European Tour match report.

For you Horc! It was a great night. Just like watching Wigan! But Donny – it is unashamed drivel!! I’ve tried posting it as an attachment – with photos – but haven’t succeeded.

‘Tics on another European Tour.
Poprad v Bratislava. League 2. Slovakia.
From the air we Wizz-ed past the Poprad stadium and it looked just like the DW. Well it had 4 sides.

Kick off was 90 minutes after landing. There was no time for the superstitious Slovakian equivalent of chips, mushy peas and a pre-match pint. I always fear dehydration.
I sort of thought it would be easy to find the ground – just do as one usually does – follow the crowd, but it wasn’t as easy as that.
All 14 of the Bratislava away fans were supervised by 1 steward. The Poprad cop of 23 pumped out a good rhythm with the help of drummer boy and his brother. West Stand, as you’d expect, were politely in their seats before ko. All 237 of us.

Tickets 3 Euros, but half price for women, children and over 62-year olds. Imagine the crowd size if they had to pay £20.

Security was tighter than at the airport. I wasnt allowed to take my empty plastic WAFC water bottle in with me. Despite my protestations I simply had no option but to leave it beside the turnstile. Despite its inherent value I was assured it would still be there at the end of the game. Of course, it was. Who are Wigan?
In blue and a bit of white the mighty Poprad paraded onto the pitch. Bratislava in Wigan’s away yellow waved to their loyal fans. I laughed. It was like watching Wigan in stereo and listening to them with double vision.
The ref was very good until Dan Burn, playing in yellow and as centre forward went up for a Morsy like header. Heads clashed and what a crack of a sound that made. Dan was felled like a like Norwegian spruce and lay there, possibly dead; probably with a skull fracture and definite concussion. On came Dr Zahid. Sponge, ice pack, voltarol spray. Then persuade him to stand up, which he did and staggered and then fell over again. The diagnosis was made, and the stretcher was brought on. Just as at Reading when McDonald had his leg broken – no one carded, and no one sent off. The refs hate Wigan.

A Reece James cross wizzed across the defence and as if I was at Wembley watching the mighty ‘Tics against Millwall, Shaun ‘JANCO’ Maloney ran in to slot the ball in, on the volley.

Bratislava in Wigan yellow had an attack. Chritian Malec Walton went in for the ball, a lunging slide of a grasp. And doesn’t get up. On comes the physio with ice, spray and water. From the stands runs a loyal Bratislava fan towards the treatment area and throws his glass of water over them. With no sense of fear the steward struggles to identify the culprit amongst the crowd; he’s evicted. Now there were 13. Drummer boy beats out the rhythm of delight.
Play resumes and on the quick counter again Micheal ‘Malec’ Jacobs dinks, dodges and jinxes his way through the defence to put a cross in for the oncoming Matas Grigg. In it goes. Easy as scoring against Man City. 2 – 0.

The ref is looking despondent; one of the Wigan teams is winning. With 3 minutes of extra time declared I leave to meet Mrs GG who has been drinking wine and garlic soup in a local hostelry. I’m happy that Wigan won. What?? 1 minute on the clock and he awards a penalty to the Wigan team in yellow. The refs hate us. That ever-familiar late goal. I could be watching at Carrow Road, except there isn’t a mountain in sight there.