Worldnet 2015
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| The last successful Lens campaign led by coach Pascal in 2007 |
This year promised to be more of the same with Frenchmen wandering around Preston repeating one of the phrases they had been given to use:
"We are French, we do not speak English. We are here for a football tournament." being their favourite.
This year I had been called upon to mediate with the Holiday Inn, Preston to sort out some accommodation for the lads, and a few lasses, as coach Pascal had had to put family first and stay in France. This did mean, however, that he didn't stop asking constantly for updates as his passion for the teams still carried across the channel. I managed to sort out a mixture of twin and double rooms so the party would either have to be very good friends or bring a sleeping bag: most opted for the latter.
Setting off at 6:30 may have seemed early to some but this was nothing compared to the Lens teams and their supporters who had set off from La Loco pub, Lens at 8pm on Friday night to get a middle of the night ferry from Calais to Dover. Unfortunately delays in Calais meant that when I arrived in Preston at 9am Saturday morning, the teams were still two hours away. Fellow Brit Lens fan, Adrian had also arrived to cheer on Les Sang et Or teams.
When they finally arrived all that was forgotten as both sides stepped onto the pitch. The A team were drawing 1-1 against Real Maroon as we set off for our first game against Troon. There seemed to be no problems with "bus legs" as the lads on the B team took the game to the Scots and midway through the second half they were rewarded with a great goal.
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| I can run...! |
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| A proud man....great off the ball runner....hopeless with it! |
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| "This lot are .......!" But we are winning. Ha! |
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| Allez les Sang et Or! |
Another tradition for Preston is for 20+ Frenchmen to arrive en mass at the local Indian restaurant EastzEast, on a Saturday night, without a booking and order mixed grill and chips. We always try to introduce them to the idea of having some kind of sauce or rice, although the idea of cider, mojitoes, naan bread, popadoms and pickles seems to be gradually gaining quicker popularity: although not all at once! After that Adrian and I left the French to visit one of the local nightspots to brave the last train back to Adrian's which was just as entertaining as their night out; with pensioners vs teenagers arguments and fights, singing and swaying Scots, a bemused policeman or two who tried to be as low key as possible ("just don't notice us, please!") along with a whole train full of loud, pissed up individuals. What more could you want?
There were sore heads galore the next day, however both teams made it through their respective last sixteen rounds. Team B beating Bury B 2-0 and final run around up front for yours truly while the A team were locked with last year's winners Halifax and had to go to a golden goal period of extra time which was the cue for great celebrations...
That was to be my final memory of Worldnet 2015 as I had to put family first with my mum's birthday and head back to Tyneside for a family meal. The lads were all very understanding as I wished them all luck and the phrase "family comes first" seemed to be well understood by them and respected: it made it easier for me to leave. As the oldest member of the team, a sprightly 45-year-old, I had been extremely pleased with my contributions, realistic about my own skill levels and despite being the outsider, I was made to feel a valued part of the group, which just reflected the way I had been treated on my visits to Lens.
In my absence the B team were beaten by eventual winners Preston but by no means disgraced in their quarter final. The A team made it through to the semi-final where they too were beaten by Preston. As per usual, the Lens players and supporters managed get more attention than the winners and make more friends along the way simply because of their joie-de-vivre and freedom from a sense of English reserve. Of course they wanted to win the tournament but once the smoke had settled on the disappointment of their elimination, they did what they did best and that was enjoy themselves in the same way they did in every league and cup game. I was sorry to miss out on this but it would only be three weeks until the return to the Stade Felix Bollaert and I couldn't wait...and neither could they!
Sofoot.com article 20.5.15
Les Northern Lensois, ces Anglais Blood'n'Gold
Auparavant fan de Newcastle United, ce groupe d'Anglais a décidé de plaquer le foot brittanique, devenu trop friqué, policé et convenu, pour venir supporter le RC Lens. Et ce n'était pas pour le porte-monnaie de Mammadov. Belle intuition.
Au pays qui a inventé le football, et où l'on a coutume de supporter le club de sa ville natale, voire de son quartier, eux pourraient faire figure d'extraterrestres. Quand nombre de Frenchies vibrent aux exploits des stars de Man U, Man City, Chelsea ou encore Arsenal devant leur écran de TV, eux se branchent sur les matchs de la Ligue 1, et du RC Lens en particulier. Et tant pis s'ils sont parfois moqués ou chambrés par leurs compatriotes. Richard, Alex et Adrian - les plus actifs des Northern Lensois - peuvent les traiter de « glory hunting bastard », l'équivalent des footix en Angleterre. « Le foot anglais a vendu son âme au diable de l'argent, clame d'emblée Richard, instituteur de 45 ans et fondateur de ce groupe de fans sang et or d'outre-Manche. Désormais, il n'y a plus aucune ambiance dans les stades. »
Comme beaucoup de fans anglais qui ne se reconnaissent plus dans une Premier League régie par le fric, Richard et ses potes se sont tournés vers le foot amateur. Dorénavant, « when saturday comes », ils lèvent leurs pintes et entonnent des chants à la gloire de l'équipe de Whithley Bay, leur petite ville du Nord-Est de l'Angleterre proche de Newcastle, qui évolue en Division One de la Northern Football League, soit le 7e niveau du pays, à peine l'équivalent de la DH en France. « Il y a 250 supporters à chaque match, indique Richard. Là au moins, on chante et on s'amuse. Pas comme dans ces stades de Premiership, pleins mais silencieux, comme des bibilothèques. » Plus surprenant encore, ces anciens fans des Magpies ou des Rovers se sont amourachés du Racing Club de Lens. « J'étais en vacances en Gironde, raconte Richard dans un bon français. Je suis allé voir un match à Bordeaux, j'ai rencontré des fans de Lens, on a sympathisé, ils ont chanté pendant tout le match, une ambiance fantastique. J'ai enfin retrouvé l'ambiance de stade de ma jeunesse, quand on était tous debout dans les terraces et que l'on chantait pendant tout le match. » Le déclic.
Depuis plusieurs années, Richard a en effet déserté St James' Park. « Les fans de Newcastle ne chantent plus que quand ils gagnent. Et c'est partout pareil en Angleterre. Sauf peut-être à Crystal Palace, où tous les supporters se regroupent au même endroit et où il y a un leader pour les chants. » Surtout, il avoue ne plus pouvoir se payer de place au stade, surtout depuis qu'il est devenu deux fois papa : « Pour être abonné à St James' Park, il faut débourser 500 livres pour le moins cher (près de 700 euros, ndlr). À Arsenal, le moins cher est à 1000 livres. Seuls les hommes d'affaires peuvent s'offrir des abonnements. Et ils ne chantent pas, ils sont juste là pour du spectacle. C'est triste. » Richard est nostalgique de ces stades populaires « all-seater » des années 70-80. Sans ces hommes d'affaires que la Football Association a ciblé pour remplir les travées et éradiquer le hooliganisme : « Maintenant, les stades ne vibrent plus, les sous-classes de supporters se retrouvent dans les pubs pour regarder les matchs, c'est la seule tradition qui demeure. Mais attention, car les jeunes n'aiment pas le foot comme leurs aînés, ils préfèrent la Xbox. »
Alors, l'eldorado pour un fan anglais des « sous-classes » se situerait-il de l'autre côté de la Manche ? C'est en tout cas ce que pense Richard depuis qu'il a découvert Bollaert : « Même en Ligue 2, les matchs à Lens restent électriques, estime celui qui se déplace plusieurs fois par an pour soutenir les Sang et Or. On est tous debout dans la Marek, ça pousse, ça gueule, ça chante pendant 90 minutes. Mes amis anglais que j'ai emmenés ont tous voulu revenir. » Ces Britishtrouvent « émouvant » quand Bollaert entonne Les Corons, notamment Alex, dont la maman est ch'ti. Certes, ils avouent tous ne pas assister à un aussi bon football que sur leurs terres, mais « l'ambiance magnifique et la fierté des supporters » compensent le reste. « Nous sommes très fiers d'être acceptés par les supporters lensois, confie Richard. Ils sont très chaleureux et les Anglais les adorent quand ils viennent au Worldnet festival (rencontre internationale de supporters, ndlr) à Leeds et Preston chaque été. » De véritables amitiés sont nées entre eux. Et la passion de ces British pour Lens dépasse même le cadre du football : « Avant le match contre Monaco à Amiens, nous sommes allés supporter Boulogne-sur-Mer et le club belge de Courtrai. On a des copains du Nord dans ces clubs-là aussi. On a même fait un pique-nique tout en haut d'un terril. On aime cette région. »
La page Facebook UK Lens Division compte 70 likers. Les Northern Lensois comptent 165 membres. « Quelques Anglais qui ont habité sur Calais et d'autres qui ont rencontré des Lensois au Worldnet ou qui ont suivi les aventures de Lens en Europe à la télé il y a quelques années », explique le leader des Northern Lensois. Ils sont une dizaine à se déplacer régulièrement en France pour suivre le Racing. Dont Richard, abonné à France Football. Sur la Toile, ils commentent l'actualité du club artésien. Ils se réunissent pour regarder les matchs sur Internet. « On écoute aussi France Bleu Nord, mais on ne comprend pas très bien, surtout quand Christian(Palka, le commenteur vedette de la radio locale, ndlr) parle trop vite. » Ces Ch'tis so british ont désormais hâte que les Sang et Or retrouvent leur antre de Bollaert. Après tout, la L2, ça reste mieux que la Northern Football League. Et ce n'est pas Taylor Moore qui dira le contraire.
August 2015: Back to Bollaert!
We set off from near Boulogne at 9:30 to witness the parade and arrived without problem, finally parking in the car park in front of the steps that led to the Marek. The ground looked amazing nestling between the trees as the sun increased its temperature. It was going to be a hot one!
Heading off to the station, the family were in a good mood and were quite happy to be joining me as a surged to get everywhere quicker. I chatted briefly to Jonathan, the game's Capo as he headed to lead the parade along with a number of others who I had met at previous Worldnet tournaments. The girls had become used to this and simply carried on chatting amongst themselves as I 'networked'.
It had only seemed like five minutes since we had recovered from the trip back from our Summer holiday in France and I was setting off again. It was the overnight bus this time as everything had been booked late. Alex was to be joining me but he was travelling by Eurostar...thanks to shopping at Tesco, who offered him money off whenever he shopped there. Me? Our family shopped at Morrisons who offered vouchers for school gardening and money off petrol but not trains!
The bus ride down to London wasn't as easy as I had remembered to sleep on, as my head kept bouncing off the window every time the lens scarf I was using a pillow slipped from under me. Add to that my neighbour who kept nodding off then shouting every time he came back to reality before making wild jerking movements....Oh and the coach was hot! Damn Hot! This was not relaxing!
We headed to the inner sanctum that was only for invited guests of Gervais himself. Complimentary drinks, food and piano player...good job I had a shower before I left the hotel!
Bruno then took us on a tour of the parts of the VIP areas that were open and we had a chance to meet the great Captain Siko, saviour of the club after the Jean-Louis Garcia nonsense. He was an extremely modest man, especially when I reminded him of that fact. We also got to meet another famous former player, however the subsequent amounts of alcohol that were incurred that evening impaired my memory of his name...answers on a postcard please...Alex?
We also finally got to meet up with fellow Englishman Taylor Moore who, despite not getting onto the pitch for the second game out of three was still amazingly happy, in love with the club and proud that his younger brother was playing for the youth team. He also hinted his other brothers might be joining...could this be the beginning of a new dynasty at the club, akin to the Hazard clan (even though two of them played for Lille)? Let's hope so.
Pas besoin d’habiter la région pour être fan du Racing. Alex et Richard, deux Anglais, en sont la preuve vivante. À chaque déplacement, ils vivent ce qu’ils ont cherché en France et qu’ils ne retrouvent plus dans leur pays : la ferveur des supporters et l’ambiance des matches. Rencontre…
Finally arriving at our favourite Formula 1 inn, after a tour of Lens and the club shop of course, we soon took a taxi to La Loco where we joined by a lot of the lads from the teams that had played at Preston in the Worldnet tournament. They were very impressed with our handiwork the previous evening, once we had explained that it was a British holiday tradition. La Loco was soon awash with duster-wearing heads! Result!
Next stop, after enjoying the gastronomic delight that is Fricadelle (don't ask what is in it) Sandwich Americain, was Chez Muriel to pick up our tickets from the brilliant Pascal and Arnauld. Meeting both again was a delight as their knowledge of both the club and the region is second to none and they still liked nothing better than to share it with their visitors. Perfect hosts! While we were there, I managed to get my traditional pre-match photo taken with an away fan. I chatted to an Auxerre fan who was with his Lens-supporting mates. Had really been over two and a half since I had chased up a street in Arras in pursuit of one of his compatriots? The atmosphere at the bar was its usual chilled and friendly self.
Our final port of call was La Loco for a couple more beers and a Croque Monsieur. There, we were cornered by a well-tanked-up bloke; who was the same age as me, it turned out but obviously had had a far rougher paper round. He kept on telling me about how he loved Doncaster and kept asking me whether I liked Doncaster or not. This conversation was in French but nevertheless kept getting repeated every couple of minutes. The rest of the bar breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled up a chair next to me. Even my own friends, Mark and Andrew disappeared to the bar. I found myself trapped in a conversation of Groundhog Day proportions. Thankfully the sound of celebrating fans attracted his attention and once he headed off, we made our escape.
The only difficulty we could find was the lack of a visible friterie inside the stadium for our fricadelle/merguez americain. The friteries outside filled in nicely however.
While the rest of the stadium tried to cheer the team on, the Marek mostly stayed silent and firmly rooted to the seats they wished hadn't been installed for the Euro Championships.
Metz bodies were thrown at everything, a header was cleared off the line with the keeper nowhere and despite 13 shots on goal, the only effort that counted was Lalaina's effort in the first half. The Metz team celebrated their promotion by the narrowest of margins. Le Havre had managed 13 shots themselves and scored 5 goals. The need for a Lens striker was never more pressing. Finishing sixth, having scored only 39 goals in 38 games was a pretty amazing position although losing Chavarria had been a season-changing injury. The final four games he had missed only returned tonight's three points.
Who knows what next season will bring but needless to say we still had a fantastic night out before heading off to our rented flat for the night on the Rue Gambetta, Lens. This flat could well be receiving a return visit next season!
Amour consommé à Bordeaux
Comme beaucoup de fans anglais qui ne se reconnaissent plus dans une Premier League régie par le fric, Richard et ses potes se sont tournés vers le foot amateur. Dorénavant, « when saturday comes », ils lèvent leurs pintes et entonnent des chants à la gloire de l'équipe de Whithley Bay, leur petite ville du Nord-Est de l'Angleterre proche de Newcastle, qui évolue en Division One de la Northern Football League, soit le 7e niveau du pays, à peine l'équivalent de la DH en France. « Il y a 250 supporters à chaque match, indique Richard. Là au moins, on chante et on s'amuse. Pas comme dans ces stades de Premiership, pleins mais silencieux, comme des bibilothèques. » Plus surprenant encore, ces anciens fans des Magpies ou des Rovers se sont amourachés du Racing Club de Lens. « J'étais en vacances en Gironde, raconte Richard dans un bon français. Je suis allé voir un match à Bordeaux, j'ai rencontré des fans de Lens, on a sympathisé, ils ont chanté pendant tout le match, une ambiance fantastique. J'ai enfin retrouvé l'ambiance de stade de ma jeunesse, quand on était tous debout dans les terraces et que l'on chantait pendant tout le match. » Le déclic.
Depuis plusieurs années, Richard a en effet déserté St James' Park. « Les fans de Newcastle ne chantent plus que quand ils gagnent. Et c'est partout pareil en Angleterre. Sauf peut-être à Crystal Palace, où tous les supporters se regroupent au même endroit et où il y a un leader pour les chants. » Surtout, il avoue ne plus pouvoir se payer de place au stade, surtout depuis qu'il est devenu deux fois papa : « Pour être abonné à St James' Park, il faut débourser 500 livres pour le moins cher (près de 700 euros, ndlr). À Arsenal, le moins cher est à 1000 livres. Seuls les hommes d'affaires peuvent s'offrir des abonnements. Et ils ne chantent pas, ils sont juste là pour du spectacle. C'est triste. » Richard est nostalgique de ces stades populaires « all-seater » des années 70-80. Sans ces hommes d'affaires que la Football Association a ciblé pour remplir les travées et éradiquer le hooliganisme : « Maintenant, les stades ne vibrent plus, les sous-classes de supporters se retrouvent dans les pubs pour regarder les matchs, c'est la seule tradition qui demeure. Mais attention, car les jeunes n'aiment pas le foot comme leurs aînés, ils préfèrent la Xbox. »
« On a même fait un pique-nique tout en haut d'un terril »
Alors, l'eldorado pour un fan anglais des « sous-classes » se situerait-il de l'autre côté de la Manche ? C'est en tout cas ce que pense Richard depuis qu'il a découvert Bollaert : « Même en Ligue 2, les matchs à Lens restent électriques, estime celui qui se déplace plusieurs fois par an pour soutenir les Sang et Or. On est tous debout dans la Marek, ça pousse, ça gueule, ça chante pendant 90 minutes. Mes amis anglais que j'ai emmenés ont tous voulu revenir. » Ces Britishtrouvent « émouvant » quand Bollaert entonne Les Corons, notamment Alex, dont la maman est ch'ti. Certes, ils avouent tous ne pas assister à un aussi bon football que sur leurs terres, mais « l'ambiance magnifique et la fierté des supporters » compensent le reste. « Nous sommes très fiers d'être acceptés par les supporters lensois, confie Richard. Ils sont très chaleureux et les Anglais les adorent quand ils viennent au Worldnet festival (rencontre internationale de supporters, ndlr) à Leeds et Preston chaque été. » De véritables amitiés sont nées entre eux. Et la passion de ces British pour Lens dépasse même le cadre du football : « Avant le match contre Monaco à Amiens, nous sommes allés supporter Boulogne-sur-Mer et le club belge de Courtrai. On a des copains du Nord dans ces clubs-là aussi. On a même fait un pique-nique tout en haut d'un terril. On aime cette région. »
La page Facebook UK Lens Division compte 70 likers. Les Northern Lensois comptent 165 membres. « Quelques Anglais qui ont habité sur Calais et d'autres qui ont rencontré des Lensois au Worldnet ou qui ont suivi les aventures de Lens en Europe à la télé il y a quelques années », explique le leader des Northern Lensois. Ils sont une dizaine à se déplacer régulièrement en France pour suivre le Racing. Dont Richard, abonné à France Football. Sur la Toile, ils commentent l'actualité du club artésien. Ils se réunissent pour regarder les matchs sur Internet. « On écoute aussi France Bleu Nord, mais on ne comprend pas très bien, surtout quand Christian(Palka, le commenteur vedette de la radio locale, ndlr) parle trop vite. » Ces Ch'tis so british ont désormais hâte que les Sang et Or retrouvent leur antre de Bollaert. Après tout, la L2, ça reste mieux que la Northern Football League. Et ce n'est pas Taylor Moore qui dira le contraire.
Par Yannick Lefrère
Red Star and Creteil (h)
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| Packed onto the Eurotunnel and ready for the off! |
It was family holiday time and for the first time since August 2011 that the whole family would have the chance of sharing a Lens game with me. Since then, family holidays had failed to coincide with the Ligue 2 (and briefly 1) fixtures, despite my best efforts.
Unfortunately, as we set off for France, tickets still had not gone on sale. Thanks to the kindness of Pascal, who was away on a family holiday for the game, I was at least guaranteed a spot in the Marek but the rest of the girls didn't have places. Another search for places, reminiscent of the Bordeaux game in 2009, would have to take place.
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| Arnauld....Dude #1 |
My first stroke of good luck occurred the minute we began pitching our tent up near La Rochelle when Jas spotted the 62 (Lens region) number plate on the car opposite. The owner immediately came out to chat the second he spotted our Lens paraphernalia. I don't know who was more excited about meeting the other.
"....you are from Newcastle, " he said, "There are a lot of Lens fans there....?"
"Just me," I replied.
"Really? Are you the one from the Sofoot.com article? " I nodded. "It is like meeting a celebrity!" he joked.
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| Wot? No footie bars? No surprise but I always have hope! |
For the next few days we would take every opportunity to chat about Lens and the latest news, and some actual signings, before his family returned North. He also promised to see if he could get tickets for the rest of my family but couldn't promise anything.
The following Saturday was the first day of the season so after quickly finding a list of bars that had Beinsport I abandoned the family to look at the aquarium for some selfish dad-time. My first port of call was my best option as it was called the Sports Cafe. Unfortunately it was in the city's casino and one look at my Lens top was enough for the nice boys by the door to decide I wasn't the sort of clientelle they wanted so I set off with the help of google maps and their directions to the next bar on the list...an Irish Bar! Had to be a good sign?
With the sun beating down and a blistering 30 degree temperature proving slightly unhelpful in my frantic dash across, I ended up going from closed down bar to closed-until-6pm bar to "get away from our bar.... we don't like football here!" By the time half time arrived I had resigned myself to listening to the commentary from the club website. When will I learn about ligue 2 football + bars + me didn't work? Probably never - still I will keep trying.
The last 20 minutes of the game was spent wandering around La Rochelle, with an earplug in one ear listening to the commentary of a one-sided 0-0 draw, whilst searching with the girls for an ice cream shop of choice: slightly easier to do! Ernest le Glacier it had to be...and a fitting reward for my attempts at finding a bar. Relieved that Lens had escaped from Metz with a goalless draw, and could even have won it, my thoughts shifted to the following week's game and how Arnauld was doing with his search for tickets.
A couple of days later, a text arrived from Arnauld and he had managed to come up trumps with prized tickets for the game in the Marek. What a stroke of luck it had been meeting him! I was overjoyed even if the girls were not sure about going in with the "Mental heads". A great compliment to the Lens fans from Jasmine there, I thought!
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| Morning in Equihen Plage! |
Match day finally arrived and when I finally stepped out of our tent in Equihen Plage near Boulogne (I had been awake since 6am) the sun was beginning to heat things up nicely...if a little too nicely.
We set off from near Boulogne at 9:30 to witness the parade and arrived without problem, finally parking in the car park in front of the steps that led to the Marek. The ground looked amazing nestling between the trees as the sun increased its temperature. It was going to be a hot one!
Heading off to the station, the family were in a good mood and were quite happy to be joining me as a surged to get everywhere quicker. I chatted briefly to Jonathan, the game's Capo as he headed to lead the parade along with a number of others who I had met at previous Worldnet tournaments. The girls had become used to this and simply carried on chatting amongst themselves as I 'networked'.
The square outside of La Loco was a sea of red and yellow and the crowd kept building as my friend Loulou and Jonathan took it in turns, hanging out of the bar window to get everyone jumping. Finally the parade set off but we remained at the bar as hunger had taken hold of the family and wouldn't let go...no contest for the parade!
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| A happy , well-fed,family |
Holly had brought along a gluten-free baguette and the La Loco staff were kindly willing to prepare her a gluten-free tuna sandwich while Odessa (and I) were finally able to lay to bed the nightmares of the MacDonald's fillet of fish. At last we had found a place in the town where we were all happy!
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| Is this the male toilets? |
After picking up the tickets from Arnauld and Pascal's friend Denis we headed into the Marek. It took a bit of getting used to the new ticket entry system but eventually we were in and it was a relief to be out of the sun that was beating down strongly now. We wandered through the newly laid-out stand and it became apparent that there was now no chance for anyone sneaking into the Marek having bought a Xerxes ticket as they now had separate sections with tall, metal walls to keep ticket holders apart. With the Marek once again all season ticket, we would have to think of a plan C or D if we were to join in the fun...
We managed to get a spot next to the barrier at the Delacourt end and so the flag was attached to the fence. It was also clear that the sun was going to be a big factor as the girls began to wilt even before the game started. They perked up as the teams entered and the Lensois was sung...
After the fervour of the players entrance and reception, the Lens team that had only four returnees from the previous year, and disgracefully no Taylor Moore, struggled to match the occasion and it was visitors Red Star who were making the running and showing great ability in falling over to earn themselves a string of undeserved (IMHO) freekicks while also getting a number of Lens players booked for their innocuous tackles. There was no such thing as a homer ref today!
Disbelief soon followed when Red Star scored a spectacular freekick from a similarly dodgy freekick. Yet the Lens crowd continued to cheer them on...as expected. However, as the sun continued to beat down, both players and fans found the going harder and it looked more unlikely that Lens would create many chances.
Out of the players on show only new boy Besle looked to have the composure and ability to deal with the situation and although Valdivia beavered about, he didn't seem to be able to create anything against a Red Star defence that now sat back and watched Lens' laboured attacks. A header that just slipped wide of the post from another new boy, Autret, seemed to be all that Lens could offer before a brief scramble in front of the goal ended up with nothing.
Jasmine and Holly were by now baking and even a pint of water each couldn't do much. The chances of this kind of weather in future matches would hardly by an issue yet the lack of shade from the sun was one my girls obviously would have to mention to any available health and safety officer...along with Lens' performance but that would probably be a different department: mental health.
Things needed to change and on came Nomanjanahary to be joined later by another newbie Scarramozino. Finally the team, and Autret in particular, woke up as both wingers began to bomb down the wing more frequently. The referee continued to be conned by the dives of the Parisians and his book began to fill up with Len players' names. To the crowds annoyance, he booked the Lens players for diving too...definitely not a homer...or even any good.
Finally the ground erupted when Autret controlled a ball before lashing a fine shot past the keeper from just inside the penalty area. with renewed vigour the home team attacked, however it was still worrying how often Red Star's tricky wingers managed to work their way into space. A late winner for either team didn't look out of the question. There was great relief from my lot as the referee blew the final whistle: more from the extreme heat rather than the thought of Red Star scoring and they headed straight for the cover of the trees outside as heat stroke and dehydration took hold. I had to cancel my post-match pub meetings as the family recovered. If only the team's performance could have been matched by the occasion ...
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| After a busy, hot and tiring day... relaxing in Les Jardins D'Arcadie |
Once the girls had recovered we headed to a restaurant that we had a booking with. With Holly unable to eat gluten, meals out have to be organised in advance. This time we opted for a restaurant on the outskirts of the town that promised to offer gluten-free options. They were true to their word and more.
We felt decidedly underdressed as we entered the car park. Although we hadn't booked until 7pm we decided to spend an hour recovering in the grounds and when the owner came at to see who we were tormenting the cat that was wandering around the flowerbeds, he was straight away impressed with our battered Lens-decorated Citroen Picasso and he revealed himself to have been at the match today as well. He insisted on taking our photo with it and by the end of our meal, his photo had received over 250 likes on Facebook. The meal itself was thoroughly enjoyed by all of us, which was saying something with teenage girls. When it was time to go, the owner, Bruno announced that since I was coming back for Friday's game that me and Alex would be his VIP guests. I was so blown away by this I got caught speeding.
This trip had been another success for the generosity of Lens fans...not only had Pascal offered me his ticket, Arnaud had found me the others but to top it all, Bruno, had offered a dream chance for me to visit my Mekka as a VIP.... I could hardly wait...I was an excited child again!
August 2015: VIPs v Créteil
It had only seemed like five minutes since we had recovered from the trip back from our Summer holiday in France and I was setting off again. It was the overnight bus this time as everything had been booked late. Alex was to be joining me but he was travelling by Eurostar...thanks to shopping at Tesco, who offered him money off whenever he shopped there. Me? Our family shopped at Morrisons who offered vouchers for school gardening and money off petrol but not trains!
Having recovered from moving a wall in the garden and then building a pond with Odessa, I was finally able to get packed and set off at 10:30, after enjoying a celebratory meal for Holly's exam results. The rest of the house were heading for bed as I closed the front door and there was a big part of me wondering what I was doing. When the Metro in front broke down with 25 minutes to my bus leaving, I wondered even more as I raced to find a taxi into Newcastle.
The bus ride down to London wasn't as easy as I had remembered to sleep on, as my head kept bouncing off the window every time the lens scarf I was using a pillow slipped from under me. Add to that my neighbour who kept nodding off then shouting every time he came back to reality before making wild jerking movements....Oh and the coach was hot! Damn Hot! This was not relaxing!
Arriving in Lens 16 hours later I had to find Alex, check in at our Campanile before I finally could shower away the sweat and aches from the journey. Bruno came to collect us because we were late for our date with the press. Complimentary beers from Bruno certainly helped any aches and pains. The two reporters from La Voix du Nord who met at Bruno's restaurant seemed pleased with their photos and our answers after we had twittered on to them about our Lens traditions: sending each other pictures of yellow and red objects, planning journeys at the start of the season for April or May, the chats we have during live feeds from the games and finally my red and yellow trainers and socks: they were most impressed...but in a professional way: like a scientist studying a strange species.
Finally it was time to head to the stadium but Bruno had one more trick up his sleeve with a meeting with Club President and Mr Lens himself, Gervais Martel! Also, they had arranged for me to receive a shirt with my name on: you had to scrape me off the ceiling: could this evening get any better?
Every turn we were greeted by young ladies in black cocktail dresses and red or yellow neck scarves, all welcoming you with a friendly "Bonjour!"
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| Excuse me....what are they? |
We headed to the inner sanctum that was only for invited guests of Gervais himself. Complimentary drinks, food and piano player...good job I had a shower before I left the hotel!
Next it was up to the seats and the Marek sounded even better from here and the white padded leather was certainly a change from the plastic bucket seats we were used to. Only half of the VIP seats were ready so our part of the Lepagnot looked a bit empty but the rest of the stadium was full. Only the top tier of the Trannin end had not been opened. The Lens fans had got behind the team and the club now more than their last drop into the depths of Ligue 2 when crowds struggled to break the 15000 level.
The team responded in a way they hadn't the previous weekend and went on the attack straight away. They were rewarded when Christian Bekamenga deflected the ball past the visiting keeper. Alex and I leapt about as if we were on the Marek while around us the celebrations were still in evidence but in a slightly calmer fashion. The visitors, who had won their first two games of the season, were on the back foot and it would have been even better if Nomanjanahary hadn't had his double effort saved by the keeper then the post.
More drink and food arrived in the interval as we waved our VIP wristbands at the be-scarfed ladies in cocktail dresses. We felt like Wayne and Garth in Wayne's World flashing their laminates as they sent off backstage at the Alice Cooper concert.
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| Selfies with our buddie, Gervais, in the background. |
In the second half, Lens tired and let Creteil back in. A slow pass out of defence was chased down for Pereira to score and the nervousness returned to the team. Not that the fans allowed that to worry them as they continued to sing their hearts out.
However at one point the stadium held its breath as a mistake in the Lens defence allowed Créteil's Pereira a run on goal. Delle, in the Lens goal was caught in two minds and the forward burst past him before rolling the ball towards the empty net. The pessimists in the crowd, myself included, expected it to nestle into the four corner of the net but...miraculously it trickled past both posts and to safety. Although, at the final whistle the fans whistled their disapproval, Lens still were unbeaten and improving with each game: all they had to do now was play for the full game and not run out of juice after 75 minutes.
Disappointed, the players forgot to thank the fans before they headed for the dressing room but once the Marek had sung "Where are the Lens players?" or a rough translation of that, they re-emerged to massive applause and were relieved of their shirts by the grateful throng. One lad in front of us even ended up with a pair of shorts...not sure I would have gone that far.........of course I would have!
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| Caught on camera, Alex and I applaud the players off... |
Bruno then took us on a tour of the parts of the VIP areas that were open and we had a chance to meet the great Captain Siko, saviour of the club after the Jean-Louis Garcia nonsense. He was an extremely modest man, especially when I reminded him of that fact. We also got to meet another famous former player, however the subsequent amounts of alcohol that were incurred that evening impaired my memory of his name...answers on a postcard please...Alex? |
| Alex in VIP room number 3 |
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| Alex managed to get his friend to smile.... mine wasn't quite so helpful...was it the beard? |
We also finally got to meet up with fellow Englishman Taylor Moore who, despite not getting onto the pitch for the second game out of three was still amazingly happy, in love with the club and proud that his younger brother was playing for the youth team. He also hinted his other brothers might be joining...could this be the beginning of a new dynasty at the club, akin to the Hazard clan (even though two of them played for Lille)? Let's hope so. |
| The inner sanctum. Always the last to leave....but what a night! Glad to say the pianist kept going! |
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| A fond farewell to an amazing ground! |
We walked back with Bruno and our new other best friend Jean Philippe, manager of Bruno's restaurants. J-P even had time to help a drunk who had been sleeping soundly on the pavement until he was awoken by the combined efforts of JP and the lady from a nearby shop. The ambulance soon arrived to take him away and allow him to escape their attentions.
We bid our farewells after an amazing evening and then met up with Jeremie who accompanied us to our final port of call: La Loco. The evening finished two and a half hours later in the best possible fashion.
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| Satisfied and happy! |
Voix du Nord Article
RC Lens: comment deux Anglais sont devenus fans absolus des Sang et Or!
PUBLIÉ LE 19/08/2015
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| Merci Taylor Moore....class act! |
S’il y a bien quelque chose d’aussi sacré que la tasse de thé au pays de sa Majesté, c’est bien le sport. Ballon ovale ou ballon rond, Richard Stephenson a choisi son camp depuis sa prime enfance. Supporter inconditionnel de Newcastle, il s’est petit à petit détourné des stades anglais pour supporter le RC Lens. Pas parce que les frites étaient plus croustillantes et la bière plus fraîche en France qu’Outre-Manche (c’est une évidence). Non, plutôt une histoire d’attitude et d’ambiance dans les tribunes. Et surtout l’histoire d’une rencontre d’abord virtuelle via Facebook.
Grand-père mineur à Grenay
De l’autre côté de l’écran, Alex Halls, né en Angleterre d’une mère originaire de Grenay. «Mon grand-père était mineur ; même s’il n’allait pas voir les matches du Racing, il en parlait toujours. » Normal alors qu’Alex gère depuis York (au nord de l’Angleterre) une page de fans anglais (expatriés ou non) du Racing (RC Lens UK division) : « Au départ j’étais seul membre du groupe et puis Richard est arrivé. » Autant dire que les deux se sont bien trouvés. Difficile aujourd’hui de les séparer au petit jeu de qui est le plus grand fan, ils ont chacun leur manière de le faire savoir. À Alex sur le bras droit le tatouage avec les trois lettres RCL, à Richard la voiture anglaise aux couleurs du Racing. L’amour du maillot les réunit tout au long de l’année et plus encore comme vendredi dernier quand ils peuvent traverser la Manche pour assister à un match. Si Alex se contente du maillot, Richard est plus démonstratif : chaussettes sang et or (cadeau de sa femme, qui a bien compris qu’elle devrait faire avec la passion de son fan de mari), lacets aux deux couleurs… et montre avec un morceau de bracelet jaune et un autre rouge. « C’est la montre de nos dix ans de mariage… J’ai acheté deux bracelets. Maintenant ma femme dit que c’est une montre de clown. » Mais Richard, instituteur dans la vie, a plus d’un tour dans son sac. Il s’amuse encore à raconter comment il avait obtenu l’autorisation de repeindre sa salle de classe et avait surpris sa directrice quand elle avait découvert le résultat… Sang et Or. « Depuis on me change souvent de classe. »
Un maillot à son nom
Chaque déplacement (deux à trois dans la saison) a un prix, mais à chaque fois c’est la même émotion. Le public, les chants, la communion avec les joueurs. Tout ce que l’Anglais ne retrouvait plus dans les stades de son pays et qu’il a trouvé dans son nouveau club. Via Internet, les deux amis suivent les matchs, communiquent avec une communauté encore plus large les dernières infos du Racing. Et sur Facebook, la rencontre avec Gervais Martel et Éric Sikora à Lens-Créteil a fait son petit effet. Richard et Alex sont aux anges !
Friday April 1st 2016 - Lens v Metz
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| The Bay Boys on Euro tour for the first time! |
The moment I returned from our first trip to Lens in 2010 with Holly and Jasmine, I had been telling anyone who would listen how amazing the whole experience had been. My friends had humoured me and used supportive phrases such as:
"That sounds good.."
"You seem to have had a good time"
"Really? Get the drinks in."
Silly Andrew had taken the plunge and thoroughly enjoyed himself two years earlier and finally we had convinced my good pal The Boy Mark (from www.wbayblogger.blogspot.co.uk fame no less!) to accompany the veteran Sillyboy and I to Lens and then Kortrijk (Silly's favourite team). This had taken a great deal of sweet-talking to his good wife who had decided that some peace and quiet from him might be quite an attractive and pleasant proposition so our first European trip away with him was born.
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| Border Security Sorted! |
For the first time, we decided to try the route from Hull to Zeebrugge to cut down on the driving since Hull was two and a half hours drive away from us and Zeebrugge was an hour and a half from Lens. The only down side was two nights spent on the ferry but surely our talented trio would make the journey fly by...?
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| How he laughed... |
As the weekend drew nearer, the tragic terrorist attacks of first Paris then Brussels had Silly worried that we could be targets and I was banned by him from posting anything to my Lens friends to say we were coming. A little bit of reassurance was needed by him but eventually he felt a bit more relaxed about coming. Life must go on, we told him and that meant not thinking the worst about the fact that we would be travelling to countries that had had terrorist attacks. We talked about how it had been during the 70s and 80s when the IRA were active; how life then had carried on.
Yes, there had been bombings.
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| How we laughed..... |
Yes, there had been bomb scares.
Yes, there had been increased security at events and ports.
But our trip to see a Ligue 2 game and a Belgian playoff game would hardly feature high on a list of ISIS targets, Mark and I reassured him.
At Hull ferry port, amused himself with Snapchat an app that Mark and I, as OAPs are stilll unwilling to join in with. It amused him though and kept his mind off terrorist worries!
The night was split into three sections. the first of which was listening to an old guy on the piano pumping out 60s and 70s hits whilst wearing a 'pork pie' hat. We decorated yellow dusters with the Northern Lensois logo and wrote little messages from England as we chilled in the 'lounge'. Predictably, one member of the group wrote about the recent Adam Johnson trial and also tested his design skills to the max with some anatomical drawings so I decided to call the creative session closed after we had completed 12 of the 16 dusters. Needless to say the drinks flowed fairly freely all evening so, eventually, we decided it was time to venture downstairs to the disco where they were thrashing out not only hits of the 60s and 70s but also....the 80s!
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| Early morning and ready for Lens! |
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| Creative genius! |
It wasn't until nearly midnight that the disco started, and the Jam was played. Mark and I strutted our stuff for a while but it had all been too much for Andrew, , and he soon headed off to the cabin: no stamina the youth of the day!
He was to be followed quite closely by Mark and I. The fact that there was only ourselves and some lads heading over to Belgium for the Flanders bike race left in the bar meant the atmosphere wasn't quite so kicking. The final section of the journey, sleep, beckoned us.
After leaving the ferry, the Belgium passport control officer in the booth spotted the Lens shirts Mark and I were wearing and asked us if we were: "Schhports fairns?" A great introduction to the country and the commencement of our DIY course in Flemish. Silly, it has to be noted, still wasn't joining in: despite bringing a Kortrijk shirt with him to wear the next day!
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| New old boy band photo? |
"I don't wear football shirts...." he pleaded. Yeah, whatever!
Finally arriving at our favourite Formula 1 inn, after a tour of Lens and the club shop of course, we soon took a taxi to La Loco where we joined by a lot of the lads from the teams that had played at Preston in the Worldnet tournament. They were very impressed with our handiwork the previous evening, once we had explained that it was a British holiday tradition. La Loco was soon awash with duster-wearing heads! Result!
Next stop, after enjoying the gastronomic delight that is Fricadelle (don't ask what is in it) Sandwich Americain, was Chez Muriel to pick up our tickets from the brilliant Pascal and Arnauld. Meeting both again was a delight as their knowledge of both the club and the region is second to none and they still liked nothing better than to share it with their visitors. Perfect hosts! While we were there, I managed to get my traditional pre-match photo taken with an away fan. I chatted to an Auxerre fan who was with his Lens-supporting mates. Had really been over two and a half since I had chased up a street in Arras in pursuit of one of his compatriots? The atmosphere at the bar was its usual chilled and friendly self.
The same could not be said for the security at the turnstiles. When we arrived through the turnstiles there was the traditional search. So, in order to assist them, I pulled out a rolled up Newcastle United shirt I had brought for one of the lads from La Loco. This completely changed things. Suddenly I was threatening! Here I was dressed in Lens shirt, hat, home-made Lens Union Jack and duster hat and I was being told that I was going to cause trouble with another club's shirt: not even a French shirt!
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| Proud of you boys! #Lensfans |
"But I'm a Lens fan. I don't want trouble!" I protested, in French as I was sent off to see the senior steward. Andrew came over to me and asked what was happening and he was sent over to see the CRS sniffer dog. The senior steward then came over, slightly bemused and asked what was the problem to which I replied "No problem..." and wandered off to see Andrew who was being eyed up by a nervous looking CRS dog handler with a machine gun...
"You like dog?" he was asked in English.
"Yes, I love dogs!" Andrew replied with a nervous smile and bemused manner. The dog itself appeared to Andrew to be "evasive but happy" as it sniffed around him for....something and eventually... in the same way Andrew just wandered off once it had lost interest in him. Both of us wondered whether they had actually thought we had done or would do anything wrong or not.
We certainly were none the wiser!
We were joined in the Marek by Jeremie and straight away he hit it off with the others. At first the atmosphere seemed a bit flat, despite the Marek's best efforts: perhaps because of the last few results that had seen Lens slip behind in the chase for third spot. At the start of the match they had stood in seventh, five points off Le Havre in third. Defeat away to second placed Nancy had combined with draws at home to Clermont and away to Laval to make chances of promotion look decidedly tricky. However more than 25000 fans had still turned up. The third best attendance of the day in France.
The Marek carried on regardless and the lads joined in, in their own way, to add to the noise level. Things had simmered along gently with Auxerre having an effort tipped over the crossbar by young goalkeeping starlet Vachoux but in the 38th minute the stadium erupted. A great ball from Chavarria was taken down perfectly by Autret, who advanced on goal before slotting the ball in the gap between keeper and post. Lens were ahead! The next thing we knew we were hurtling down the steps, everyone trying to stay upright as a good old search from the 1970s and 80s swept us forward. Our friend the crowd surfer, and his friend, passed us by on their way to the bar/toilet/friterie soon after as the atmosphere picked up.
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| Getting tense out there! |
A certain goal by Bourigeaud was foiled by a defender pulling his arm. Whether the Auxerre defender deserved to be sent off was an argument for another day but sent off he was and a penalty was awarded. After a long nerve-racking wait Wylan Cyprien stopped up to take the kick and after a shuffle, his effort low to the keeper's right was saved. Instead of getting down-hearted, the Marek picked up the pace. The fact that Lens had only scored more than one goal this season on four occasions was not even a consideration.
Into the second half and Lens pushed towards the visiting goal as Auxerre struggled to cope with the pressure but Lens just couldn't score. In fact throughout this season they have struggled to score that second goal. As a result they have drawn 13 of their games: the majority of them 1-1 after being ahead failing to press home their advantage. I was almost resigned to the fact that this was to be our fate tonight. To make matters worse Auxerre seemed to sense this fact too and began creating their own chances.
But no! A corner was played to Bourigeaud, who whipped the ball through to the back post where the towering frame of Abdoul Ba drifted in. The ball bounced in front of him as he swung to connect before hitting the underside of his thigh and squirming over the line. Andrew had watched the previous occasion Jeremie, Mark and I had been sent hurtling but not taken note. The delighted crowd surged forward again and he ended up at the bottom of a pile of bodies somewhere to our right.
The atmosphere throughout the stadium changed as a mini-carnival began. We were also delighted to report that one of our hats, made by Andrew, which had 'tigres rouge' written on it, had made it onto the leaders' tower. It had all been worth it! A final goal a minute before the end was the perfect ending to the game and mirrored my first ever score at Stade Bollaert (Boulogne 3-0). Mark's debut magic had worked in the same way Andrew's had done when he witnessed Lens beating Niort 2-0.
The mood back at Chez Muriel was elated. Even if they didn't get promoted, this was still a memorable game. As the cars passed, each one shouted, waved scarves and flags and beeped their horns. Enjoying these continental celebrations, we stood outside Chez Muriel on a warm April night. This result had given Lens some of their pride back.
Our final port of call was La Loco for a couple more beers and a Croque Monsieur. There, we were cornered by a well-tanked-up bloke; who was the same age as me, it turned out but obviously had had a far rougher paper round. He kept on telling me about how he loved Doncaster and kept asking me whether I liked Doncaster or not. This conversation was in French but nevertheless kept getting repeated every couple of minutes. The rest of the bar breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled up a chair next to me. Even my own friends, Mark and Andrew disappeared to the bar. I found myself trapped in a conversation of Groundhog Day proportions. Thankfully the sound of celebrating fans attracted his attention and once he headed off, we made our escape.
Our final act of the evening took place as I heard my voice being called by an Englishman. A figure was running after us. It only turned out to be England Under 19 Captain Taylor Moore...shouting out for me! Definitely one memory to boost my ego...what a night! What a celebratory!
I would sleep well tonight!
Friday 13th May - Lens v Metz
No superstitious thoughts had entered my head during the planning of this trip since it was Friday the 13th. I made sure I stayed well clear of any scraggly, sword wielding, masked men called Jason as I took an early morning taxi to Newcastle Central Station. Luckily my driver was called Norman (or so it said on my text message).
Meeting Alex and Adrian at York, it all seemed quite civilised with the sun shining. Just to prove the point that Adrian knew everyone, everywhere, he bumped into someone he knew from York...even though he lived in Lancashire.
It was our first trip together since Niort in 2014. How the times had changed, a promotion defining victory then had seemed to all like the return of the glory days. With Mammadov's millions to back the team everything in the garden had been rosy. How times had changed.
Tonight's game was a dead rubber after three defeats in three games had put paid to promotion. A Beckamenga-inspired run-in by Metz had virtually clinch third spot with a 4-0 victory at a distinctly unimpressive Dijon, who were themselves already promoted and seemed to quite like the idea of Lens in Ligue 2. How Beckamenga had suddenly managed eights goals in 16 games after recording only one goal in 14 starts for Lens was anybody's guess. Suffice to say he was going to get some stick tonight. My wander around La Rochelle on the first day of the season searching for a bar to watch the first game of the season seemed a long way off. The 0-0 draw at Metz, despite being a great result, was also the start of a winless run that had seen les Sang et Or drop to 19th before victory away to Valenciennes, at the end of September, had begun the climb up the table.
Apart from the great company, tonight was about defeating an old enemy and possibly depriving them of third spot. It would, however, take a Le Havre victory at home to Bourg en Bresse and a seven goal swing to keep Metz down. Stranger things had happened!
We were advised to get there early as the new electronic barriers were still causing problems and for tonight's 36000+ sellout crowd there could be more difficulties and delays.
The only difficulty we could find was the lack of a visible friterie inside the stadium for our fricadelle/merguez americain. The friteries outside filled in nicely however.
Once inside it turned out that our expected 90 minute chant-a-thon would be delayed because the Marek was on strike. It seems that the French authorities have responded to recent terrorist attacks by only banning football fans from travelling. So Lens fans have been banned from visiting a number of grounds this season: hardly la liberté that the French are so keen on protecting. The only reasoning behind these bans seems to be in clubs saving themselves the wages for a few extra stewards.
The aftermath of the trip to Le Havre was still rumbling on in May, when there was trouble between over-zealous CRS (heavy police boys) and Lens fans before the game in January. Testimonies of a good number of Lens fans stated that the CRS herded men, women and children using CS gas and when the fans tried to stop them or escape the cordon they were arrested. There was also a ban on the fans' favourite tifos at the Stade Bollaert : always a chance for them to demonstrate their devotion and pride towards the club. It also wasn't wise to get them started on the season ticket prices for the following season....
They were not happy bunnies!
While the rest of the stadium tried to cheer the team on, the Marek mostly stayed silent and firmly rooted to the seats they wished hadn't been installed for the Euro Championships.
In spite of this weird atmosphere the team were playing with freedom and passion. They battered Metz, who barely looked like a team on the verge of Ligue 1.
On his last appearance for Lens, Lalaïna Nomenjanahary latched onto a through ball and perfectly slotted past the advancing Metz keeper. There was celebration but still no singing. At the front of the Marek, fifty fans held up a protest banner in black writing so that it obscured both their view and that of the front few rows.
This carried on throughout the first half as one of the leaders blared out the reasons for their protests, which Alex had to translate, and kept promising to everyone....
"Wait for the 46th minute...wait for the 46th minute..." He said it often enough that even Adrian and I could understand him in the end.
There was no Les Corons as the players came out but on 45:30 a countdown began as red and yellow flags were passed out.
"Don't wave them until the 46th minute!" we were repeatedly warned and so on 46 minutes the Marek erupted with flares, flags and basically.... fun.
The mood improved as news filtered through of Le Havre's progress against 10-man Bourg. They were doing their part as their score increased ....from 1-0 to 5-0 with eight minutes to go. The first club to ban Lens fans from travelling in 2014, after their own fans had caused difficulties on their way back from the return fixture, Metz were one goal away from not being promoted. Equal on goal difference and points with Le Havre: they looked shell-shocked. They had expected an easy stroll and were now hanging on. Beckamenga had disappeared at half time; an event that had been greeted with great delight by the home fans and they had also used up all of their substitutes.
Metz bodies were thrown at everything, a header was cleared off the line with the keeper nowhere and despite 13 shots on goal, the only effort that counted was Lalaina's effort in the first half. The Metz team celebrated their promotion by the narrowest of margins. Le Havre had managed 13 shots themselves and scored 5 goals. The need for a Lens striker was never more pressing. Finishing sixth, having scored only 39 goals in 38 games was a pretty amazing position although losing Chavarria had been a season-changing injury. The final four games he had missed only returned tonight's three points. 
Who knows what next season will bring but needless to say we still had a fantastic night out before heading off to our rented flat for the night on the Rue Gambetta, Lens. This flat could well be receiving a return visit next season! |
| Thank you La Reinitas! |
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| A night out with some great company! Thanks Mac! |
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