UEFA Cup: Shakhtar Donetsk 2-0 Tottenham Hotspur

[funster]

A week on from the game in the Ukraine, and as we get set for..... well, who knows? Could be anything tonight. Thought I'd better get my arse in gear and actually post a match report from last week. Probably just as well that I've left it for a bit, because had I posted it when I got back there probably wouldn't have been too much to read with all the ***** that would've been substituted!

Anyway, let's sum up what was a great trip.....

Following Spurs in Europe is a fantastic thing. The first time I went away in Europe was in Seville a couple of years ago. After that I just had the taste for it. Prague, Eindhoven, Krakow, Udine..... all great trips, but its when you get drawn against the likes of Shakhtar Donetsk that you think - "Man, these opportunities don't come around too often". There was no way I was going to miss this trip!

Getting to Donetsk is not easy. I mean, there are plenty of ways you can get there, and I heard a fair few stories while we were sinking pints, but it ain't cheap! I like to do these trips off my own back rather than through the club - just as well in this instance considering Thomas Cook jacked in their travel package because of "lack of interest". However, the cost of flights was just too much so we opted for the Sport Options trip that gave us a night in the Ukraine and a cost that was bearable.

I knew a fair few others that we regularly meet while away in Europe were going on this trip, so chances were it would be a good one, even if the flight was the best part of four hours.

Sadly build-up to the game wasn't exactly inspiring. Normally you're buzzing before going on a European trip, especially to somewhere new. This time, the general malaise that surrounds the UEFA Cup campaign significantly dampened spirits as far as expectations of the game went. A shame, as I doubt we'll often get a trip to such an 'exotic' location. Actually, scratch that..... I doubt we'll get any European trips again for some time!

Anyway, with the ridiculously early 6am departure from Stansted there was no option but to roll up to the Holiday Inn at the airport and stay overnight, just as we'd done for the trip to Udine. It was going to be a dead early start, but three pints before bedtime were still sunk!

Check-in wasn't especially busy. The Sport Options staff were on hand to meet'n'greet and dished out a commemorative pin badge. Very nice. Except I reckon it was a duff batch that the manufacturers had dished out on the cheap. Decide for yourself!

Even at 5am my sister couldn't resist having a look in the shops once we got airside. Daft. I don't understand this fixation that women have with shopping. Especially as Duty Free is more expensive these days than ordering online, even when you factor in the cost of shipping stuff from Hong Kong!

When we pitched up to the gate it looked like the flight was going to be pretty full. We bumped into a couple of our regular 'partners in crime', Rob and Terry, and got ourselves settled in for the long flight to Donetsk. One of the good things about the Sport Options trip was that it was direct to Donetsk rather than via Kiev as a couple of others we normally go with were having to do.

With about an hour-and-a-half running time to go, and having polished off what was a very half-arsed hot breakfast, I cracked on with the first of many drinks and splashed out on a couple of G'n'T's. Ah..... nothing like it. The Mods will know that I am rather partial to the odd glass or two of Mother's Ruin.

Suitably lubricated, we touched down, and despite the signs of frozen lakes and snow, found it wasn't as cold as we'd expected. Weather reports we'd seen before we flew out suggested -5c/-6c/-7c, and colder with the wind, but in the sun, it wasn't all that bad at all.

Immigration took ages. I don't think Donetsk airport is exactly set up to handle large groups of people arriving at once. No hassles though. A few people snuck out for a cheeky ciggy, and the atmosphere was always good natured.

The remnants of the Soviet era still abound. You see them as soon as you arrive and get on the road, as we did on one of the coaches that had been laid on for us. The public transport there is strange. It looked like they had four types of buses. One set that were pretty modern, the sort you'd expect in most places these days. One set were like those electric buses that run around in San Francisco getting their power from overhead lines. One set were, well, converted Transit vans, and the final set? Well, they were the ones that made it absolutely clear you were in a place that had been part of the Soviet Union for a long while! Wouldn't fancy chancing my arm with one of those.

Donetsk airport after clearing immigration


The trip from the airport to the hotel was quite an eye opener. We were accompanied by Jacqui Oatley on our bus. Well, I think it was Jacqui Oatley anyway. The first female presenter on MOTD. Leaving aside all the vested interest of whether you like her commentary or not, she is not bad looking at all!

Having said that, the real eye opener, as is so often the case in Eastern Europe are the birds. I hadn't really known what to expect in Donetsk. Its a bit of an industrial town, so maybe the quality wouldn't be as high as you'd expect in places like Moscow, for example. Well, let me tell you, it was pretty bloody good! The best comment came from a lad at the back of our coach as we went past a bus stop:

"Bloody hell! You wouldn't get a bus stop like that in Slough!"

How right he was, and there was plenty more of that to come.

Sadly, the quality of 'sights' was not matched by the apparent quality of our hotel. Sport Options had booked us into the Hotel Liverpool - kind of a slap in the face for a Spurs fan (mind you, wonder what United supporters think if they ever have to stay there!) - and it looked..... erm..... not that great. It turned out to be a hotel, restaurant, bar and club all in one, although spread over a couple of buildings. Not the worst place I've stayed, but pretty close. After having to wait ages to check-in - to be expected as reception, much like immigration at the airport, wasn't really set up to deal with such large numbers - we ditched out kit in the room, which reminded me of a youth hostel, and got ourselves down to the bar.

One of the few 'nice' buildings in Donetsk


Most of the rest of the day was spent in assorted boozers. After sinking a few drinks we headed off to meet a couple of other mates - John and Pete - who'd made their own way to Donetsk via Kiev the previous day. They'd also been boozing at the expense of Loaded magazine in Kiev the previous day! Not that that saved much cash - the Ukraine is rather cheap. A round of four beers came to the princely sum of £1.50. Mind you, the beer was pretty shabby.

John and Pete had positioned themselves in the Golden Lion, the ubiquitous Irish pub, and that's where we headed. En route we bumped in a load of the Donetsk youth. Nice fellas. Bit like the chavs who stand around in public parks drinking cider out of a plastic bottle.

"**** off you ****ing Jews!"

Classy, and as Terry stated, clearly very intelligent considering two of the group were Indian! It seemed harmless enough for the time being.

We spent blimmin' ages at The Golden Lion. Lost count of how many beers we had. It was at least in part down to waiting on food, which took an age to arrive. Scampi and chips turned out to be butterflied prawns on pasta. At least the chicken kebab was actually chicken!

Topics of conversation were wide and varied. Some Spurs related, some not. We reminisced on previous forays into Europe..... ah, the good times! Some film crew or other turned up and interviewed a load of supporters in the pub. There was the usual sing song.

A lot of the conversation was about the club's outlook towards Europe this season. More specifically, Harry Redknapp's outlook.

Its well documented, and my views are very public. I don't like it and it smacks of 'small club mentality'. That, though, was just one of a number of things that clearly irritated a lot of the Spurs supporters out there about Redknapp.

The fact that he can't keep his thoughts about players to himself - whether they're Spurs players or otherwise.

The fact that he constantly talks about having had two points from eight games.

The fact that he seems to sometimes totally lose the plot and look clueless on the side of the pitch.

This isn't meant to be a Redknapp rant, but it needs to be aired. I was surprised really. Surprised that so many of the travelling faithful (and I certainly don't claim to have spoken with them all), felt that way. Certainly some had far more vitriol than me.

The consensus, unsurprisingly, was that Levy had royally ****ed up sacking Martin Jol, and that we'd have him back in a flash. Shame that'll not happen until the current owners move on.

Right, that was the depressing bit. There'll be more when we talk about the game, but let's indulge a bit in the meantime!

Having been suitably fed and watered, we all assumed everybody else had paid, only for one of our number to be collared as we walked out. Oops! Payment provided we decided some more scram was required - the scampi and chips didn't really cut it - and headed for the Golden Arches.

Most intersting thing there - the girls. Oh man. The clientele in that place was stunning. Clearly the sort of place that the youngsters of Donetsk frequent. How some of them could get away with calling what they were wearing skirts I don't know! Another common theme - they all wore boots. Mmmmm..... boots. Errrrr..... sorry, better get back on track!

From there we headed back to the Hotel Liverpool and the nightclub. En route the rather intriguing sight of somewhere that purported to offer a bowling alley, bar and..... strip club. If my sister hadn't been there I dare say we'd have blown a few quid in there, but as it was, we pitched up at the nightclub, which was near enough empty.

Limbering up on the dancefloor


Early doors though. Beers aplenty accompanied by what was actually totally crap music. We asked and asked and asked, but no joy getting it changed. Ultimately we had to make our own entertainment early in the evening. That plus a screening of the Villa-CSKA game, in which CSKA looked a very good side.

The club filled up as the evening wore on, and there a fair few nice looking ladies too. Recurring theme this, isn't it? One of them even got chatting to one of our merry band, and despite giving him her number (which he proceeded to lose!), she seemed more interested in some Turkish bloke that was chatting her up!

More excited than they should be


After a pretty poor start in the club, the music improved, the drinks flowed - despite the very poor quality of beer - and I even snuck in a cigar. Which I wished I hadn't the next morning.

Making your own music


Eventually I fell into bed at about 3am, and somehow managed to wake from my slumber before the midday checkout. Although I didn't enjoy getting out of bed that early, and in hindsight, wished I'd lashed out the extra £15 for a day room!

We had a wander down to the stadium - a five minute walk away - then ate some lunch and headed back down to The Golden Lion. More beers followed, although in much lesser quantity than the previous day, and the crowd in the pub got bigger as the evening wore on.

The stadium and a statue of Sergey Bubka


Match posters plastered around town


More ex-Soviet hardware


Statue of Lenin


Originally we'd intended to get our bags, load them onto the coach, grab a bite to eat and wander down to the stadium. No chance.

It sounded like it was beginning to get a bit tasty outside the pub already, although we didn't encounter any problems ourselves when walking back to the hotel. However, the massed ranks of security and police outside the hotel indicated that trouble was expected, and sure enough, as we wandered back in it kicked off.

Some numpty Donetsk fan walked over and gave it the '****er' signs. Cue a rush of Spurs fans towards him. No great shakes though. The atmosphere was a bit edgy, but the trouble was limited. I did hear stories of a molatov thrown towards the hotel, but didn't actually see it myself.

We hunkered down in the hotel for a while, waiting for it to die down before we got on the coaches. So much for the idea of grabbing a bite to eat before walking to the stadium. Absolutely no point in chancing your arm in the dark, even if it was only a five minute walk.

My guess is that the fact our departure time from the hotel was widely advertised didn't really help. Plastering signs around the lobby saying "Coaches depart 1915" was like a message to any Donetsk fan who fancied their chances. I heard there were a few of the Spurs supporters who weren't so fortunate to avoid the trouble. Nasty business.

As the coaches made their way to the ground we passed groups of five or ten Donetsk fans milling around on street corners. Menacingly in some cases, less so in others. Coach to the ground was the right option from where we were staying.

Eventually we were herded down towards our entrance. A hole in the wall by the look of things. As is customary at European ties, policing appears a bit over the top, but it was still subdued compared to, for example, Krakow.

Bizarrely, while cigs, lighters and all sorts were confiscated on the way in, nobody actually checked our tickets! You could've walked into the ground with no ticket at all. Odd.

Also odd was the fact that while we had a section of our own, you could walk all the way 'round the back of the stadium with no segregation at all. As we wandered off to tip the ferryman, grab a coffee and the delicious (I jest) vacuum-packed, microwaveable pizza, we found ourselves amongst a load of Donetsk fans, also wandering around. Never seen anything like it before in my life. Like I said, no form of segregation, but also, thankfully, no trouble.

Match scoreboard


We settled in for what looked likely be a cold night. Having heard about all the players left back home, it wasn't exactly like we were expecting a great deal. In fact, the expectation was that we'd probably only be playing for a draw. The less charitable were in little doubt that Redknapp would be quite happy to see us knocked out of the UEFA Cup.....

Big Shakhtar banner and the stadium


So, to the game.....

It didn't disappoint. We were not very good at all.

Almost all the chances were going to Donetsk in the first half. Poor defending from the left led to a shot on a loose ball. Then two chances from the right. After the first one we were treated to one of the most shambolic dives I think I've seen. Miles worse than that one in Seville! The ref gave a free kick just outside the box. The second of those chances on the right arose when we got done by a ball over the top. That was something that was going to repeat itself often.

Of all the players out there, Huddlestone looked absolutely awful. Now, I have really lost a lot of faith in the lad this season, but to have him playing centre half can't have helped matters. He's not exactly agile, let's face it, and he was just too slow to make up ground, and too lethargic in getting the ball away when he did have it. Poor selection I think.

The chances for Donetsk kept coming. OK, not exactly clear cut, last ditch clearance stuff, but we looked a mess when they came forward. No cohesion, no plan.

Thanks heavens for Michael Dawson. Amongst another woeful team performance he was the standout. Throughout the game he made numerous blocks, and it needed a really good one to prevent another chance from the right.

Finally we did manage to break, and even got a decent cross in. Sadly there was no inclination for anybody to get back and defend and it left acres of space for Shakhtar to break. Huddlestone then gifted them the ball on the left side with an awful touch, and Dawson was called into action again to block.

Their best move of the first half came from what I thought was a superbly weighted diagonal ball over the top that caught Chimbonda totally unaware. Possibly not surprising since he was playing on the wrong bloody side! It was a lovely ball though. Just as well for us that the shot was wild.

Our best move of the half had to wait until Dawson yet again had to save Huddlestone's blushes. When it did come though it was neat passing on the left and although Dos Santos fired a stinging shot, he hit it into the side netting.

It looked like that might get us to pull ourselves into the game a bit more. A free kick from a dangerous position followed, but Bentley succeeded only in hitting it stratight at the keeper. For some reason the ref didn't like what he saw and had it retaken. It was even worse - straight into the wall.

Of course, the Spurs pressure didn't last long. Shakhtar had acres of space, and Gomes was called into action from a shot on the right. Oh, and would it surprise you to hear that Dawson then had to make a terrific clearing header under pressure from three Donetsk players following another piss poor clearance from Huddlestone? It shouldn't. This was the general theme!

The break couldn't have come quickly enough. We were poor. Totally lacking effort, often caught out by a ball over the top (even though a couple of them were gems). While Donetsk were breaking quickly, we looked slow. There was nothing up front, and overall, it was a surprise we still hadn't seen them score.

In honesty, though, they didn't look like they were all that deadly. Lots of nice possession, decent attacking, but a bit lacking at the very last moment.

That, and probably the fantastic game that Michael Dawson was having.

Considering the hassle of trying to get out of our area, we opted to just stay stood where we were. Feet very cold, but overall, not that bad. Certainly didn't feel as cold as Prague at this stage last season.

The second half started with much more promise from Spurs. A very good run by Jenas to get a ball over the top, but his lob was just a shade too weak.

We then had a few minutes of really good possession. Some of our own supporters found this frustrating, but actually it was a really good thing. We had finally seemed to settle into a bit of a rhythm. It got so infuriating for the Donetsk fans that they started booing! Nice. You always know you've got under their skin when that happens.

Ultimately it didn't lead to anything, and the next real chance fell to Donetsk. Guess what? Another great tackle from Michael Dawson.

From the break though Jenas was a bit unlucky as the ball broke too far in front of him to control. Maybe on a softer pitch he'd have made it.

There was a little bit more promise at least. Now rather than having to weather a one way storm, at least we were managing to get the ball into attacking areas. Don't get me wrong. This was not vintage Tottenham Hotspur. Not by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a shedload better than what had been served up in the first half.

Parrett then had a really good go at getting to another ball over the top, but their keeper was alert and blocked at his feet. I've waxed lyrical about Dawson, but Parrett should get a mention. In tough circumstances he didn't do much wrong. Good on him. Shame the general demeanour of the side wasn't to go out and win the game. He could've been even better then.

Incredibly we then crafted a lovely move from back to front, left to right, with a great ball over to Bent. He got there, but the defender was good enough to block. Shame, as Bent would've been clean through otherwise.

It looked promising - in a no score bore manner of speaking. While we'd been pressed back constantly in the first half, we were at least coming back into the game somewhat in the second. We may just get away with something here.

No chance.

Soft free kick given away, sucker punch. Goal to Donetsk. All I saw from my vantage point was a stationary defence, Gomes coming for the ball, a Donetsk player rising to head it, and the Donetsk fans sat around the stadium jumping up and down. Oh. A goal down.

I suppose on the balance of play you'd say it wasn't undeserved. What a kick in the nuts though. At a time when you're asserting yourselves enough to look like you'll go away with a result that's acceptable, you go and shoot yourselves in the foot like that.

Gomes went down, arm up straight away. The other players simply walked away. Didn't look all that concerned, didn't look all that bothered about him. How much of that injury was real, and how much wasn't, I wouldn't like to say, but it was suspect.

There was still time though. Maybe, somehow we could sneak back into this game? With five minutes to go, it was probably a fine balance. How much pressure do you exert and risk opening up more space to go two down?

The reality was that we exerted no pressure at all. It felt unforgiveable. Five minutes to go, a defeat in Europe staring us in the face (OK, you'd probably just about take a single goal deficit back to The Lane), but the lack of effort was just inexcusable. The travelling faitful made it clear too.

Then, bang, the second goal. It was a cack piece of defending from us, what looked like a nicely crafted goal from them. The two things together did for us.

That there was not a single challenge as the lad ran clean across the eighteen yard box was shocking. That we helped him with the one-two that opened up a lovely angle for him to push it into the far corner..... well, you take your hat off to what the home supporters would claim was a well crafted goal, but as a Spurs fan, you pull your hair out in frustration.

Incredibly, that second goal seemed to knock some sense into the players, and Dawson headed from probably a couple of yards out, a ball that he'd have been better served trying to smash into the back of the next. The ball was still loose though. Surprise surprise, not a single Spurs player made any effort to get there. Minutes to go and you let a loose ball in the six yard box pass you by. What kind of effort is that?

With injury time played out, it was a 2-0 defeat. It was odd. Somehow I think we all knew to expect it, but that didn't make it any better. It was a dire performance from almost everyone. The one standout for us - Michael Dawson.

After the game only three of the players - Dawson, Jeans and one other - seemed to be bothering coming over the fans. It showed huge disrespect I thought. Eventually the others were persuaded to join them.

The team selection was poor, as was playing some of the players in the positions they were played. Huddlestone patently is not centre half material, and Chimbonda was well and truly found out at left back (even though I thought he'd done OK towards the end of his previous tenure in that position). Campbell doesn't have anything like what it takes to lead the line, and what it says of Redknapp's view on Bent is anybody's guess.

We weren't kept behind too long. Surprising really. Sometimes it takes bloody ages to get out. As we trudged off the discontent was there for all to hear. The Martin Jol songs were back in effect, even though we all know that'll never happen.

Check-in at the airport was a mess. Just a massed rank of people, no queues. We had to wait ages to get onto the flight and make our way back to Stansted. There was a bmi plane sat next to ours. Probably the players. Maybe the VIP trip - one that the club still ran even after Thomas Cook cancelled. Makes you question what kind of travel partner they really are.

A couple of people were very, very unwell on the plane. Probably a consequence of not eating much, having been on the beers for the best part of two days, and, I'd suggest having had to endure such a nothing Spurs performance.

We eventually got back at 4am. The birds were starting to sing, and the unhappiness was simmering.

Donetsk is a long way to go. We worked bloody hard to get into Europe for the third season in a row. We all know Premier League survival is the priority, but the squad selection, the tactics, the nothingness of the effort..... it left a very sour taste. Aside from Dawson it was a mediocre performance at best. I'm maybe a bit harsh on Parrett there, but even so.

At the end of the game, for only three players to then be bothered to walk over..... that says a lot about the way we've set ourselves up for European competition this season.

Sadly, I don't see us back in Europe for some considerable time. In the immediate aftermath of the game I was scathing about Harry Redknapp. I still am really. I don't appreciate the way he carries himself as Spurs manager. That doesn't mean I don't want him to save us from the drop and help us through tonight, and then beat United on Sunday. Some people don't understand how that can work. Oh how I wish for the days of Martin Jol, and in saying that, I break one of my own golden rules - football isn't about ifs, buts and maybes. You get on with what you've got, and we will.

The shame of it is that European competition which this club desires, it needs..... its of little importance to the current regime in the current predicament.

For the three hundred or so that made to the journey to Donetsk, that's the bitterest pill to swallow. A great trip, spoiled by a terrible game of football.

[funster]

The good old panoramic of the stadium.

Donetsk_away :: V190209_1843.flv video by funster_photobucket - Photobucket

[Pitseleh]

good article, shame theres not more pictures of the birds though!

[RiverWire]

Jesus mate think thats the longest you ever done lol , great piece though

[Innuendo]

Funster,

I'm not sure if you remember me - I'm Piotr, the Polish ticket collector that you PMed 1,5 year ago. I happened to see your post above, and then went on to read your depiction of Spurs' game in Krakow, and just thought I'd comment on them a bit.

First of all, "Wisla" is the Polish name for Vistula, the longest river in Poland (that I cross every day now that I study in Warsaw ). It's called the queen of Polish rivers, and hence the banner Wisla's fans had on the fence.

Secondly, the police. You were surprised and perhaps irritated by their guarding of your group. I am afraid though that it was the right decision - some Polish fans, and those in Krakow especially, are really dangerous thugs who think that if you are a football supporter then for sure you're ready for a skirmish. It seems to be the case in Krakow all the time - Wisla's and Cracovia's fans assault the ones of the other team and take their scarves and flags, that are afterwards burnt on derby matches:
YouTube - WIS�A Kraków - Derby - Pasiaste Szaliczki

I don't really think that the fact hooliganism has been more or less eradicated from England would deter them from trying out on you. All of this gear the police wear is due to the fact that for those aggressive fans it's the police that's the greatest enemy. Normally they dare not attack them because assaulting a policeman would probably mean ending in jail, but if they appear to be in majority they suddenly grow very courageous and often attack the cops or pelt them with stones/rods/flares etc. The sad thing is that measures like water cannon or tear gas are often not enough.

Thirdly, I'm quite surprised at the high prices of flights to Krakow back then. I'm not sure how it's now, but for years following our accession to the EU and the Poles' mass exodus to the UK it was known that one could fly very cheaply (like 200zl for a single ticket - it would be something like 40 pounds), albeit not directly to London or other major city, but rather the one frequented by budget airlines (Luton for instance).
I have now checked and the cost of a flight to Luton would be barely 129zl, and now that our currency is depreciating it would make even a better deal for the British.

By the way - it was a pleasure to read your reports as you use very good English. I know it sounds hilarious when spoken by a Pole, but the thing is most of the English that you see in the web is simply rubbish (or rubb!5h should I say ). I have quite a good level, but still got to learn a few new words like pokey, vitriol or slumber I still have no idea though what "bucket and spade guys" might mean

Anyway, hope you and other Tottenham supporters soon have a new chance to travel around Europe, because visiting the Premier League's stadiums must have grown a bit boring over the years

[KTBFFH]

i agree with you entirely!