I was certainly wondering the wisdom of this trip. Lens were second bottom of Ligue 2, without a point after three games and one win in nine league, cup and friendly games. The knives were out for Casanova. The fallout from the previous season's failure to earn promotion was certainly proving difficult to overcome. Social media was filled with debate. The loanees, notably Karim Hafez, had returned to their clubs, while the names of Bostock, Zoubir, Lopez were being linked with every club imaginable. Lala had gone to Strasbourg and fans favourite Autret had gone to Brest at the end of his contract. Added to this the loss of midfield dynamo Benjamin Bourigeaud to Ligue 1 Rennes with no suitable replacement being found things weren't going well. The players that had been brought had no exactly set the Ligue alight. On top of this, major signing Madri Mouaad, had broken his leg in his home debut. The first and only signing who had cost any money, Madri would now miss the 6-8 months. Talk about luck!
The trip was booked in June; as soon as the fixtures had been released and days off work achieved . The fact that the second round of the Coupe de la Ligue was to be held the following Tuesday made us feel safe in the knowledge that the game would not be moved to the Monday night. We hadn't reckoned on the slyness of the LFP.
The swines waited until the first round had been played to see which teams got knocked out. It made for a nervous wait as we realised that if Brest and Lens were knocked out they would be the Monday night game without a doubt. Both teams' terrible start to the season (0 points between them) didn't bode well and when Brest were knocked out of the cup on penalties by Paris FC the stage was set for Lens to really put the kai-bosh on our trip!
In the first half Lens were desperate to oblige: conceding an unlucky goal in the first half. Sitting, that night, on a hot Spanish terrace in my Lens shirt watching the action unfold on my phone, I felt that there was no way we would get to see the lads play. I was gutted and convinced there was no way they could recover. However, the misfiring Habibou was replaced by Lopez and within 11 minutes he had set up one for Lendric and helped himself to the winner. I was beside myself!
Surely now everything would be alright. They had a first win of the season and I would be there to roar them to victory in the next home game!
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| Budget tightening at British Customs forces extreme staffing measures! |
So it was that, on my birthday, Adrian, Alex and I found ourselves bombing down the A1: Eurotunnel bound.
Our Friday night was to be spent in the comfort of the Stade de la Liberation watching Boulogne v Grenoble. It was great to meet up with Jeremie and his mate, Alain who were in the VIP section.
I was bought some birthday drinks in the small bar opposite the ticket office as we listened to both Jeremie (telling us how excited he was to be having champagne with his VIP package) and the bare-chested gaggle of home fans chanting to no-one in particular as they lit multiple red flares. Welcome to France!
Our own culinary delight was Merguez sausage et frites. Everyone a winner!  |
| Cosy....? Aromatic? Defo! |
The quality of the football was good in spells, especially from Boulogne but there was a lack of goal-mouth action and as the sun set we began to realise the error of wearing shorts. In the second half Grenoble scored. Scrappy approach play was finished off by an accomplished strike. The mood dropped around us along with the temperature and a cold wind swirled around us. Unfortunately the match didn't warm us up. Chances were rare and at the finally whistle, all we could think of was escaping to a warm bar. This is just what we did before we returned to our Premier Class Hotel: which was everything but. The toilet door that managed to rust itself shut every time and the tiny window that managed to keep out light were just two of the highlights but it was warm and out of the wind so what more could we ask for?
