21 Nov 2012

Finally, some excitement in our lives!  We went to a professional soccer game last night.  It was a very unique experience.

Nathanael put us onto the fact that Barcelona was coming to Moscow to play a Champion's League game.  Barcelona is a great team and has one of the two best players in the world, Lionel Messi.

So we got some help from one of the young men in the office and bought some tickets fro $75 apiece and got ready for the game.  I had Goggled the location, time, something about the opponent (Spartac Moscow), the right Metro stop, etc.

We have seen the stadium several times from the hill south, and above it.  The hill is where Napoleon overlooked Moscow in 1812 and where the huge Stalin-era building sits on the Moscow State University campus.

My internet research had taught me that the game was to start at 1800 (6:00 p.m. for us Americans.)  We needed to eat before the game so that gave me an excuse to head for a McDonald's on the way to the stadium, so I located the nearest Metro stop with one close to the stadium.  I wanted to be plenty early at the stadium because I wanted to soak in the experience.  It will almost certainly never happen again in this lifetime.

So we left work at 3:00 thinking that we would go to the flat, change into some warm cloths, hit the Metro, get to McDonald's about 4:00, eat and finish the ride to the stadium at about 5:00--giving us an hour to spare.  Everything went swimmingly until we got off the Metro stop and started walking the half mile, or so, to the stadium.  There was hardly anyone around except police and soldiers.  This is strange, I thought.  Even in Moscow soccer fans would know about Barcelona and want to come and see Messi play.

So I checked the tickets and sure enough the date was right, November 20.  We went up to the stadium and walked right in, past the turnstiles, etc.  I thought, again, this just can't be right.  They can't have all of these soldiers around and just let any doofus walk into the stadium.  So I got the tickets out again and noticed, for the first time, that the start was set for 2100, not 1800, as my 'research' had discovered.  (Maybe start time was 1800 in Barcelona?)

Anyway, we had four hours to kill, and it was colder than a well-digger's behind!  Duh!  I felt about as stupid as a liberal must feel every day.  Ridiculous!  I am going to have to retire I guess.

Well, we killed 2.5 hours and then went looking for our seats.  Here are some pics and some commentary.

The is inside the Metro stop.  For you who visited, this is the one that sits above the Moscow River.  It is quite a lovely station and has some striking sports memorabilia throughout.

Here is some hockey stuff.

You can see the Metro stop behind Marlene.  Doesn't she smile nicely?

We are walking beside the 1980 Olympic swimming pool on our way to the stadium.

It holds about 90 or 100 thousand folks.  Pretty impressive except for the open roof.

That hill and building in the background are those things I mentioned earlier. Our Utah visitors have seen booth sights and looked down on the stadium from Sparrow Hill.

This is what you get when you are four hours early--the place to yourself.

This is the east end of the stadium and pretty close to where our (useless) seats were located.
We, and everyone else stood for the whole game.

Right side.

Left side.  We had soldiers about every five feet.  That helped Marlene's confidence--not.

The little yellow canvas thing in the center of the picture is where the players came on and off the field.

The hole in the roof.

Troops marching for the heck of it.

Mr. Lenin.  I guess he is not in that mausoleum on Red Square after all.

Another example of the 'midget-scale."

Whew!  We were able to find our seats and lucky us, we only have another hour and a half to wait.

See the soldiers standing among the seats  to Marlene's left?  They are just kids, of course, but they were everywhere.

The jumbo screen on our end of the field.

You can't tell it, but those are the team logos:  Spartac (Spartacus) on the left and Barcelona on the right.

I am wearing my newly purchased Spartac scarf just to make sure the locals know I am a loyal fan.

We had a funny thing happen to us as we approached the (now-manned) turn styles.  We got near the front of the line and a nice looking couple off to the side and out of the entry line was calling to us. The ticket taker somehow communicated to us that this couple wanted to talk to us.  Since there was no press of people to get into the stadium we got out of line and went over to see what they wanted.  They started jabbering to us in Spanish, asking if we were Barcelona fans.  I know a little Spanish of course, so I was able to tell them Nyet.

We puzzled over why they would think we were Spanish and I think tonight Marlene has just hit on the answer.  We saw not one other babushka in the stadium.  The people who wanted to talk to us must have thought, "No sane Russian babushka would come to a soccer game.  That lady, therefore, must be a Barcelona fan, and therefore Spanish."

That was funny.

Here are some Spartac players warming up.  We were on their end of the pitch for the first half and about 50 meters from the field.

They watered the whole field prior to the came.

We wondered, when it was 90 minutes before the game and no one but us was in the stadium, if we would have any company.  They filled the joint.

The UEFA emblem has been brought to the center of the field.

The Spartac mascot.

Everyone's seat had a piece of plastic wrap on it.  The colors were different depending on the seat.

The full crowd on the other end of the field is holding their plastic sheets up, spelling Spartac Moskva.  Pretty cool, eh?

The teams are walking onto the pitch, with the children along side, as they always are.

The camera is panning down the line of players.

You can see the plastic thingees being held up by the fans on our end.

Getting warmed up and ready to start.

Messi is number 10.

Some of the Spanish players are quite small. 

Much of the first half of the game was played in our end.  Barcelona dominated in ball possession, which is almost always how they play.

They just press forward slowly, slowly, until they get an opening and then they pounce.

Messi just hangs around in the center of the field waiting to take charge.  On the other hand the Spanish can hurt you with any of their players.

Getting ready for a corner kick.

Spartac played okay.  They have some skilled players, but not as skilled as the Spanish.  Barcelona pressed them constantly and they could not hold the ball.

Spartac would occasionally get a break toward the Barcelona en but the Spanish were more than equal to defending their goal.

Here is the half time score, and the final score.

Messi's goals were not works of art, but they did not have to be.  I got the impression that he is an assassin.  He just waits for his chances and then he kills you.  And he has got so much help that the opposition cannot focus on him.

I'm sure he can dribble in a phone booth and is as quick as a cat.

The half time show.  I think they are either the Courgettes, or more likely, the U. of U. ettes.

It got really crowded once the game started.  The aisles were full of fans, everyone was standing.  Half of the people were smoking.  It got pretty uncomfortable for us--cold and lots of smoke.  We left with about 15 minutes left in the game and with the Spanish just holding the ball, running out the clock.

It was a great experience.  Thank you, Nathanael.

We hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving.  Love America and love your families.