The fact that life’s not fair is something I’ve always known. When Altach away came out as the first game of the season I knew this rule did not intend to change. It would have been such a lovely trip. But firstly, my dad – with his perfect sense of mistiming – was here with his lady friend; and secondly, my lady – who has suffered in more-or-less silence for the last four years, didn’t need to say anything she hasn’t already said with facial expressions a million times before. I could have quietly slipped off in the morning under the pretence of going to fetch some bread, and then said, ‘Guess what! I took a wrong turning at the supermarket and there was no chance to turn around until Altach.
Second possibility I had been working on was selling my lady, and my dad and his lady, the benefits and wonders of a drive out to Altach – where, quite coincidentally, Austria Salzburg were playing a game in the late afternoon. This could have been a perfect way of rounding off a wonderful day of sightseeing in Altach; the only problem being I found myself hard pushed to dig up any selling points for Altach: Altach royal gardens? Altach fortress? Altach twin towers? Altach nature reserve? Mount Altach? The great wall of Altach? The Altach fountain of eternal youth? If you google ‘points of interest in Altach’ you probably get an answer like – no results: ‘Do you mean Al Tach?’
Round about the middle of last week it dawned on me that, until the ‘powers that be’ in Altach develop their USPs, I will not be going there this, or next, or any other year. What could those USPs be? Seventh largest town within 20 miles of Lake Constance! Second most boring town in the world? Tenth largest supermarket car park in Austria! Or maybe ‘come and see our new pedestrian precinct!’ or ‘why not spend half an hour sitting on a park bench next to the bank while you get attacked by wasps?’ I would have accepted any excuse, but Altach was simply not forthcoming in the provision of excuses – so I stayed at home.
Not that I didn’t have any means of following the game. Sorry, I mean – I did not have any means of following the game. With radio streaming technology for the masses only 12 years old I searched in vain for some poor bastard local radio station daft enough to broadcast a game of football of immense importance to one English bloke living in Salzburg, but of negligible significance to people living in the town with the tenth largest supermarket car park in Austria. So I figured I’d open up the live ticker service on the SFV website. Hello!!! What the fuck does LIVE mean if you only get the details after the game? On the SFV website you would be forgiven for thinking that every game was going to end 0-0. Instead of ‘live’ they should write ‘ARCHIVE’ ticker.
OK, so I don’t know that after having the better of the first twenty minutes we go into the lead through Marko Vujic on 21 minutes. As you know the first rule in life is – 1. Life’s not fair. The second rule is: 2. Austria Salzburg cannot hold onto a lead for longer than it takes to buy a pint. You can bet, after we went 1-0 up, half of the Austria fans went to get their celebratory beer only to turn round 15 nanoseconds later to hear the moans of the rest of the Austria block as Andreas Simma put Altach level on 23 minutes. 1-1. Of course, I don’t know this at the time because I’m sitting on my patio being completely deprived of information. Anyway, 1-1 was the half time score (I discovered retrospectively) and apart from two yellow cards apiece I assume – based on the evidence of no info, no pictures, no commentary, no ticker – that nothing happened.
In the absence of any real information and in the tradition of all great sports journalists, I could simply invent a second half made up of fragments of the truth while sitting in the VIP lounge and getting pogged and pissed on free hospitality, not actually watching the game. However, while all true Austria Salzburg fans were sitting in their hermetically sealed fan block in Altach, being snarled at by over-eager police officers, I was sitting on my garden sofa on the patio reading a John Niven book (The Amateurs) asking myself what I have done to deserve a father - and a girlfriend - who do not think football is of survival-grade importance to the wellbeing of the soul.
Second half. No pictures – no sound – no ticker. (Dani! Could you put the photos online before Christmas?). Then a second yellow for Altach’s Mathias Bachstein on 63 minutes and Austria Salzburg are one player up. My book is getting better and the plot is developing, but another look at the SFV ‘ARCHIVE’ ticker reveals it’s still 0-0 everywhere in the world. As I discovered after the game from a man who’d talked to a man, who said he’d talked to someone who knew someone at the game – Austria were on top of the game and put on another striker, Daniel Pfeifenberger, for Urbanek after 83 minutes to try and get the winner. Rule no. 1 is ‘Life’s not fair – so on 89 minutes and against the run of play (as far as I know) Altach’s Lokman Topduman scores a last-minute winner. 2-1 for the home team. He thinks – because he doesn’t know rule three.
Rule three is: 3. Austria Salzburg are specialists at jammy goals two seconds before the end of a game (remember Adnet, remember Plainfeld). Oliver Schmidt pulls it back to 2-2 and is so happy he dares to celebrate with Bernhard Kletzl. Celebrating and being happy is apparently a yellow card offence so the referee, Mr Georg Hofer, showed what happens to people if they celebrate after a goal and sends both of them off! What sort of a world is it if you can’t celebrate after a goal? What’s next? No cigarettes after sex, no burping after drinking beer, no farting after beans, no showing the middle finger to Audi drivers when you overtake them. Mr Georg Hofer – this is why we go to football games, this is why we play football, this is why we travel hours and hours to the back of beyond, this is why we keep coming back even though we get disappointed again and again – for these moments of sexless ecstasy. Adrenaline is the best drug around, it doesn’t cost anything and it’s healthy in reasonable doses. Just let happy people be happy!
Without the benefit of any real reports of what went on after the final whistle blew I assume a number of Austria supporters politely asked the referee if he would like a beer and gave him one without waiting for an answer. Because of the enthusiastic nature of this activity the police maybe misunderstood the invitation and figured a suitable reaction would be to escalate the situation with pepper spray, dogs and unfriendly gestures – BUT – as I did not have the benefit of sound and vision I don’t want to be prejudiced. My mum always used to say, ‘If you can’t say anything nice – don’t say anything!
See you next Saturday – definitely!
Roger
SCR Altach Amateure - SV Austria Salzburg 2-2 (1-1)
Austria Salzburg played with:
Huber; Kreuzwirth, Schmidt, Oberauer, Märzendorfer; Urbanek (83. Pfeifenberger), Kletzl, Reifeltshammer, Mayer, Wührer (58. Cavic); Vujic
Goals:
0-1: Vujic (21.) (Assist: Urbanek)
1-1: Simma (23.)
2-1: Topduman (89.)
2-2: Schmidt (93.) (Assist: Kreuzwirth)
Shots: Altach 15 / Austria 28
Shots on target: Altach 10 / Austria 12
Shots blocked: Altach 1 / Austria 5
Corners: Altach 4 / Austria 12
Fouls: Altach 16 / Austria 23
Offsides: Altach 3 / Austria 3
Yellow cards:
Altach: 3 (Bschaden, 32./Foul; Bachstein, 35./Foul; Ender, 92./Foul)
Austria: 2 (Kletzl, 26./Foul; Schmidt, 42./Foul)
Yellow/Red:
Altach: 1 (Bachstein, 63./Foul)
Austria: 2 (Schmidt, 93./unsporting behaviour; Kletzl, 93./unsporting behaviour)
Altach, Cashpoint Arena, 800 spectators
Ref: Georg Hofer; Assistants: Helmut Plattner, Rudolf Viertler
