The last game before the Bulgarian league’s winter break is the Eternal Derby between CSKA and Levski Sofia. The meeting of the two biggest teams in Bulgaria with its history of hostility are played at the neutral Vasil Levski Stadium.
It’s a Bulgarian Cup quarterfinal second leg the first game was goalless.
The stadium is on the edge of Sofia city centre and I’m hurrying to make a weird 4pm Thursday afternoon kick off. The floodlights and chanting make it easy to find and the intimidating ranks of riot clad police helpfully point me to the ticket office.
A half way line ticket is only 14 lev about 7 quid. Nobody is sitting, everyone stands on the plastic bucket seats to keep their feet of the cold ground.
The stadium is the usual Eastern European concrete bowl an athletic track keeping play at a distance. It is only a quarter full but the atmosphere is great. The ultras at either end do their orchestrated singing and choreographed displays.
My Xperia phone camera’s limitations are more apparent in the low light and when compared to photo’s from the Levski Ultra’s site.
I’m standing with Levski supporters and their team has the edge in a lively goalless first half. The only player I recognise is CSKA’s Martin Petrov the balding former Bolton left winger. His corner produces the best chance of the half but Mendy’s header is well saved by Illiev.
The sun goes down and the temp drops.
At half time a crowd gathers at the players exit to hurl abuse at the officials and the opposition. The police raise their shields to form a protective tunnel. The sudden hostility is alarming, a few missiles are thrown but after the players disappear, the police put away their shields and everyone wanders off together for a warm drink.
The second half is a midfield battle. There is racist chanting from both sets of supporters aimed at the other teams black players. Every time Mendy, the Senegalese centre-back, lingers on the ball a shaven headed man climbs up the fencing in front of me to monkey chant. He is remarkably angry. The police and a few young kids look on. It’s a bit disturbing.
I try jumping up and down to stay warm but it’s not helping. I’m dreading extra-time but it appears inevitable and duly comes.
I can recall matches with extra time drama. Both teams would recklessly charge forward then be too tired to get back. End to end excitement. Exhausted players missing a succession of simple chances.
The last time this happened was probably in the 1980s. Footballers today are too cagey to go forward in case they find they are too tired to run back. Supporters look at their watches and worry about the last bus.
The only event in extra-time was that my knees froze and stopped working.
So to penalties and Levski finally win 7-6 . As Mulder slots the decisive kick and wheeled away towards celebrating team mates I hobbled towards the exit and headed to the Taj Mahal the best and only curry house in Sofia.