Milan – A Game of Two Halves

The Iconic San Siro Stadium

Tan was at the airport to pick me up bang on 1pm as he said he would. At 4.30pm we were checking into our hotel just outside Milan after a pleasant and uneventful drive up through the Alps. The hotel, as usual, was nothing like it looked on the internet but for one night, it was ok.

A couple of drinks and some helpful advice from the receptionist and we set off to have dinner in the centre of Milan before getting the metro to the San Siro – that was the plan, but by this time I was totally fed up with Joanna Lumley on the Tom Tom (Sat Nav) telling us to ‘take the next right daaahhhling’, in that awfully posh voice of hers so I contradicted her and within 100 metres of leaving the hotel we had to reprogramme Joanna – we’d missed the autoroute! I’m sure I heard her say, ‘you’re a plonker daaahling.’


Still, it meant we were able to sample the Milan traffic which, with a combination of rush hour and football traffic, was a bit of a nightmare but within an hour of leaving the hotel, the lights of the San Siro appeared right in front of us. A colossal edifice lighting up the night sky.  

The San Siro at Night

At this point it became all too easy. We parked within 200 metres of the stadium and went for a drink and some pizza, and despite the supposed threat of the Milan Ultras (fanatical and often violent fans), the atmosphere was very pleasant. I spoke to quite a few Milan fans and very friendly they were.

We got into the stadium without too much trouble and settled down to watch the Spurs players warm up before the game and at precisely 8.45pm it was kick-off - and then it all went wrong. 

I don’t think Tan had settled into his seat properly when Milan surged down the left and Zanetti scored. One-nil up and the game was only 1 minute and 49 seconds old! Nine minutes later and it was 2-0. As Milan surged forward, the Spurs defence parted like the Red Sea when Moses waved his arms, and in an act of desperation the visiting left back pulled the forward down. The referee darted over, pointed to the penalty spot and then reached into his pocket and pulled out an orange card. It was supposed to be red but whether it was the lights or the ref’s sense of coordination, the card was most definitely orange and matched his top beautifully.

This was a disaster. It was likely to be 2-0 after the penalty and Spurs were down to 10 men – but wait. The Spurs players crowded round the ref and he reached into his pocket and flashed his orange card once more, this time at the goalkeeper. Spurs were down to nine men, but no – the ref had shown his card to the wrong player first time round. Spurs were back to ten players.

Zanetti Scores the First Goal

The penalty was coolly dispatched by Eto’o for Milan. 2-0.

Tan had his head in his hands scarcely able to believe what was happening. He raised his head to watch the game once more and three minutes later it was 3-0 to Milan. It was all I could do to stop him throwing himself off the upper tier of the San Siro. He had desperately hoped that Spurs would give the reigning champions a game and wouldn’t embarrass themselves but 3-0 down after fourteen minutes – it could end up a cricket score. And sure enough, in the 37^th minute Eto’o wandered down the left once more and scored again. 4-0!

Half-time came as a blessed relief. I’m sure Tan thought about calling it a day and leaving but having driven 350km to get there, he convinced himself to stay. My team Rangers were 1-0 up in Glasgow and the drinks vendors actually had spirits for sale so given that my self-imposed alcohol ban had ended earlier that evening, I had a Sambuca and Coke to celebrate – Sambuca - not something you’d find being dispensed in a UK ground. You don’t find any alcohol being dispensed in UK grounds, well at least outside the corporate boxes! 

      

The second half started with the 5,000 or so Spurs fans, seated up in the Gods, singing that they “don’t win **** all’, which is probably true but they certainly won the singing contest in the stadium, drowning out the 45,000 Milan fans easily.

And then Spurs scored. Gareth Bale, the Spurs defender ran a full 50m with his ears flapping in the wind, cut inside and dispatched a left foot shot into the Milan net. 4-1 and the Spurs fans clapped and cheered. It might not be the humiliation they had feared.

Towards the end of the game, Bale did an action replay of his first goal. You would have thought the Milan defenders would have worked out what he was going to do this time but no – Bale cut inside again, struck the ball with his left foot and it was 4-2. The Spurs fans went wild. Tan went ballistic. Surrounded by the opposition or not, cries of ‘easy, easy’ poured from his mouth and he held up ten fingers to the blue and black clad Milan fans reminding them that his team only had 10 men.  

There were only a couple of minutes of added-on time to go when Bale wandered down the Milan right once more. Was he going to the corner flag to waste time and keep the score at 4-2? Nope – he cut inside again and lashed the ball into the Milan net for the third time.

The Spurs fans went crazy. Tan was high-fiving anybody who had a hand in the air, Milanese or not.  The Inter  fans were worried now – how long to go and Spurs couldn’t score a fourth and tie the tie so to speak – could they?

Gareth Bale with the Match Ball

Nope. The ref's whistle went and the Spurs fans stood to a man cheering their team and Bale in particular. Bale grabbed the ball and went down the tunnel, his transfer value no doubt having soared by ten million or so in a single 90 minute display.

What a game. A game of two halves.

Prophetic or What ?

I had hoped that Guy would have read my blog of last Friday when I told the tale of crashing my dad’s car simply because I was too young and stupid to take his advice. Well I didn’t realise that it was all too prophetic.

Guy had been grounded last week because of school related issues earlier in the week. He was supposed to come straight back from lyceé each evening and was banned from using his PC but of course, this regime only lasted a couple of days before he talked his way out of it, insisting he was going to his pal’s house in the village for dinner on Friday night.

I have to say I was a bit dubious about this plan but gave him the benefit of the doubt. Later on, we got a call from a stranded Guy that his scooter had been stolen and guess what, it didn’t have its security chain fitted and was nowhere near the village when it was taken.

For the next couple of days I suppose Guy sweated on the issues of getting to lyceé without his scooter, well I hope he did, because by public transport it’s a pain – a one and half hour journey compared to thirty minutes by scooter.

Thankfully, on Sunday we got a call from the local Gendarmerie saying his scoot (that’s what scooters are called in France) had been found. When we picked it up the ignition barrel had been hammered out and they had cut away his faring to get into the box under the seat – quite a bit of damage but at least Guy was able to run it home. The thieves had also, according to the police, returned the scoot to exactly the same place where they’d taken it which is strange.

So Guy, if you read this – just think why every scoot you see in Vence and even in the village is locked with a security chain. It’s not a curious practice adopted by local yokels – they do it for a reason – the reason I told you repeatedly when you got the scoot and the reason I tell you every time you go out – thieves can take an unlocked scoot in about thirty seconds – put your chain on.  

The Famous San Siro

Now – there’ll be no blog tomorrow. Tan and I will be in Milan for this evening’s Champions League match between Tottenham Hotspur and Inter Milan at the iconic San Siro, one of the world’s best stadiums and we’ll be travelling back tomorrow morning. No doubt there will be a report on Friday. 

C’mon you Spurs! Pity I’ll be missing the Rangers game on the telly but never mind.

Donkey Tales (Part II)

Happily munching away at the grass on my terraces , Donkey became quite an attraction. Tan stopped when he came home from work and took some pictures and then when Angie and her little girls arrived, they too went up to stroke him. He was perfectly behaved.

Then J and her pal, Linda arrived and they too climbed up onto the terraces to pat him. Carrots, potatoes and parsnips were the order of the day and Donkey munched his way through what must have been the equine equivalent of steak and chips. I suspect he was rather disappointed though in the human race when Linda started talking about donkey sausages being on sale in Antibes market!

Kitty called the police but they weren’t really interested and told us to call the local animal sanctuary but not long afterwards J spoke to a French guy who lives below us and he reckoned Donkey had been borrowed (with a goat) and was from a house along St Arnoux where the animals were being used to clear the ground.

It was getting dark by now and we all headed over to Tan and Angie’s for pizza where occasionally we could hear Dierdre braying and if you’re wondering why Dierdre – my brother had imparted his knowledge of donkeys (don’t ask !!) and had said that if ‘there’s nothing hanging down, it’s a female’, and so Donkey was rechristened Dierdre.

At 5am the next morning I awoke to this awful noise – nope, it wasn’t J snoring but Dierdre wanting some attention. I had to get dressed and go up onto the terraces with a bag of carrots and give her a pat. It was just getting light, well light enough for me to see the mess Dierdre had made – ok she’d munched her way through all the long grass which the mower had missed but she’d also left piles of dung everywhere – piles and piles of it! What a mess.

Later on about 10am, I took Dierdre down to the lower terraces where she was tethered on a long rope. Down there if anybody was passing and spotted her, they might be able to contact the owner and sure enough that’s what happened. A French lady stopped, said she knew the owner and twenty minutes later a French guy appeared and said he was missing his âne (donkey). As I led him down to her, he shouted, ‘Oscar Oscar’ (so much for Dierdre and my brother’s advice!) and dear old Oscar came running up to greet him. 

‘I’ve also lost five goats’, he said, ‘you haven’t seen them have you?’

So Oscar was ridden off, back to her stony terraces halfway down St Arnoux and I suspect the vegetables she got from us will be the last she sees for quite a while.

We all miss you Oscar.  

Anyone Lost a Donkey ?

I headed off to the village on Friday morning with a list of errands thrust into my palm: go to the garage and hand over J’s wheels and tyres; get Shadow some food (we reckoned he was hungry as he was last seen eating grass); go to the post office and pick up the latest parcel.

I’d already been to the post office this week to pick up two tyres for J’s car, bought on the internet (brand new - not some dodgy rubbish) and our delightful post mistress had said she’d never had tyres delivered before. And so when I turned up on Friday to be handed another rather bulky box, she remarked in French,’another day another parcel Mr Cupples.’ Predictably, it was from Marks and Spencers – if only M&S did car tyres I wouldn’t need to make so many journeys!

Pleased with what I’d achieved in less than an hour, I headed home in the Alfa. It’s only its sixth outing in about a year so I gave it a bit of a wanging and roared down the quiet country roads before heading off up into the hills. No sooner had I left the main road than I came across an animal right in the middle of the lane. Now I’ve seen deer, boar, badgers, foxes, squirrels, rabbits and a host of other things including snakes, but I’d never encountered a donkey before.

It just stood there looking at me (see picture) and wouldn’t move so I got out of the car and being wary of its hooves, approached it slowly and started to stroke it. It was obviously well cared for and had a sort of lead on its neck and as soon as it reasoned that I wasn’t a threat, it started to nuzzle me. After a few minutes I decided it would know where to go and would return home under its own steam and I drove off, only to look in my mirror and see ‘donkey’ running after me. I stopped – it stopped. I drove off – it followed. I stopped – it stopped. Eventually, I got out of the car again and pushed it into the bushes where it happily munched some disgusting, thorny stuff and I drove off. Donkey did not follow. Success!

I got home, found out J was just about to set off on one of her all-day shopping trips and as her car was on blocks of wood with its wheels off, she decided she’d spend the day bombing along the coast in my Alfa and off it disappeared in a spray of gravel.

Fed up with being ‘dumped’ at lunchtimes, I got on my scooter and headed for the village - again. Guess who was standing in the middle of the road – yup - donkey. I got off, stroked it some more before heading off down the lane and was relieved it didn’t run after me this time. It was last seen heading in the direction of my house.

After a pleasant lunch, I was nearly home when there he was again – standing in the middle of the road. I got off and he actually ran up to me. I told him I’d be back, got home and then grabbed Shadow and headed back down the lane to see if he was still there – which he was. I put Shadow’s lead on him and he meekly followed me home. Shadow of course wanted to be friends but Donkey wasn’t quite so sure and worried about what a hefty hoof would do to Shadow’s ribs I told him to go off in front which he did, leading us home with his tail held high.

We got home, I put donkey on the high terraces and tethered him to a fence, gave him J’s last parsnip (she’ll kill me) and took him a bucket of water. He showed no interest in the water at all but proceeded to eat the bucket!

So what will happen next? Phone the police? Or wait for some irate Frenchies to turn up shouting that I’ve kidnapped their donkey?

Next installment tomorrow.

PS - I've just noticed that there were quite a few visits recently to my site from Chile - d'ya think the miners were kept sane by giving them my blog to read in the dark depths of that mine?