on advertising boards behind the goal. Selected for being such a hardcore fan his job was to face the crowd and keep them going, such a hardcore fan this meant he missed most if not all of the game.
The match itself was awful, Zbrojovka Brno came closest with a goalmouth scramble from a corner which resulted in an overhead kick clearing the bar. Other than that chance the only way to describe the action is by comparing it to a game of fifa between 7 year olds. The only available options seemed to be cross when you meant to shoot, shoot when you meant to cross or simply run in a straight line and hope your not tackled. Neither keeper had much to do other than gathering simple long balls and the game ended nil nil.
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