Inter Milan (N) | Champions League Final | Post Match Thread

Just packing and getting ready to leave Istanbul. Gutted we'll be missing the parade that will start as we get to the airport.

I'd like to share some memories that will live with me forever. Some good, some bad. This will be lengthy but give a fans perspective of the trip and match days events, through my eyes at least.

Having had our accommodation just off Taxim Square cancel on us on the Wednesday with a bullshit excuse of credit card failure we had rebooked an alternative near Serkici in a pleasant but dated Ottoman style hotel where the staff were friendly and helpful. We arrived Friday night, late, via the Haverbus from SAW, at Taxim Square. (Thanks Mooners for the tip) Not knowing where any transport hubs were or how long a walk might be, also not quite aware of the money exchange, we agreed a taxi fare of 480 TL (£20). We were later told by the hotel staff it should have been no more than 150 TL (£5) and that taxi drivers were "bad people". Not an auspicious start.

We arrived tired and weary and decided a load of beer wasnt what was required. Certainly didnt want to start matchday with a hangover. Those near Taxim on Navizda Street had decided otherwise but mostly seemed to be 20 years our junior on the video i had received off the TV from relatives keeping a beady eye out for my ugly mug! We popped out for a couple of shandies and chatted to a few blues and were serenaded by some Inter fans who went through their repetoir. "Eeeenter, Eeeenter". Had a good chat with a family later on and discussed players and tactics, they said they feared De Bruyne and I said Barella was their danger man. No malice, no aggro, nice people and decent fans, we parted with a handshake and wished each other luck. It appears this was commonplace across the whole of Istanbul and both sets of fans have been a credit to their clubs and country.

Much refreshed me and my oppo, donned in our new city strip tops, lathered up in factor 50, shades on and set off, with a plan in mind with times to be in certain places so we arrived at the ground in plenty of time.

Like to give props to some blues. Firstly Luke R. from Melbourne who we bumped into at the tram stop at Sirkirchi after being told to fuckoff from Marmmary subway Station after trying to use our free transport Champion League passes, as instructed by the CL app) to get the CL Festival at Yanakipi. At that point we werent sure what transport to use ir where to catch it from, despite some broken English advice from some locals. Luke appezted out of the crowd resplendant in City kit top and confirmed we were in the right place but be wary which tram to get on.

What a sound fella and we chatted about cricket and City in Oz as we caught the tram whose station layout confirmed Yanakipi was the last stop en route about 5-6 km away. We laughed and discussed big knives and Donks from Crocodile Dundee. We got off and walked about 20 mins down a straight road, crossed over via a temporary bridge, past the ferry boats moored up on our left and on to the Yanakipi CL festival. Yippee we were on our way. Little did we realise it would go tits up fast. It was now 1430.

We fancied having a photo with old big ears as the queue was only small but were informed "no more" as it was now off to the stadium. The rest of the stalls and shows were for football tourists and kids so we headed to the bar area off to the left for liquid refreshment. There was seemingly a queue to get in and the security lads told us "full up". We waited as the queue shrunk slowly and we realised this was the queue for the bar. Eventually in we went, serenaded in the queue by a group of twenty somethings from Buxton who were already pissed and because we were desperate for our first beer and not joining in were informed we were "boring". Well young man I too once used to get pissed early doors and barely remember the day. Think of it as a right of passage to enlightenment.

Another UEFA shit show of a 45 minute wait to be served whilst most of the staff employed poored beer from bottles into plastic pots. We doubled up at 160 TL a pint.

To Damian and Jo from Swinton who joined us at the beer bar in Yanakipi.
Together like the famous five (only short of Timmy the dog) at 4pm we all said fuck that to the +3 hour queue already formed and baking in the sun for the free transport to the fan park at the ground. We could clearly see the carnage that was already building and would ensue, obvious to all but UEFA that is.

After grabbing a quick tinny at the cafe (cheers Luke) outside the park on the corner, we decided we were going to have to use alternate transport or risk not making it to the ground without a bank loan.

Thanks to Jo using a taxi app (Turkish Uber) Firstly 500 TL that quickly changed to $250 when those greedy fucking taxi drivers realised they were going to make a killing. It seemed to be dawning on everyone that this was going to be a shitshow and the yellow taxis were being hailed. We grabbed one sharpish thinking shit we need 2 for 5 bodies. Nah 2 in the front no bother for 2000 TL (£80). We decided together another half an hour and it would be double that or more. Best part of valour and all that.

Now if nobody has been in a yellow Turkish taxi before imagine a mixture of F1, touring cars and the dodgems with a driver who is last of the "late brakers" whilst smoking, changing his prefered music and constantly honking the horn and abusing other road users, just to give you a flavour. The traffic was already horrendous and Including a Heineken induced wee wee stop we arrived at a gridlocked area 1hr 20 later, where we got out about a mile walk from the ground. The driver decided the journey was worth another 1000 TL on top of the agreed price but was roundly fucked off by all.

Lots of fans had decided on the same abandon vehicle policy and walk the rest of the way as we could now see the stadium. We arrived in a large, mostly empty car park area, unmanned, about half a mile from the actual stadium, parched and needing a ladies rest room. A big old queue for 1 mobile toilet had to suffice. Some seemingly officials turned out to be British Police officers to whom we gave our version of the shitshow unfolding at Yanakipi. "We know" was all they kept saying. They directed us to the fan park out of the back of the car park. It was 17.45.

The fan park turned out to be a further half mile or so through the car park and up a long winding hill road, but we were encouraged by the sounds of blues singing our favourite ditties ringing through the tree line to our right. A quick right turn and a gathering of forlorn souls gathered in the area in front of the security barricade to the actual City fan park, the ticket less!

A flash of the UEFA app with ticket displayed to the seemingly 14 year old security and we were in. Huge area with 3 bars, a stage far in front on which big Steve (City U tuber) was busy talking to Andy Morrison and whipping up the atmosphere. €7 for half a litre of cold rat piss seemed about what I was expecting with an equally exorbitant food counter to which it seemed the queue had no end. No matter, got served straight away and started to chill out and enjoy the atmosphere.

A few beers later and an initial recce by Luke failed to find the actual piss stones, there was no signage, no stewards staff but an improptu fenceline sufficed. A few pints later i found the caravan piss trailers far away to my left, ladies on the left gents on the right. Bonus was bumping into the SC holders next to me from the Etihad. Big up to Damian and his Mrs, Emma, Archie and his mate. Who'd have thought it, they were in that same block and seats as us 3 rows behind. The plan was to go to the ground at 2000 but UEFA managed for the bar to run out at 1900. By this time the park was full and rocking. Another bar proved successful as we got a beer just before they ran out too.

Seemingly the back gates opened and a groundswell moved to the stadium which we joined. Desperate for another toilet break we bade our farewells to Luke, Damian and Jo as we each headed towards our entrances. Entrance P it said on our tickets. Another long queue for a piss in 3 portal potties which were full! Unlucky ladies would have been hovering big time.

So up to the nearest entrance point which proved to be 'R' in large capital letters. Some Turkish Police officers parked on the forecourts directed and forced us left towards the next Entrance which turned out to be "S". So yes a trip right around the ground past the Inter end through millions of Inter fans and multitudes of tourists.

Then a strange event, a small break in the crowds following an area where we were channelled through a ridiculously small gap in a fenceline. A familiar face pushed forward and a brief moment of recognition as I caught sight of the TalkSport logo. Crooky introduced himself and asked would I do an interview for TalkSport. My oppo then recognised him with a complimentary greeting if "you're that red twat off the radio". Now I know he's a red but I've never heard him particularly slate City, plenty of pro rag stuff but not a hater. Had it been Simon Jordan I'd of told him to do one in no uncertain terms. We tried an interview about 3 times because we were interrupted by Iner fans chanting "We hate Citeee" constantly behind us. Nothing malicious though. Bit of a blur really can't remember what was said particularly, they seemed happy with it and we shook hands and went on our way. Heard the following day my brothers mate (Evertonian) heard it and texted him recognising my name and voice. Fame at last, not!

Arrived at "P" eventually and the ticket authorisation and entry was well organised and worked. Tight squeeze through the turnstiles, no chance of jibbing in through those. Made my way to the seat and there we were, now under the burgeoning stars, as the sun set with no roof. It seemed most of the Inter fans were already in. They've seen UEFA shit shows before I thought and they had the Metro as transport up there. I only learned later many blues used it in desperation and fortunately both sets of fans behaved impeccably.

The atmosphere built as fans came in but the stadium is huge with massive distance to the fans from the goals due to the fact its an athletic stadium and both ends are open. It was still loud and proud from our packed end, with Inter reciprocating from their end. Invariably the TV doesn't do it justice at all from the clips I've seen since.

I won't cover the match, everyone's seen it. I felt a little nervous at half time as we hadn't been ourselves and Inter had defended well by pressing relentlessly, although they created absolutely nothing. I said confidently they couldn't do that for 90 minutes, although they gave it a go. The goal created a massive outpouring (See what I did there) of relief, joy, delirium all at once and it was loud, with limbs, as they say.

At full time I felt absolutely drained, emotionally spent and pondered a while of our journey to this point and how much I'd wanted this for David Silva and Sergio and Vinny. I think the enormity of the achievement is yet to sink in. I welled a little seeing Erling so emotional on the big screen but caught myself in time.

After the celebrations, the realisation we were miles from anywhere and 25k blues all wanted to make the same journey down one road. The lack of organisation for the dispersal of fans at this point surprised nobody. They really are a shit organisation. It was a mad free for all to get on the free transport back to Yanakipi or the Airport, wherever you needed to go. No directions, no stewarding, nothing, just a seething mass of fans following one another. Yet another shitshow. 30 minutes of scrambling from bus to bus until we found one with any room. Some elderly folks were clearly desperate for assistance that was none existent. The coppers corralled people and stopped any movement for various convoys of VIPs to escape, while people sweated, stood up on the buses for an hour and more not moving in a queue of traffic miles long. Sometimes slowly edging forward a few hundred meters then stopping again. To some it seemed there were no buses left and they began walking. Several were seen being picked up by buses on the route. It didn't matter if they were City or Inter fans. Back to Yanakipi, eventually. I think our bus driver was drafted from the yellow cab rank and drove similarly whilst playing the Haaland song over and over and over. It was 0236.

Blistered feet re stepped the route to the tram stop, past the now closed cafe on the corner although a shish cafe next door was blaring out some traditional Turkish tunes. Asked a copper who confirmed the trams were no longer running. Thanks UEFA you liars.

A taxi appeared as if by magic as a godsend who agreed an £8 trip back to our hotel retracing the 5-6km tram trip earlier.

We approached the hotel and the bar opposite was playing the highlights of the game. We were gagging (no drink for 7 1/2 hours). Was a bit peckish so ordered a spicy kebab and a couple of bottles of very cold water, which went down very well. I was feeling dehydrated at this point and defo a bit hungover.

We watched Gundo lift the Cup and the celebrations following. Ballbagged we crossed the road to the hotel and ended what was a mementous day for blues everywhere. It was 4am, 16 hours after we left. I laughed to myself at the thought of the 18-30's blues hitting Navizda Street for some more action as the sun was coming up. What a day!
 
I never thought I would say anything positive about old bacon face, but he did send Pep a good luck message before the game, and invented the terms “squeaky bum time” and “noisy neighbours”. The former was certainly true on Saturday night but a quick dose of Gaviscon thanks to Rodri and Eddie/Ruben sorted that one out and now the noisy neighbours are back in Salford docks where they belong.
 
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