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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!
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
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. 
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!
