The Sofia Syndrome: Part I

Is it wrong to feel disappointed after the defeat last night? It is a testament to how far we have come, that there is that niggle that we gave away a sloppy goal. Sofia were probably value for the win, as they had the lions share of the possession and more of the chances, but we were far from routed. I think back to when I started travelling to Derry games in Europe when it was more a pre-season training camp than a realistic expectation to win a game, never mind a tie.

The game is very much in the balance for the second leg in the Brandywell and the side have a real chance to go and make history. All the travelling support would have taken a narrow defeat prior to the game yesterday and nothing we saw last night would overawe us for the return. The number 10 Todorov is a danger, the way he comes deep and brings others into the game. Lekonov, number 73, posed a few dangers down the flank but superb defensive work from City meant that CSKA were mostly restricted to long shots.

I don't want to go all “football was better in my day”, but some of the diving last night was absolutely ridiculous. I got all the Bulgarian papers this morning and there is one picture which perfectly illustrates it. One of the home side players has thrown himself in the air, while Clive and Higgins are several feet away from him. The Turkish referee produces a series of decisions which varied not from the sublime to ridiculous rather from the ridiculous to the absurd. There was one case where Derry cleared the ball up to Farren and he had his back to goal. He was completely manhandled off the ball and yet a free in was given. Bring back Stokes, all is forgiven. Well maybe not.

All it all though, it was a great trip. The results gives a fighting chance and when facing a side which on papers is seven times more successful than us, that is all we can ask for. I'd say there were only about forty Derry fans that travelling and the small group led to great camaraderie between the supporters. It was definitely an older crowd, with only a few of the “Youngertones” amongst us. Indeed less than ten of us had made our way to the game independently of the club charter. Kudos to me da, Danny, Brendy C, Matt, Macca, the Kealeys amongst others for their efforts in getting there. I know the turnaround/cost deterred a lot of people who had been in Riga. Having missed that one, there was no way I was missing this one.

We landed early Wednesday morning and the charter crowd had been well settled since Tuesday evening. The Radisson was on Parliament square and the hotel bar became base camp for the time there. We'd been in Sofia six weeks earlier for the Ireland game and therefore there wasn't much left on the cultural trail, so I spent most of my time in the environs of the hotel. The weather was superb for all our time there, and the terrace of the bar was constantly populated by the Derry support. There wasn't much mayhem, as it was an older crowd but there was a great vibe and great craic for the duration of the time there.

Me da had to head to the official reception on the Wednesday night and was suited and booted for the night. He got back decent gifts which is always a bonus from these things. Meanwhile, whilst he was away meeting the great and good we ended up having an impromptu with the head of the CSKA support. You know that someone with the nickname “Il Duce” must carry a bit of clout and this guy was no exception. Mentalist. His mates at the table weren't far behind and they were telling us that they plan to travel to Derry overland by bus. Good luck lads, wouldn't wish that trip on anyone. They were serious, with the tatoos to prove it. However I think we worked out the “Last of the Summer Wine SC” weren't looking for a rumble and we had a good nights craic with them.

The bar in the hotel closed about 12 and you were encouraged into resident's lounge, which was about 300% more expensive. However everyone still decamped there en masse on the Wednesday night, bar a few lads who decided to head to a strip club. Wallets significantly lighter, they beat a hasty retreat. The arrival of the Kealeys, bolstered by the entry of Matt and Macca about 12.30 kept the spirits high and we stayed on in the lounge until 4am.

Which is all great and good, until you remember that the person that are sharing a room with went to bed at midnight and is up to go for a walk at 7am. I'm not a morning person at the best of times and two nights in a row with 4 hours sleep was taking its tool. I managed to get up for 9am and down for breakfast. The biggest surprise there was the appearance of Jack “Dracula” McCauley and his consumption of 4 boiled eggs, a slice of melon and coffee. Obviously the secret of his phenomenal stamina.

Me da and I tried to visit the sports museum in the stadia on the morning of the game, but after a lot of “Niet” and a bit of shouty shouty we established that it was closed until 2 o'clock. Me da headed off to the Ethnography museum, whislt I opted to try and catch up on some of the sleep I had missed out in the last few days instead. Suitably refreshed, it was back to the terrace bar to shoot the breeze for another couple of hours. I was now starting to get nervous, as the game drew every closer. An appearance on Radio Foyle with Eric White helped to pass the time and as the day got warmer, the confidence began to grow. The eternally optimistic nature of the football fan kicked in and talk of away goals and score draws began to creep into people's match predictions. We knew nothing of the CSKA setup, but why would that stop us.

Those on the charter were leaving straight after the game so there were getting checked out of the hotel etc, while the rest of us were able to just kick back and enjoy the rays. At this stage I started to get really nervous. I just wanted the game to start, or even just for it to be over. Bizarre that you have travelled so far and spent a small fortune and next thing you just want the match to be over. The players left for the stadium about six or so, as we cheered them off. This was really the first outbreak of noise on the trip and the adrenalin was flowing.

WE were bussed to the stadium at 7, and after a farcical ticketing issue we were finally in the stadium whilst the players were still warming up. We were at the opposition end from where we were for the Ireland game and it really emphasised how few had made the trip. We were in a section which could held 4,000 and there were about forty of us. However lack of numbers never got Derry men down and we launched into the Brandywell songbook. Next up was the European Conga round our section of the ground. It was at this point we realise that the folks at home must have discovered an internet stream, as the text message began to poor in. The general sentiment of them was summed up in the one which read “McDaid, state of your dancing. Shape of ye.”. The home crowd began to make their way into the ground and the place began to bounce. The ultras in the southern stand began to make some serious noise. We merely waited for a lull and then launched into the chants of our own.

Game on. The first ten minutes seemed to take an eternity and I could already feel that my heart rate would be fairly high for the duration. The European Conga pre match didn't help mind. After the first ten the team settled and bar one chance, City mostly kept CSKA to long shouts. Indeed we had a few half chances of our own with Stewart and another header wide. The texts from home seemed to indicate that the general thoughts that we were doing alright. Talk turned to ensures we remained hydrated and the risk of fatigue in the second half. This was the support we were talking about, not the players.

The second half followed the same pattern. We were very ropey in the first ten and then settled and seemed to be frustrating them. However the diving continued unabated and you got see it was starting to really frustrated some of Derry players, Deery in particular. CSKA threw on a few subs and half way through the second half we were still level. And then, just when you dared to believe, they scored. Derry had just made a sub and I think were unsettled by it. The ball broke to Lenokov at the edge of the box and to be fair, he caught it absolutely superbly. Doherty, a hero for the 90 minutes, didn't have a chance with it.

Derry still a chance of their own, with a goal mouth scramble and also Farren skying it from 18 yards when he really should have hit the target. At this stage the talk was of keeping it to 1-0 and despite a few late scares it finished up 1-0. The throats, destroyed at this stage, were roused into one final effort to salute the efforts of the players. We trooped back on to the bus and back to the hotel. All the supporters had to come back, as a few of the journalists had to file stories via the hotel internet.

The supporters departed for the charter flight home, while the Independent Brigade once more took up residence in the hotel bar for one last hurrah. We celebrated the performance, the celebrated the Pats results, we celebrate European football in general. Whilst a few of the older head sloped off to bed, the rest of us continued down into the City centre. Refused entry into a karoake bar, despite Matt's best efforts at bribery, we found and open air bar and stayed there until 3 or so. My flight was at 9am this morning, so I called it a night at that stage and headed back to the hotel.

Roll on Thursday, where we have history at our fingertips. We need a massive performance on and off the pitch and we need to blitz the town into Europa League fever just like the summer of 2006.