European Football Weekends

What's it like, as an away fan, to visit one of the most famous grounds in world football. One that houses fans so passionate and vociferous that the noise from a goal causes a seismic shift in the city? Lifelong Manchester City fan, David Mayor, reveals all...

Due to the effects of the on-going global financial crisis I hadn’t expected to go to any of Manchester City’s away games in the group stages of the Champions League with the draw approaching. But having rushed from work to a City Centre pub to watch it, there was a certain inevitability that I’d at least look into possible routes of getting to them once the draw had thrown up Bayern, Villareal and, most excitedly for me, Napoli.

Around an hour after getting home that evening I’d seen suitable flights from Manchester to Rome for less than £50. At this point I considered the factors that would decide if I’d purchase these or not. These were the state of my bank balance, my potential danger/safety and the fact that we were playing away in arguably the most atmospheric stadium in Europe. Being the responsible adult that I am, and after deliberating for somewhere in the region of 30 seconds, the latter of those factors won this particular round-robin of clashes with a more than healthy goal-difference.

Fast-forward about three-months and you’d have found myself, Big Chris and Ant in the departures lounge of Manchester Airport at 5.50 on a Monday morning. As you all know, two of the possible explanations for drinking at that time include being in an airport or going to an away game. Fortunately they don’t cancel each other out so we managed a quick pint before boarding the flight which was your usual mix of lads drinking extortionately priced half-cans of Magners and well-dressed Italian businessmen. Personally I took-up a kind-of middle ground here by wearing an Adidas trackie-top whilst catching-up with world affairs by reading The Times. The two hour-flight passed while I pondered such issues as ‘will the incoming Conservative government address Spain’s catastrophic unemployment rate,‘ ‘can sex addiction be considered an illness’ and ‘aren’t Bury doing well.’

As, it seemed most of our fellow Blues on board had planned, I’d decided we’d stay in Rome on the Monday night. I was a little ashamed about this as I’d been to Rome before and felt I was guilty of “believing the hype” regarding Naples reputation for safety by thinking we’d enjoy a more relaxing day drinking exploring the capital’s cultural riches.

So with bags dropped at the hotel and pasta and wine consumed we walked to the nearby Coliseum. Now for all the history associated with the place, one barely mentioned, yet significant, moment was the major huff I had with a tour-guide there in 2004. While hanging around waiting for the tour to begin, she asked us the reason for us being in the Eternal City and I excitedly told her that were going to watch Lazio v Roma the following evening. She proceeded to scoff at the idea that people would travel to Rome with the primary intention of watching a football match.

Deeply embittered by this seven years on, and the fact I don’t get a great deal out of the most recognisable historical landmarks, I decided having a pint in view of the Coliseum was a better use of my time and money than paying €10 to go in there again. With Ant joining me we were soon rewarded for this decision when, on receiving a second beer, we were given the most elaborate-looking cheese and ham toasty. History 0 Mayor 1.

The rest of Monday consisted of a bit of a stroll followed by, at regular intervals, the all-too familiar exchange:

“Shall we go in there for one?”
“Let’s have a walk around, looks nothing special in there”

Ten minutes later

“There?”
“No let’s see what’s up here”

Five minutes later

“Can we just effin go in there?”

Fortunately (I’d hate to give away which one was me in that exchange) it wasn’t long before we were enjoying many ‘one’s’ in various places and talk inevitably turned to tomorrow and what we were to expect in Naples. The general consensus was things wouldn’t be as bad as they were being made out but we just had to have our sensible heads on and adhere to the safety advice the club had provided. In addition, EFWs good leader, Danny Last, had provided a specially commissioned Napoli/City friendship logo (the shade of blue caused concern he’d actually given us a Real Oviedo/Everton friendship logo by mistake but he deserves the benefit of the doubt here) which would surely diffuse any volatile situation.

With some heavy heads we made our way to Roma Termini station for the 10.49 to Napoli Centrale the following morning and being honest, the regularly asked, hilarious question of ‘are you packing steel underpants,’ was now beginning to haunt us. The area around Termini isn’t the best to settle a few nerves and even the most joyous of activities that is buying cans before boarding a train to a football match felt a little subdued.

Once on the train a couple of other City fans came and sat in the carriage and it was re-assuring that they didn’t look the types to turn the journey into a two-hour banging on windows sing-song but just wanted a chat and a laugh discussing David White, the journey to FC Midtjylland and that kids who watch City now will grow up never having known any different. Bloody kids being young when we’re good!

Upon departing the train in Naples the dreaded ‘welcome party’ didn’t materialise, but a more welcome, welcome party did in the form of the local Carabinieri and my great mate Isra. The Carabinieri met us with smiles and simply wanted to know where we were staying and if we knew how to get there, which was another in the tick column for those of a more nervous disposition, while Isra raised the bar with a handshake and enthusiastic man-hug.

Isra, by the way, is someone who I’m surprised hasn’t made the pages of EFW before as he is, amazingly enough, a big fan of the game we call football who lives in and travels around Europe watching it. An Atletico Madrid fan who now lives in Italy, he was a more than welcome addition to our party mainly because he’s a grade A chap. Additionally he also speaks Italian and had been to Napoli before so his experience and language skills were appreciated.

Having chosen to stay across the road from the station we were surprised at how quiet the area was as it had been categorised by all and sundry as no-go. The hotel also had a bar, which was welcome, but after a quick one we got the taxi down to the Port area Stazione Marittima, as advised, from where we would later be shuttled to the stadium. We were in good spirits at this point. We were now “four-handed” the station area and hotel had been fine and we were about to go to the safe area of the port.

Once at the port we weighed up our options and took the unpredictable decision of going to the first bar we came to. It contained around 20 other Blues and included the bloke who ran the supporters club I went to games with from the mid-nineties to the early-noughties. There was something quite brilliant in sharing a beer and a laugh with someone on route to the Stadio San Paolo in a way that’s no different than when you did it before Upton Park, Filbert Street, Bescot Stadium etc I sensed his satisfaction that he wouldn’t have to add to the couple of hundred thousand times he’d said ‘no cans on the bus please lads’ on this particular away trip as well.

We then headed directly towards the area where we would be transported to the stadium which was a weird sort of tunnel that, again, thankfully had three (that’s three rather than free unfortunately) bars. I could tell this place was going to have quite a relaxed feel as you could hear that our fans were now happy to engage in a song or two. For a couple of hours ditties celebrating heroes of years gone by were intertwined with those about our current range of world-superstars which included the questionable allegation that David Silva gets pissed up on San Miguel.

With everyone in good spirits, we moved onto the heavily guarded buses around two hours before kick-off and were on our way. The singing continued although to my great disappointment no-one seemed to want to join in the praise of Tricky Tricky Ricky Ricky Holden, preferring instead to concentrate on our mercurial little Spanish playmakers (alleged) drinking habits.

I knew the journey to the stadium wasn’t exactly spitting distance but I didn’t expect it to take over an hour and myself and Isra believed they were deliberately delaying our arrival at the stadium. We weren’t complaining though and with just under an hour or so to kick-off we were obviously in the vicinity as you could see various Napoli fans having a pre-match drink of their own. In this way it was very similar to going to a British game as an away fan on the coach. Lots of locals looked at us and there was the occasional exchange of hand-gestures but nothing to write on EFW about.

We all got off the buses and made a short walk to the stadium along a cordoned off street. Up a small, fantastically graffitied, ramp type thing, tickets checked and there it was. Through one of the gang-ways I could make out the stand (opposite the camera on TV) and could see a packed crowd and the NAPOLI CLUB and BLUE TIGRE banners that I have seen on TV and in pictures a hundred times. If 2004 German Tour guide woman could’ve seen me at this point it may have given her some insight into why someone might travel from England to Italy go to a football match.





Once in view of the pitch I was completely awestruck. The players were out warming up but the crowd, as it has at matches for 25 years, fascinated me. Directly to our right was Curva A with Curva B far away in the distance to our left. We had about half an hour to kick-off at this point and there were different things catching my eye every couple of seconds although nothing could prepare for the teams entrance on the pitch.

Having had quite a fascination with Ultras over a number of years I consider myself pretty clued up on all things tifo but no-one could have failed to be impressed by this. The two curva’s produced immense displays but seemingly the whole stadium had something going on. It was everywhere, huge surfer flags, flares, card displays, message banners, sparklers (see http://www.ultras-tifo.net/photo-news/616-napoli-manchester-city-22112011.html) and while I’d seen whole stadiums immersed in colour and flags before, the chaotic nature of this really was on another level.

You shouldn’t be surprised to read it was also the loudest stadium I‘d ever experienced and again it seemed every single Parteponi was getting involved. It was a tough task for the 800 or so of us to make ourselves heard and every time there seemed to be a break in the noise and the first strains of ‘Blue Moon’ or ‘It should’ve been ten’ were belted out, it was soon drowned out by, what sounded like, the whole of the city of Naples whistling.

Now I can’t do justice to, or begin to include, everything that was noteworthy that happened in the stadium. It was an absolute cauldron of noise, colour, smoke etc and for two hours I was in football watching heaven. It was everything I’d ever wanted to get from the experience of going to a match and I was watching the club that I love. Of course we got beat and I felt that anxious urge of wanting us to get that equaliser as I would at any match but while we sat, kept in the stadium after the match, I still felt a strange sense of elation.

As we watched it slowly empty (and the local fans nick the Champions League banners that cover the perimeters of the stands) I could hear conversations of the “Mancini got it wrong with the full-backs” and “De-jong’s lost it” nature going on behind me. I’ve never been one for this kind of post-match analysis but I found it especially unappealing at this time. Everyone’s different, and I had on this very trip been described as being a ‘bit too much of a glass half-full Blue’ but having just watched Manchester City play at Napoli, sitting five points clear at the top of the league after winning the FA Cup a few months earlier I didn’t think I, or they, had too much to be complaining about.

The bus journey back to the port was understandably more subdued. Well that’s except for the hundreds of local cars that passed us beeping horns and waving their flags and scarfs out of the window. But for us on board, there did seem a bit of relief that things had passed without any major problems and most were looking forward to getting back to their hotel for a night-cap or two.

This was where our only major issue arose. Once dropped off at the port we were left to our own devices to find our way to the hotel. I’m still unsure as to why the Police hadn’t arranged for taxi’s to be on hand as they’d seemed to have everything else tied up in this regard. Anyway, walking in search of a cab around midnight, with no idea where we were going wasn’t ideal and the situation was intimidating as cars would drive past with drivers and passengers glaring at us. Thankfully after 10 minutes we managed to flag one down and were relieved to be on our way to the hotel.

As we entered the hotel bar I was just thinking how well the trip had passed when another City fan came in who looked petrified. Shaking, he ordered a drink and told us how the group he’d been with had just been attacked and one of them stabbed. He said the Police had been on the scene immediately and the victim seemed ok and had gone to hospital. Obviously that situation could have been worse but it was an extremely sobering moment listening to him describe what had happened.

We stayed up for a couple of hours and chatted to our barman who was, naturally, a Napoli fan and a sound bloke. He expressed concern about what had just happened, told us stories of games he’d been to over the years and asked if it was true that everyone in Manchester supports City which, being nothing if not honest, we all nodded vigorously at.

It was an early start in the morning to get the return train/flight, all of which again went smoothly. Personally, I’d had an amazing time. It was certainly different than those who went to Bayern or Villareal would have had but I knew this when booking. The other trips I’ve had abroad to watch a game are as much about the laugh you have with your mates/meeting opposition fans etc as the game you’re going to. This one was always going to be different. It was always going to be about the moment I could see the Stadio San Paolo and the few hours that followed and that, my fellow European Football enthusiasts, was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life.

Napoli are the Marmite of Italy. You either love them or you hate them. Having seen them twice myself, I've got a foot in the camp of the former. Their fans can be both mesmerising and frightening at the same time. If you go and see Napoli, you won't forget about it in a hurry I can assure you.

This is the first of a two-part look at the club. Firstly, we'll take a look at the fans and try and get an insight into their world. Later in the week, I'll try and give you a rough guide should you ever want to go and see a game in the Stadio San Paolo.

As always here at EFW, we'll start with the fans. I interviewed lifelong fan Fabiano from Naples this week. He told me his love for Napoli, both the city and the team is something that cannot be described with just words. To Fabiano, Napoli are not just a team, they are his life and that rings true for many Napoli fans.

Do you think Napoli have the best fans in Italy? I do think we are Italy's best fans, because no one is as passionate as us: there are people who would rather skip their lunch than miss the match. Roma have passionate fans too, but they're not in the same league as us. When Napoli play away, the guest stand is always packed with every seat taken. Tickets run out very quickly. Furthermore, we never stop singing till the end of the match, even if we're losing 0-10!!! In conclusion, Napoli are a religion, not a team, to us.

Is there a sinister element to the Napoli support? There is a sinister element to our support, because since the 'Ultras' want everybody to sing, sometimes you can get in trouble if you don't sing, but not in deep trouble: they might just shout at you. But this happens just in the Curvas, where the Ultras stand. Talking about other fans, we are brothers just with 4 teams: Genoa, Ancona, Palermo and Catania, apart from those who come from the province of Naples. All the other teams are enemies, and our toughest feuds are with Roma, Lazio, Verona, Atalanta, Juventus, AC Milan, Inter Milan. Some other firms hate us, like for example Cagliari, Bari, Salernitana and Avellino, but these feuds are not as tough as the ones I mentioned before. The one with Roma is the toughest rivalry in Italy, because it's just a football matter, not a social one like the rivalries with northern teams, so all the hatred is concentrated in football. Furthermore, Napoli and Roma are the 2 toughest firms, so when we meet up problems always occur.

Nowadays it is impossible for us to go to Roma or for them to come here, because since a police officer was killed in Catania 3 years ago, many new rules have been made and many things have changed: when there's a high risk match, away fans are forbidden to go, and tickets are ordered to be sold only within the province of the city where the match is supposed to be played. Italian football association (FIGC, Federazione Italiana Giuoco Calcio) are trying to solve this problem with the 'Tessera del Tifoso', a card that will allow away fans to go to the ground even when forbidden. But you must not have had criminal records concerning football in the last 5 years to get it, so Ultras totally disagree with buying one.How many ultra groups do you have and do they all get on with each other? We have 2 Curvas: Curva A and Curva B. In Curva A there are many groups, each one with his leader, and they seem to get with each other since they allsing at the same time. The most famous groups are: Mastiffs, Teste Matte, Vecchi Lions and Brigata Carolina. Curva A is the one with the toughest fans. Curva B have just 2 groups: Ultras Napoli and Fedayn, and they don't get with each other: when Fedayn sing, Ultras Napoli remain silent, and viceversa. Curva B used once to be the best firm in Italy (Curva A and B, our 2 firms, get their name from the end's they occupy), but it has recently slowly come down, since there's not a real leader now. They once used to sing all match long, but nowadays the ones who sing the most are Curva A's groups.

Is it safe to watch a match at the Stadio San Paolo? Watching a match at San Paolo is safe, but it depends what stand you go to: I would not advice you to get a ticket for the curva, but Distinti, Tribuna Nisida and Tribuna Posillipo are quiet. Distinti are a bit more noisy, but Tribuna Posillipo is very quiet because it's attended by rich people, old people, fathers with their kids and journalists. But it's the most expensive stand of the ground, so I advice you to go to the Tribuna Nisida, which is quiet as well.

What is the stadium like and are there plans afoot to renovate it? The stadium is like a giant egg, and there are plans to renovate it: athletics track, roof and 3rd ring (the upper part, which is shut because it could fall) will be torn down, and seats will be built closer to the pitch.


Are away fans always allowed into the stadium for every match? Away fans are not always allowed to come to Napoli, but if we play against a team we are brothers with or which is not much of a feud to us, then they let them come.

Who are your rivals? Our rivals are mainly in Northern Italy, because there's a high social disagreement between north and south, and this is reflected in football too. We are rivals also with Roma and Lazio as I told you before, but it's just a football matter, it's a social one. Furthermore, there are some teams in the south we are rivals with because of things that happened many years ago, because they are brothers with a team we're rival with or because they come from the same region as us: Cagliari (we had a riot with them in 1997), Bari (they're brothers with Salernitana, our enemy) and Salernitana (they're in the same region as us, Campania, but it's not much of a rivalry to us, because we have history unlike them, although they feel this feud a lot).Are Napoli fans always allowed to travel to away games or are there still bans in place? Napoli fans are almost never allowed into the ground when they're guests, but sometimes we manage to beat the system by buying tickets for other stands (guest stand is shut) or turning up the very day of the match and forcing police to let us in to avoid deeper trouble.

Were you on that infamous train that went to Roma on the opening day of the season in 2008? No, unfortunately I was not on that train, but a friend of mine was there and told me it was all fixed up, because they didn't do anything bad apart from lighting some torches and firecrackers, so banning us from away matches for all the season was a too severe punishment, and totally stupid as was the decision of shutting our curvas for 3 matches (we won them all, nuts to them!!). In the previous days, Trenitalia, the Italian train company, had refused to give us a special train to go there, so we had to travel on an Inter City after waiting for several hours at the station. They said we ripped out seats, broke windows and toilets, but it's not true, because 2 Austrian journalists were on that train and said that nothing had happened. They just showed 4 broken wagons, the others kept on travelling across Italy. When we got to Rome, we got on buses, and they said we destroyed them, but not that each bus contained 150 people. They said we tore down the ground's gates, but when we got there they were already open, and no one was there 2 check us up. Because of decisions like that, Napoli fans do not like Italy at all: I mean, why would we support a country that hates us??

Does the shadow of Maradonna still loom large over the city? Yes, Maradona is still God to us, because he took us to win 2 leagues and the UEFA Cup, something we had never experienced before. We adore him especially because he used to play for the people, not for money.

I'd heard that procuring tickets for Serie A fixtures had become a little more arduous since the Italian government attempted to clamp down on increasing levels of violence at games towards the end of last season. I ordered my ticket from www.ticketone.it and was instructed to pick it up at the stadium prior to the match. The Carlo Castellani stadium is a fifteen minute walk from Empoli station. It wasn't signposted but I'd come prepared, armed with a multimap printout. In picking up my ticket, I used my newly learnt (that morning) pigeon Italian to get me to the collection point. This turned out to be four little huts, three unmarked and one with a sign saying 'Press and VIPs only'. I queued up for twenty minutes at one of the unmarked ones and and was then told to move to another as mine was an 'internet only' collection. A little sign wouldn't have gone a miss. Fans of queuing would then be delighted to note that fifteen minutes in another line later and bingo; I had my ticket. I had to present my passport before they would hand it over and then had to show it again twice more before gaining entry. A couple of tips then, namely, get there early and take your passport if you want to get in.

Empoli don't have a club shop. There were several stalls outside the stadium but they had all arrived from Naples and only sold Napoli t-shirts (predominantly Maradona ones), scarves and flags. As with a lot of games abroad, match programmes were 'gratis' and laid out on the seats beforehand.

So what of the Stadio Carlo Castellani then!? Well forget your traditional four stands, this one had eleven! Ten of these were uncovered and of those nine were temporary looking structures similar to those behind one goal of the much loved Withdean Stadium, Brighton. I was in the main two-tiered covered stand on one side which had two more stands either side of that and the largest stand opposite was an open two-tiered affair which ran the length of the pitch and contained most of the home support. Of the eleven, Napoli fans were packed into six and half of them. An incredible show of support for a fixture over four hours away from Naples. They must have had five-six thousand at least. I often hear fans use the lack of a roof as an excuse for a poor atmosphere. Au contraire Blackadder. The Napoli ultras ensured a wall of noise for ninety minutes. One regular song was accompanied by fans running down the stand to the front, running back to the top, then over to the left and you've guessed it over to the right. Great to watch, dangerous to to be near was my verdict.

The game itself was fairly uninspiring, lit up only by the officials luminous clothing. Empoli were fairly solid but lacked any striking prowess. Any hope Napoli had of taking three points were diminished when they withdrew livewire Argentinean striker Ivan Lavezzi. A Carlos Tevez rather than Maradona type player both in appearance and ability who was a the centre of everything they had to offer. His partner up front, the Uruguayan Zalayeta has scored seventeen goals in over one hundred and ten appearances. It was not hard to see why, he was turgid.

I don't think it would have taken much for the Napoli fans to ignite. As it was, each unfavourable decision was greeted with a hail of bottles and next to me a couple of seats were ripped out when Blasi was shown a yellow card.

Refreshment wise in the ground, you could buy water and rather splendidly about six different varieties of cheesy biscuits. Around the pitch there were five randomly parked cars, a huge yellow semi circular inflatable advertising not a lot and everybody's favourite; the extendable players tunnel.

After the game I saw a rather menacing looking firm who had taken their belts off and were slapping them into their hands. Police helicopters hovered overhead and indeed the next morning in the papers I read of clashes outside and at the station in which one Empoli fan had his middle finger cut off. Having said that, I didn't feel personally threatened. The stand I was in was half Empoli, half Napoli. When one chap asked me who I supported, instead of a punch, my reply of 'Brighton and Hove Albion' was met with the usual combination of mirth and hilarity.

So a highly original stadium and a great day out, save for large parts of the match. After arriving back to Florence by train I rewarded myself by uncorking a bottle of Chianti and gorging myself on some magnificent Pecorino cheese.

Stadium nerds like myself might want to know that during my trip I also visited Fiorentinas Stadio Artemio Franchi which was very tricky to enter as they were training at the time but I did get in and also the Stadio Romeo Anconetani in Pisa which was a breeze to enter and brilliantly located a two minute walk from the leaning tower.