5th August 2016 - Tours (h)

There was no return to Ligue 1 the previous year but at least the Reserves managed to maintain their place in CFA 1 thanks to a great run of form that included a 1-0 win at Dieppe on the final day of the season and Troyes B being deducted a point for some reason...
The summer though was the calmest it had been since a certain Azerbaijani appeared on the scene promising Lens fans the moon - Ibrahimovic....Ronaldo....why not? 
Because he ran out of money. That's why!
His heart may have been in the right place at the start and Hafiz had rescued the club at the time but the complete silence from him and the constant chaos that the club lurched from and to on a regular basis hardly endeared him to the fans. Finally a ruling in Paris ended the relationship and the Solferino group moved in. Although a bit of a mystery, the reassuring part was that Champions' League runner up Athletico Madrid had a part of the purchase. Ignacio Aguillo, a member of their board of directors was member of the shadowy consortium so you couldn't help but dream that there might be a happy ending for us. 
In the same fashion that Kamboare had arrived with an influx of new players, so too did Alain Casanova. the old guard of Valdivia, Chavarria disappeared off onto the horizon, as did Nomanjenahary, Cyprien and Gbamin. Actual money, however was paid by Lens for a player as Englishman John Bostock arrived, who certainly had the English Lens fans talking. This news was tempered by the non-appearance of England U19 international Taylor Moore who we all assumed would be considered by the incoming manager. However, after leading the young lions to the Euro Championship finals, he had unfortunately found himself unwanted...despite being given the number 6 shirt at the club again. Let's hope the club don't regret him leaving...if he does in fact leave. I doubt we could afford to buy him back in the same way Manchester United paid £89million for Paul Pogba...somehow.

Both Alex and I had managed to combine a holiday away with our good ladies and a Lens game. In so doing, it might make it easier to get away another time, in theory, however it also meant the ladies would not be so happy being shoved about in the Marek. Swings and roundabouts on that one!
Luckily, our good friend Bruno came to our rescue as he organised for us to have tickets in the l'Epagnot: surely worth bonus points!
Arriving at the Simply Market to collect our tickets, we asked a completely stressed checkout girl if she knew who was running the reception ...it was her...not the man in the shirt and tie who was strolling about looking important whilst scowling a lot. 
Eventually she was able to get a breather and fetch us our coveted envelope. 
Off to La Loco to meet the others and as we sat having a small beer, the lads on the table struggled with the idea that we could be so knowledgeable about Lens and be English. They insisted on buying us all a drink as they questioned us. Finally, they agreed to a photo with me wearing a t-shirt that my mother in law had had made for me. She has shown as much disbelief as my new friends have towards my love for Lens. Quality!

Traditional Lens wall photo: the new Abba?

Destination: the bar!

The ladies enjoy hospitality!

Unsurprisingly there were no problems getting in: a quick search of the bags and quick frisk but no sign of any CRS or dogs. All very civilised.
There were also hot dogs, chips, various meats, cheeses...and alcohol. Having nominated Odessa as driver for the evening, I was able to take full advantage of the free bar. Unfortunately, the whole novelty of the afternoon meant my pre-match focus was not on the game. I was far too relaxed: I predicted that we would win 2-0, no problem. A Bostock through ball split the visiting defence and when the Tours keeper was caught on the edge of his box, all it needed was an excellent control and whipped shot from Bourigeaud which fair flew into the net. It all seemed odds on for Odessa's first win.

I was far too confident and heading for a fall. This soon arrived. New signing Fofana stretched for a through ball and a Tours forward took full advantage, plunging to the ground. 
The referee seemed to take great delight in waving a red card in the Lens player's face but still I didn't believe we were going to throw it away. My plan was simple - soak up the pressure then hit them on the break late on. Ob's a good'un!
A Tours back-heel was followed by their equaliser; just five minutes before half time. Thankfully, a selection of cream cakes gave us fortitude for the second 45 but just nine minutes into the second period it became obvious that it would take more than that as the Lens defence allowed two free headers for the visitors to take the lead. 
Finally I woke up from my contented bubble to the distinct possibility that we could lose. There was no room for sentimentality. Tours may have introduced me to French football all those years ago but that didn't make a difference. My mind cleared. I was focused. Alex, in his very smart shirt and trousers combo, and I joined in with the Marek's chants, along with a small child in front of us who seemed to enjoy annoying his doting dad. 
The tiring Bourigeaud was soon replaced by new boy Kévin Fortuné and the team seemed invigorated. Fortune had a shot tipped over the bar and crosses drifted past the posts without anyone getting a foot in. Finally, in the 92nd minute Another Bostock cross ended up in front of SuperKév. The young prodigy from Béziers wasted no time in volleying home. I'd like to say I had never doubted it for a minute but I had. One final chance followed and the Stevo family had a new 2-2 draw to look back on. 

"Fortuné's on fire, your defence is terrified!"

There was just time for a visit to La Loco....

Friday 13th May - Lens v Metz (h)

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!

A night out with some great company!
Thanks Mac!

2016 April - Kortrijk v Mouscron

It was no surprise that Andrew was most excited about the visit to Kortrijk, even though he had thoroughly enjoyed the Lens game the previous day and we had all once again been made to feel unbelievably welcome. The simple reason was down to language and the fact that the Kortrijk sang most of the songs in English including their version of You'll never walk alone." 
The day started with a run for Mark and I around the terrils 11/19 near Loos-en-Gohelle: a token contribution to our efforts to become fitter. Andrew walked along and we met him at the top of the largest of the two hills. The terrils (slag heaps in old English) never cease to amaze me, both in their size and number around the region: tributes to the endeavours of the region's miners. It was just over a month since the 110th anniversary of the Courrières mining disaster in which 1100 miners died underground, an event that some said saw the creation of a professional Racing Club de Lens:    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Courri%C3%A8res_mine_disaster
The number of terrils dotted around the region serve as a testimony to the importance mining to the region, in the same way mining and shipbuilding was to Newcastle. The fact that unemployment in the region is one of the highest in the country also highlights how the region has struggled to recover from its demise.
Arriving in Kortrijk, our taxi driver was already waiting patiently for us in the form of our friend Kim. Kim had also brought along his supply of Kortrijk shirts to add colour to the occasion. We were joined by his friend Fred who preferred the Next man-about-town look to the full-on footie fest apparel. Andrew, the man who doesn't wear football shirts, was delighted to be wearing his Kortrijk shirt as we toured the funfair that had descended on the town. Stopping at a bar, we were welcomed by what we thought was one of Kim's friends but once he had bought us all a drink it turned out Kim had never met him in his life. Our new friend insisted we choose a name for him so we said James (as in Bond) and he regaled us with tales of how he had come to Belgium from Haiti and found it hard, as a black Muslim to fit in at times. It seems to be my role in the group to entertain the odd-bods and so predictably as I tried not to appear ungrateful for our drinks, the others sidled off to one side and left me listening to his tales of being a talented but misunderstood artist. He then went on to talk about religion and it is was at this point that I began to become a bit nervous as he became more and more erratic and excited. It was like being trapped in a cage with tiger as it grew hungrier and hungrier. It was time to say our thanks and wish him well on his journey as we exited stage left, Andrew first. 

Next stop, the stadium, and Andrew's artistic flair appeared again as he demanded another 'band photo' against the 'Kortrijk emblem wall'. This time he took the role of the misunderstood Morrissey in the pre-break-up stage of The Smiths' career. Admittedly, he was a Morrissey wearing a footie shirt and a flowery shirt.
Watching the players warm-up, I was reminded of my previous experience of being hit by the ball at the ground and this time paid more attention to the pitch than to my phone. Sure enough a ball whizzed past us and into Andrew's delighted hands. It had made his day. 
The game itself fizzed along but the home side struggled to break down a resolute visiting defence. 
Even Andrew struggled to stay focussed and began piling plastic cups in peoples' hoods although it was Jeremie who appeared to enjoy it the most. He excelled at this footballing version of Jenga / Grandma's Footsteps. Oh, how grown up we are!
Andrew's next stop, once he'd got bored of the cup game, was to try to get the Kortrijk Ultras to sing one of the two songs he had penned for the occasions:
"Don't sell Van Loo, Anthony Van Loo....Cause you'll have a riot on your hands." to the tune of Billy Ray Cyrus' "Achy Breaky Heart"
"Kiš is on fire, your defence is terrified, Kiš is on fire, your defence is terrified..." to the tune of Gala's 90s hit "Free from Desire". 

Unfortunately for him Van Loo hadn't started a game that season and Tomislav Kis didn't look like he was going to add to the two goals he had scored so far in the season.
Nevertheless, he persevered and was delighted when a group of them joined in. Mission accomplished, he trotted back to us: wide grin on his face.
Despite a late rally from Kortrijk there was no opening goal and the scenes of jubilation from the visiting fans showed how much it meant to them to draw at the neighbour's ground.  The sight of one of the players jumping into the crowd added to their excitement, although it did seem a bit OTT for a goalless draw.

Relaxed post-match drinks

After the game there was no rush to leave the ground as the bar remained open to serve the remaining fans. It allowed us to get rid of all of the of drink tokens we had bought before the game. Kim also made sure that we had our photos taken with all the players as they walked past the bar. The welcoming atmosphere that surrounded the club kept us at the bar well after the final whistle. Eventually we left, saying goodbye to Jeremie in the process, and our evening moved on to a Karaoke bar on the edge of Kortrijk run by one of Kim's friends. After knocking out incredible versions of Pulp's Common People and the Pogues' Fairytale in New York (in our opinion) we bade farewell to our new Flemish friends. Not how we'd expected to finish our evening!

Karaoke time!

April 2016 - Lens v Auxerre

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.

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...?

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.

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!

Early morning and ready for Lens!

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!

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!

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.

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!