Actually, after a full four-and-a-half months without worrying about defensive frailties, missed chances and the points the other teams are picking up; and after not singing and shouting raucously for the same period, you soon find you’re a bit rusty and your voice goes hoarse (not horse) after about ten minutes. Although, even if we hadn’t had much practice at screaming and shouting outside of domestic squabbles, we had to assume the team had done (practised not squabbled), but then I had to admit that I hadn’t seen any of the friendlies in the winter break so I didn’t know why Heli Rottensteiner and Oli Schmidt weren’t playing, or why Schleindl and Pecaranin were on the bench, or who the new faces were (Reifeltshamer, Taboga and Hirsch).
We were, however happy to be back and Straßwalchen was – on paper – the best opponent we could have hoped for: crap at the back, crap in midfield and crap going forward. A team we panned 5-1 away from home. A miracle that they weren’t propping up the division. But that’s all theory as we were soon to discover. As rusty as we were up on the terraces, not quite up to volume, the newly arranged team on the pitch looked both unfamiliar and stiff-legged. Early on it was clear to see it was going to be one of those find-your-feet games. Although Austria Salzburg dominated the first half and although Straßwalchen were unable to string more than two or three passes together, there seemed to be a lot of passes going astray, flick-ons into the void, running backwards and forwards to no avail, and an amazing amount of effort being invested in not quite getting the ball into the back of the net.
Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary states that the word ‘wuthering’ is an old colloquial phrase meaning ‘to blow with a dull roaring sound’, which fairly accurately described the first game back. Like a supermarket car park of boy racers it was all mouth and no trousers. Like a cake that needs another half-an-hour in the oven; all the ingredients seemed to be there, but it was all sloppy inside. We lost count of the crosses that missed out, shots that went over or badly weighted passes.
On top of that, as we know we are not allowed to criticise referees’ decisions, so I will keep my comments general and subjective. There were maybe ten or twelve decisions in the game which I, myself, personally simply couldn’t understand, mostly free kicks given to the wrong team – on both sides. There was certainly no bias, but if one decision can turn a game it’s better to get as many decisions as possible right – in my humble opinion!
Ultimately, we maybe had the referee to thank for our half-time lead. It was fitting that what may have been a penalty offence on the stroke of half time went our way, but even the penalty itself had to be banged in by Berndt Winkler on the rebound. 1-0 to the Austria. All in all a fair score, but if Straßwalchen had managed to get nearer to Alex Trappl you never know what might have happened.
At half time I was speaking to our relatively new friend, Barbara F. Barbara had her 15 minutes of fame a few months back when she was in the local paper as the woman who greeted Tom Cruise as he got off the plane in Salzburg. Officially her opening line was ‘Hello Mr Cruise, welcome to Salzburg’, to which Mr Cruise answered ‘thank you!’, but CIA lip readers studied the high-power lens film material and believe they have discovered what she really said: ‘Hello Mr Cruise; did you become a scientologist before or after doing Top Gun?’, to which he may have answered ‘**** you!’ Obviously, the press and the radio went with the official version and Barbara got to extend her 15 minutes with a radio spot for two weeks after the event.
So everything Barbara says has to be taken with a pinch of salt, but apparently when I went to the toilet at the Austria Salzburg Christmas party, Lubo Neubauer asked her ‘Is that strange Englishman your boyfriend?’ This revelation shook me to the bone. Strange? Who’s strange? Lubo – I shall be watching you very carefully! But don’t worry; nobody needs to know the things you told us at the Christmas party – not unless someone asks me! Nobody’s shocked by painted toenails and women’s underwear nowadays. Either that, or Barbara sold me another very loose interpretation of the truth.
Right. Second half. After a satisfying trip to the bogs I was handed my second beer and settled in for more stodgy footie. Ivan Pecaranin came on for Raphael Reifeltshamer, but ultimately the frustration was to continue. If the pitch had been a bit damper the ball might have stayed on the ground, but there was a lot of stress all over the pitch as time was wasted getting the ball under control and even the Nico Mayers, Lubo Neubauers and Berndt Winklers were starting to boil up with the bad balls and weird bounces. On 48 minutes there was a yellow card for Lubo and another for a daft frustration challenge by Berndt Winkler on 60 minutes as he seemed to be dissatisfied with either the attitude or the application shown by the rest of the team.
At this juncture Leitner came on for Feldinger and Taboga was on for Federer on 65. Somehow the fragile stability was lost in midfield and without showing any constructive combinations Straßwalchen employed simple long-ball and one-contact moves in midfield, and there were a few mild panic situations at the back. Then there was a lot of ‘wuthering’ in front of our goal, but fortunately the situations were either resolved by some cat-like Trappl acrobatics or Straßwalchen’s ‘wutheredness’ in front of goal. Honestly, on a bad day we could have gone down 3-1.
However, on both sides the game continued to generate more heat than light and Straßwalchen managed to pick up five cards to our three although Pascal Taboga was almost completely frozen out. Two touches in 30 minutes, maybe three. It wasn’t his fault either; he didn’t get the service.
30 minutes? But he came on with only 25 minutes left! That’s one of the wonders of football. A black hole opens up after ninety minutes and is capable of swallowing up whole football grounds. Despite no obvious reason for adding on seven minutes after the regular 90, the game ended in an equally fitting manner to the completion of the first half. Lubo Neubauer may have taken yoga lessons with Mario Milic during the winter break, while studying Japanese martial arts philosophy and the behaviour of cats when children surprise them by popping empty packets of crisps next to their ears while they are sleeping. Lubo seemed to jump about six metres in the air, twisting and turning on the way up, to meet a cross sent in by someone from behind the speakers, to finally bag the three points. Not only did the grandstand erupt, but because the ref was enjoying himself so much he added another two minutes. The official version was, of course, 90 minutes: Goal for SV Austria Salzburg - Lubomir Neubauer. 2-0 – game over!
Anyway; reaching these ‘heights’ in the table is one thing, but next week against third placed Hallwang it might be better to get the points without the ‘wuthering’ and the black holes!
See you in Hallwang! Roge
SV Austria Salzburg - SV Straßwalchen 2-0 (1-0)
Austria Salzburg played with:
Trappl; Urbanek, Reifeltshammer (46. Pecaranin), Milic, Hirsch; Mayer, Federer (65. Taboga), Neubauer, Feldinger (60. Leitner); Cavic, Winkler
Goals:
1-0: Winkler (45. +3) (Assist: Cavic)
2-0: Neubauer (95.) (Assist: Hirsch)
Shots total: Austria 18 / Straßwalchen 8
Shots on target: Austria 9 / Straßwalchen 4
Shots blocked: Austria 1 / Straßwalchen 1
Corners: Austria 13 / Straßwalchen 2
Fouls: Austria 16 / Straßwalchen 25
Offsides: Austria 7 / Straßwalchen 11
Yellow cards:
Austria: 3 (Neubauer, 48./Foul; Winkler, 60./Foul; Trappl, 92./Unsportlichkeit)
Straßwalchen: 5 (Schwab, 25./Foul; Isanovic, 45. +2/Foul; Brodinger, 53./Foul; Berner, 69./Foul; Weintritt, 74./Unsportlichkeit)
Salzburg, Austria-Platz Maxglan, 1300 spectators
Ref: Roland Klappacher; Assistenten: Dr. Mag. Gerhard Pöttler; Polat Sen
