I was there
Well. I’ve had a hell of a start to my trip!
Let’s rewind.
First of all, the train count is now at seven, if we include locals:
London Underground Piccadilly Line Airport to Hammersmith
London Underground Circle line Hammersmith to Euston
Avanti West Coast London Euston to Stoke-on-Trent
Avanti West Coast Stoke-on-Trent to Manchester Piccadilly
Manchester Metrolink Red line St. Peter's to Wharfside
Manchester Metrolink Red line Wharfside to St. Peter's
Northern Manchester Piccadilly to Stoke-on-Trent
And, I learned something. I had originally booked to Stoke, then later bought a different ticket from Stoke to Manchester, once I learned I’d be going to the Manchester United - Lyon match. The plan was to check in to my hotel at Stoke, then hop on the later train. Then, I started overthinking the train back after the match–and good thing I did, but more on that later–so I changed my hotel in Stoke to one night, and booked a different hotel in Manchester for the night of the match. And booked another train, on the Northern line, so I wouldn’t be spending 5 hours in Stoke with all my luggage and nothing to do. Got all that? Great.
But then, reality: I booked the two trains I really meant to take too close together, my first train was delayed, and I missed the second train. Thankfully I hadn’t canceled my other booking, only because it was non-refundable, and it was an off-peak ticket. So I could just take the next off-peak train. I just had to figure out what that meant. With a little bit of confusion, and help from the Avanti staff at Stoke, I did finally figure it all out and made it to Manchester with time to breathe, shower, and finally change out of the clothes I’d been wearing for far too long, before heading to the match.
The tram to the match was packed, with a few people even sitting on the laps of friends to fit in more. I’m not sure how this happened, but there wasn’t a single Lyon fan on the tram or the platform waiting. But later, we passed a tram full of Lyon fans. Very loud and confident Lyon fans.
I arrived early, just to experience all the build up, and found I was one of the first in my section…at the very top of the stadium. My legs were burning from the steps up. Literally, there was one row behind me, then a brick wall.
After a breather, and adjusting to the altitude, I got a tea, as I had been directed by a dear British friend. He also told me to get a meat pie or something, but I was on very little sleep and reaching delirium, and I felt confident that my stomach would not cope well with that offering, so I got a chocolate bar instead. Just to mention, the prices are a bit steep, but still half the price of stadiums in the US (and I’m including the exchange rate there).
I went back to my seat and watched the proceedings. The Lyon supporters were louder at the beginning, maybe just because they were all concentrated in one corner, but as the stands filled, the United fans started to chant as well and the atmosphere grew from there.
Out of respect for the people around me, from here on out, I was a United fan. Please know that it pains me to say this, but it made for a much more engaging experience.
Now, let me get to the match itself, because I have to say, I’m still buzzing. It would have been an enjoyable match to watch on TV, but it was absolutely thrilling to experience in person. I still can’t believe I witnessed this match live.
Intro
I’m going to do some set up here for all my readers who say “Only you could make me read multiple paragraphs about sports” (this is a direct quote from one of you, but I’ve heard it from many of you). If you understand the context in which last night’s match was played, scroll down until you see “Football understanders continue here”
Alright, last night was the second leg of a “two-legged tie” in the semi-final of the UEFA Europa League. It’s the second level of UEFA competitions, but still a big deal. Two-legged ties consist of two matches, one at each team’s home stadium, played to 90 minutes (the clock counts up). The scores of both matches are aggregated to determine a winner. This means a team can lose one of the matches, but still win the tie. If, after the second 90 minute match, the aggregated scores are tied, then they play two 15 minute halves, called “Added Extra Time” or AET, and if still tied then, it goes to penalty kicks.
The first match was played at Lyon, and United did okay. They let in an early Lyon goal, but then came back from 1-0 to lead, with a goal in the 88th minute. They just needed to hold on for a few minutes, then they’d be going into the second leg with a lead. Then at the last minute, a bad bit of goalkeeping let Lyon level the match, and it ended with a 2-2 draw.
Most of the discourse in the week since was around the keeper Andre Onana. Arguably, both goals were due to poor work from him. Many called for a different keeper to start this match. Personally, putting on my neutral hat here, I think Onana has been mediocre for a few seasons now, often making critical errors at the worst times, and I don’t know why the man still has the job. But what do I know?
Some additional season context here is that United is having one of their worst seasons in the EPL ever, and the supporters are really frustrated. Rightfully so, I’d say. As much as I don’t care for the team, they’ve long been a giant of England, and they are on course to finish this season in the bottom half of the league.
So, all that to say, the fans going into the stands last night were nervous, and fair to say they were nervous for good reason.
Football understanders continue here
So that brings us to kickoff. Bear with me here, I’ve never done a match recap like this, so I hope it’s engaging still.
Onana is yet again starting in the net, and a few curious changes were made to the back line, likely due to some injuries.
United started off strong, with a goal at the 10th minute, and another beauty right before half time. I don’t know if the stats back it up, but many feel that scoring right before the half is a great sign. It sends your team into the second half with momentum, maybe throws off the energy in the locker room of the other team, maybe disrupts the team talk of the other manager, etc. And I can say, anecdotally, this does seem to be true.
Fans get up and stretch (the seats are small, plastic, and tightly packed), hit the bathrooms, and go to the concourse for a beer–they’re technically not allowed in the seats, though I saw quite a few smuggled in, including one young man who impressively managed to smuggle three open bottles in his waistband. I made friends with the man sitting next to me, who I’m going to call Frank. He went to school in Connecticut and had fond memories of Boston. We talked a little about the season, and he was surprisingly mum on his opinions of what’s going wrong, something I’ve never encountered in a football fan before.
I checked the score on the other knockout matches–if United win, they’ll face either Athletic Club from Spain, or Rangers from Scotland. I said I’d rather Rangers, he’d rather face Athletic Club. I’m going to be honest, I think he’s dead wrong on that. But now, Frank is my friend and we’re going to celebrate this together.
And then…
We kick off the last half of this two-legged tie with United in the lead 2-0 on the night, 4-2 on aggregate. The spirits of the crowd are high. But frankly, United’s performance felt flat. The man behind me, who I’m going to call Edgar, grew increasingly morose, while also growing increasingly hard to understand, after trips to the concourse for beers. Frank is very vocal about his disappointment in the performance by Rasmus Højlund. Here, Frank is right, the man was useless on the night.
Then, with 20 minutes to safety, Lyon score. Then again, eight minutes later. Ten minutes left in the match and the score stands 2-2 on the night, 4-4 on aggregate. Edgar is disconsolate, Frank is speechless. I am tired and really don’t want another 30 to 45 minutes of play. I’m already dreading going down all those stairs. In the olden days, teams used to play to win in AET. Now it often feels like they’re just playing to avoid mistakes, waiting for penalties. It’s dreadfully boring.
Then, a faint glimmer of hope. With a minute left in the match, it’s a red card for Lyon and they’re now playing with ten men to United’s eleven. But it’s not enough time for United to take advantage. After a few minutes of added time, the whistle blows and seals our fate. The match is tied, and after a short break, we move on to AET.
I am, in my own way, disconsolate. I can’t leave now. My back is aching from carting around my pack all day, my contacts are so dry they might pop out, and I have no idea how hard it will be to get back to my hotel in this crowd.
The AET commences, and it’s dodgy for the first ten minutes, it looks like everyone will be playing safe til penalties. Then it starts to open up and fifteen minutes in, Lyon scores. Edgar is screaming obscenities. Frank is still silent, morose. The kids behind me are talking about leaving.
Then comes the death knell. In the second half of AET, a penalty for Lyon. Half the crowd in my section stands up and heads for the exit. Surprisingly, Edgar stays, despite his threats to never watch this team again.
Lyon put the penalty away easily and surely, with ten minutes to go, it’s over for United. I think I might try to leave myself, but no, Frank would be disappointed in me if I left. So I stay, I have been singing “U-N-I, T-E-D, United is the team for me” all night, I can’t give up now.
But wait…hope.
Four minutes later, United earn their own penalty and the captain, Bruno Fernandes puts his away with ease. Then, in the final regular minute of AET, 19 year-old Kobbie Mainoo puts the ball in the back of the net. We’re tied and surely going to penalties. Edgar is hugging every one, smacking me on the back. I’m screaming myself, jumping up and down while Frank pulls at my sleeve, “Aren’t you glad you flew out here Boston?” he shouts.
The noise is incredible, the crowd that stayed has been rewarded for their faith, and there is a belief in the team again. As they’ve been singing, “they’ve seen it all, they’ve won it all, and they’re never gonna stop.”
For much of the AET, Harry Maguire, a central defender, has been inexplicably playing at the front, trying to win a good header into the net. There’s a minute left in the stoppage time added onto the AET, we’ve been going for hours, everyone in the stands and on the field, is emotionally and physically exhausted.
The cross comes into the box, Maguire gets his head to it, and directs it into the back of the net.
Have you ever heard shouting so loud it almost folds in on itself into silence? Because that’s what happens. Edgar has me and Frank in a crushing hug. The young boy who’s been gleefully shouting all the chants with curse words is screaming and crying.
It turns out, we weren’t in the back, there were suites behind us, and the people in them are leaning out of them to hug those of us in the back row. I have never in my life experienced this kind of euphoric surge in a crowd, certainly not one that five minutes earlier was hopeless.
So that’s it, final score, 5-4 on the night, 7-6 on aggregate. United are moving on.
I am in shock. I want to be in my bed immediately and also never want to leave that bubble of joy. I stand still at my seat for a minute until Frank slaps me on the back again and says, “well you picked quite a match for your first visit to Old Trafford.”
I say goodnight to my new friends and join the crowd moving down the steps. It took me half an hour to get back to my hotel room, but the whole time is full of strangers hugging and singing and voicing their disbelief. We have witnessed in-person the kind of match that will be talked about for ages. We will get to say “I was there”. By the time I’m back in my hotel, I’m so exhausted that I can hardly do more than fall into bed.
And think, “I was there.”