Meaty

FC Eindhoven  0  Sparta Rotterdam  0

Eerste Divisie

The time had indeed come for the second 'Jolly Boys Outing' to the Low Countries, after a spiffing debut last time out in Gent, this time, we were heading for a base in Antwerp, the possibilities were endless!

That’s a lie to be honest, the possibilities on the Friday were far from endless, in fact, it was either find a game somewhere close to the Dutch border, or a women’s game. We went Dutch…..

So, with Mr H Senior depositing me at the rendezvous point at Junction 28 of the M1, the journey in the trusty Toyota Yaris was trouble free with Stu at the wheel and Ben sleeping in the back. 

Sainsbury’s in Ashford did the job in terms of provisions and before you knew it we were checked in, sat back and waiting for a delayed tunnel departure to Coquelles.

Between snoozes and Mrs H’s lovingly prepared breakfast, banter was regular and acerbic, with myself being introduced to the delights of the podcast that is Athletico Mince. It appears, I am indeed a ‘Meaty Bastard!’

Coquelles was a breeze and before long the hike to Antwerp was underway, but not before a stop in Lokeren to collect alcoholic supplies from the trusty Carrefour. I bought Jupiler, the other two bought all kinds of semi-illegal substances that could tranquilize a large brown bear with less than a mouthful!

Our apartment was in the centre of Antwerp, betwixt two fine establishments known as Korsakov and Kulminator. More on Kulminator in a later blog, but suffice to say both venues served the finest monk brewed sludge.

So, games wise it was a bit thin, and the nearest venue that none of us had been to was FC Eindhoven, off of Eindhoven where the big club PSV come from. The journey took just less than an hour and before long we were parked up and chatting to a very helpful man called Wim (I made that up) in the ticket office.

He pointed us towards two bars. On outside the ground that he claimed was more family orientated, and a further inside the ground which was a bit more rowdy. It was a tough call, we decided to try both. Both were very good, they served Jupiler, I was happy, they didn’t serve much else, Ben and Stu were not 'reyt' happy as a consequence, they went in search of photographs and a club metal badge.

Typically Dutch is how I would describe the ground. Three box sized stands, very similar in design, with one end open albeit for a clubhouse and a snack bar. It reminded me a bit of TOP Oss, but in blue.

Sparta Rotterdam were the visitors and they sat second in the table, blessed with a decent sprinkling of fans penned into something akin to a compound at Guantanamo Bay, the early exchanges suggested that they might be in for a happy night.

No one was in for a happy night, unless you’d got a propensity to drink Jupiler, a lot, the football was typically ‘nice’, with lots of pretty triangles and one touch passes, but in terms of action, efforts on goals, scything tackles and scraps, it had bugger all to offer.

The 0-0 scoreline was as inevitable as Ben spilling a cup of coffee over the back seat of the car, but, with a quick getaway had, we were soon parked up in Antwerp and inside Korsakov for the first time. 

They didn’t sell Jupiler, they sold something else, it was more potent, as was what the other pair were necking. But, in fairness it had been a long day, so we didn’t stop for too many before heading back to the apartment for a little night cap and a lie down.

But, despite the football, a great start to the weekend, the adventure had only just begun, and we had bacon to cook the following morning, so we thought…….