My Love Affair With FC DAC 1904

It's a hot September Saturday and I find myself in the Slovak town of Zlate Moravce for a match between FC ViOn of the town, and FC DAC 1904 Dunajska Streda, to give them their official title. You're probably thinking why, so here's the story of how one very controversial football club from a Hungarian majority town in southern Slovakia gained a nineteen year old Englishman as a fan...

Long distance relationships are tough, but they definitely have perks too. When Matt moved to Slovakia to teach, and continue his Lostboyo adventures, it was only right that I browse the Slovak league tables so I could at least understand what the hell he will eventually write about. A perusing of the Fortuna Liga table saw me rule out Slovan Bratislava, Spartkak Trnava and MSK Zilina on the basis of "I've heard of them." It was here one name stood out - the elongated, 'too long to show on my phone screen in full' name of FC DAC 1904 Dunajska Streda. 

After a quick Google they ticked every box; cool kit (blue and yellow stripes), stadium was a beauty (although unbeknown to me, it was about to be renovated), and, erm, well those were only two boxes really. 

Then comes the news from Matt that DAC weren't exactly the most favoured club in his new homeland. It turns out he'd been doing some research too, and discovered that DAC were in fact very pro-Hungarian. In fact, 77% of the town of Dunajska Streda, or more favourable called by the residents, Dunaszerdahely, were ethnic Hungarians, and spoke Hungarian (well, obviously). The supporters regularly chant "Hungaria!"

More research from me, and after a few Tweets, I stumbled across Stoke fan Ash, whose fiancee Reka hails from the town and regularly travels over to watch games. Ash told me a lot about the club and soon I was pretty up to speed on how the season had been going, who the best players were etc.

DAC were formed, unsurprisingly, in 1904 from the Dunaszerdahelyi Atlétikai Club and after surviving both world wars, won the Bratislava A District League. After a slow rise through the regional leagues, DAC were promoted to the Slovak National League in 1980. Before the velvet divorce, this was the second tier of Czechoslovak football. Eventual promotion to the Czech First League came in 1987, but not before a memorable UEFA Cup tie against Bayern Munich in the 1983/84 season which to this day still holds the attendance record at their home stadium. As of 2008, DAC were champions of the Slovak Third division, however, after financial troubles blighted the top flight side FC Senec, DAC merged with them and gained their league place in the Slovak First League. In their first top flight season, DAC finished 9th from 12, and have retained their top flight place for the past four seasons, having bounced straight back from relegation to win the 2.Liga in 2013. 

So my first visit to Slovakia since Matt's move comes and I put my foot down as to where we were heading for our footballing adventure - Zlate Moravce. I didn't know what to expect from the fans, the game or anything at all really, but for the next 90 minutes I was to experience a boisterous away end and a shot-buying Hungarian who soon handed us Borovicka as soon as he heard English accents. It was eight games into the current season, and DAC had accumulated just a single point from their campaign so fans were rightly agitated at their sides current run. That definitely didn't dampen spirits though, as a man with a megaphone controlled proceedings from the front of the stand, and every single fan lifted their scarf above their head for a rendition of their club anthem "Nelküled." Even at 1-0 down the frivolities continued. At half time, I communicated, with help from Matt's knowledge of German (they speak a lot of German in Slovakia too), to a girl to ask if I could borrow her scarf to take a photo, and join in the song which involved swinging it round your head. To my surprise, at the end of the game, she told me to keep the scarf - the first real sign that there we decent people at this club. Papa Macou Sarr, who i'd liked the look of for most of the game, was to score the equaliser and secure DAC a second point of the season. Matt blogged the game, which you can read here. 

Thanks, lovely Hungarian girl for the scarf.

DAC's original Metsky Stadion was undergoing a renovation during the early part of the season, forcing the club to play for the early part in Senec, then at the venues of their opponents for nearly four months. This was a contributing factor in the club's poor start to the season. However, by the next time I was over in Slovakia, the swanky new DAC Arena was half finished and able to host games. The opponents for my visit were the new basement boys, strugglers Tatran Presov. I arrived in Dunajska Streda wearing not only my scarf, but this time a shirt, as Ash had kindly sent me one after his last visit. Feeling like a fully fledged YBS ultra, it was towards the arena for the game. Ash had recommended me a small bar by the ground run by a guy called Cisco. Fair play to Cisco, he couldn't have made me feel any more welcome, especially when I mentioned I knew Ash. Soon, he was handing some kind of sandwich as we supped our pints. He even spoke German too, so I didn't have to worry about the sneers had a spoke Slovak in this very Hungarian town. German was to prove useful again inside the ground as I struggled to order some food from the kiosks. Yet again though, some kind fans, who were baffled as to why there were two Brits at the game, helped us out.

Probably the most disappointing thing about my DAC experience so far had been the actual football. A handy Slovak website called Huste streamed the live tv games, so I had watched a couple of the matches online whilst in the UK, and it was fair to say I hadn't been inspired, but having played three games in the new ground, things had been looking up. DAC remained unbeaten in their new digs and weren't going to give up that record to lowly Tatran this afternoon. I had fallen in love with striker Kris Vida (we're even friends on Facebook), so you can imagine my delight when he slotted in number three in a 5-0 thrashing of their west Slovak opponents. 5-0 probably flattered the visitors too - DAC were good. Really damn good. There was a party atmosphere at the Arena, and soon I had fellow fans jumping on me and celebrating. Clearly they thought I was some kind of good luck charm for their biggest win since 2013. If I didn't love the club before today, I certainly did now. Surprise, surprise, Matt blogged again... Here.

Cannot complain with a 5-0 win.

As the season drew to a close I was able to squeeze in one more game, away at MFK Ruzomberok. Again, I was dragging Matt to another random Slovak town, but it did mean he could tick off another top flight ground. With the hosts having just qualified for the Europa League, I certainly wasn't expecting a rollover like the Tatran game, despite DAC's unbeaten run stretching to 16 games, including that Tatran match. I'd been away for two months, and they hadn't lost, so of course I tempted fate by returning for the last match of the season. After the initial difficulty of getting into the ground - I didn't have an identity card which for some reason was required for this game - I was soon back with the YBS to cheer the boys on for once last time this season. There was some debate before the game whether it would be the last time we'd see Csaba Laszlo in the DAC dug out. The ex-Hearts boss had taken the club from relegation fodder to a top half team. Rumours suggest that contract talks between the club and Laszlo have stalled with the owner refusing to pay his demands. 

For one last time, Hajra DAC!

A Europa League place of DAC's own was still a slight possibility, but only if two separate results went the right way and DAC won. With the usual songs being sung, I felt at home again. Despite conceding an early goal, this only encouraged the rowdy bunch down to my right to get going. We were soon bouncing around the away enclosure, almost ignorant to the fact that Ruzomberok had doubled their lead. 

Full time came and the squad came over to applaud the away fans, and rightly so. Sadly though, it did look like a goodbye from Csaba as he took a scarf from the railings, beat his chest and headed down the tunnel for what was is potentially the final time. 

FC DAC 1904 Dunajska Streda (Dunaszerdahely) you've stolen my heart. A great club, with great fans, and a top class bunch of players to go with it. I can't wait for more adventures with you next season. And who knows, there may even be a chance for Europe again. 

Until next time, boys. #HajraDAC! 

Borussia, Bratwursts & Bochum

So before Christmas, after some debate, me and my dad finally agreed - we'd be off to Germany at the end of the season. Dad had promised a "football holiday" and it was just up to me to decide where. First I though a Nice/Monaco double but that wasn't happening, and I'm far too hipster - I think - to do Barcelona or Real. Who'd want to watch the world's best anyway? I found Borussia Monchengladbach were playing, and as I kind of love them it was decided. Now just for the German fixtures to be confirmed so I could work out who else I could see that weeked.

The original plan was Gladbach on the Sunday and Fortuna Dusseldorf  on the Saturday, so accommodation was booked near Dusseldorf, in the small town of Neuss (pronounced like a Brummie saying 'nice') and flights were sorted. 

......

I had persuaded my brother Scott to come along on the trip too, and on the Friday morning, we were at Heathrow ready to board the flight to Germany. As we touched down in die Niederrhein, we then had to battle the German S-Bahn system. I say battle, but it was simple and only a short trip over the river to Neuss. We were in our flat barely an hour before we headed back towards Dusseldorf for a night out with the Germans. Dusseldorf old town is MILES from the Hauptbahnhof (main station) so unless you fancy sore feet and tired legs, don't bother doing it. I'm glad that it was worth the walk though - what a stunning place Dusseldorf is. 

Dusseldorf Konigsallee

Now, i'm not much of a beer drinker, but being in Germany, I did promise my dad I'd have a stein, so that is where we headed for first - a bierkeller. We found a small bar called Ludwig's Bier & Brot where the bar man asked us about our visit to DUS - why we were there etc. before an old man interrupted and mentioned he was from Monchengladbach. This led to him buying us drinks and toasting to his beloved "Borussia". This blog is about the football so I won't divulge too much about the night, but it ended with me drunk off BEER (not bad considering I hate it) dodging a train fare as far as the DUS outskirts, where we ran away from an angry ticket man and into the German wilderness. The taxi fair from here was €30!!!

Anyway, onto Saturday...

We arrived into Gladbach station about three hours before the 3.30pm kick off. We knew there was a free shuttle bus towards the Borussia-Park but we decided to leave that til later and head into Gladbach centre. The town centre really is as bland as any and I could have been in Crawley, apart from Crawley doesn't have random brass donkey's in the middle of the town square... 

Being an ass in Gladbach

I spotted a large shopping centre, and my senses told me there may just be a Borussia club shop in there. To be honest, people walking out with bags with the club logo on was a bit of a give away. Anyway, whilst walking towards the shop, an old man caught my eye. It was only the bloke from the Dusseldorf bar the night before! After chatting about the randomness of meeting him again in the little English he spoke, he told us to head further up the high street towards a large square where Gladbach fans would congregate, so after purchasing a Gladbach shirt for €30 and "A German Team" scarf (I had to!) we headed there. And who did we bump into? Only this old bloke...again! We were sure he was following us. After a couple of beers and some food we decided to head towards the ground, still two hours from kick off. "Let's walk!" my dad proclaimed. I was unsure, but thought it can't be that far. How wrong was i? Well, very. After an hour walking, we were stranded in the middle of the Gladbach countryside with only the metal of the stadium in the distance as our compass. I regularly lambasted my Dad for such a stupid suggestion to walk. 

Fan Zone at Borussia Park

When we finally appeared out of the wilderness looking like extras from Lost, we were just a few hundred metres from the ground. With just half an hour to kick off we headed straight in - now is the moment I air my grievances about Borussia Park. WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD PUT FOOD AND DRINK IN SEPARATE KIOSKS AT OPPOSITE ENDS OF THE CONCOURSE?! Stupid idea. 


Anyway, when I finally entered up the steps into the arena I was stunned. Borussia Park may just look like a standard modern bowl, but the atmosphere which greeted me was superb. I'd queued for so long that the teams were about to walk out, but not before a rendition of the club anthem - Elf vom Niederrhein, which is an absolute banger. See lyrics from the chorus below:

Ja wir schwören Stein und Bein
auf die Elf vom Niederrhein,
Borussia unser Dream-Team,
denn Du bist unser Verein!

Go West was then played - I honestly have no idea, so I guessed it was something to do with Borussia being located in "Nordrhein Westphalen."

Gladbach are mid-table after a poor domestic season, but were just a few points off the Europa League spot and knew that a win against struggling Ausgburg could keep their hopes alive. Augsburg had only recently dragged themselves away from the relegation mire, but with the table so tight at the bottom, needed three points to boost their survival hopes. 

At half time it was goalless, but Borussia should have perhaps been out of sight. Andre Hahn, Lars Stindl, and Andreas Christensen all missed golden chances to take the lead, and just minutes into the second half, Augsburg made them pay. A long ball over the top found its way to Alfred Finnbogasson who slotted past Gladbach goalkeeper Yann Sommer and sent an impressive bunch of away fans wild. 

As the clocked ticked towards ninety, disgruntled home fans - perhaps angered by what I would presume was one of their teams worst performance all season - began streaming out. Being a "neutral" obviously we stayed. Step up Andre Hahn, who connected to an Ibrahima Toure cross and slid in an equaliser in the 95th minute. Strangely, nobody really seemed bothered apart from me, who let out an almighty YES in sheer relief that they'd actually scored.

Full time: Borussia Monchengladbach 1-1 FC Augsburg.

Departing Borussia Park was much less stressful than our arrival, as we hopped on the free shuttle bus back to the main station, and back to Dusseldorf for another night on the town. Of course, I needed a cider so to the only Irish Bar I could find it was! 

Sunday...

I didn't really know what to expect from Bochum. I hadn't researched the team, town, stadium, or even how to get there until the morning we left. 

I urge everyone - never go to Bochum on a Sunday. Nothing is open. Not even the bars. But there is a massive bell outside the city hall. To make matters worse, I was working on English time for some reason and we arrived an hour early than planned - kick off was at 1.30pm, not 12.30. D'oh...

Bochum Bell

Luckily, we did find somewhere for a drink, before taking a long walk up the hill towards the Vonovia Ruhrstadion. I won't lie, it is one of the ugliest grounds from the outside I have ever seen. Today's visitors, relegation probabilities Arminia Bielefeld fans were out in their droves for today's game, all sporting '12' T-shirts, provided by the club for today's relatively local derby. Bielefeld were adrift and second bottom of 2.Bundesliga, and no points today could possibly relegated them had results not gone their way. 

After making our way through the seemingly thousands of away fans, I found the club shop where I purchased a scarf before heading towards the 'fan zone' under the main stand. Here there were penalty shoot outs for the kids, stalls, and a couple of other bits going on. I'm unsure whether this is the norm or whether it was a special event day. 

Ruhrstadion Exterior

Heading through the turnstiles at the Ruhrstadion, I was much happier to see that food and drink were sold together. €6 got me a Bratwurst and a pint to carry up the steps in the terrace. My word, what a stadium! I assumed from pictures that the Ruhrstadion was a typical Southampton or Leicester style stadium with a terrace at one end, and while I wasn't far off, it was certainly much more exciting than your average St Mary's or King Power.

As the terrace began to fill up towards kick off, I sensed we were in for a treat as the decibel levels increased. German fans had already set a good impression for me this weekend, but Bochum fans were about to blow all my expectations out the water, as did the travelling Arminia fans. With the Poznan from the away fans, and the Bochum anthem blaring out the speakers, it was a lively atmosphere for the arrvial of the two sides. 

Arminia made the dream start just 7 minutes in as Keanu Straude bundled the ball in and sent the away fans loopy. To be honest, I'd love to go into depth about the next 70 minutes, but it was dull. Both sides really were a bit rubbish, but at least the fans were keeping me excited. Bochum fans, you've impressed me. What a club!

Inside during the Bochum anthem

When substitute Selim Gunduz entered the field, little did we know that just ten minutes later he would score the equaliser for Bochum. It was definitely cross, and if anyone says otherwise they are lying. From forty yards out and to the right of the net, he played a ball into the box which looped over everyone, and bounced into the box. Happy Bochum fans and happy Craig. This sparked a frantic last ten minutes as both sides attacked to find a late winner. Arminia hit the post, Bochum miss a sitter, Armina miss a sitter, then Bochum hit the post. It was madness, and definitely made up for the previous hour of dross. 

With the game ended, we left to some of the most over the top football policing I have ever seen. Lines and lines of police horses and armed guards stood on every street corner towards the station. Not a hint of trouble had occurred all afternoon, and both sides, as far as I'm aware, were going home happy. 

In good news though, more bars were open afterwards and we headed to the oldest building in the town, a bar called Alter Brauhaus, before a train back to base and another night out on the DUS streets. 

Sunday night involved a hen do, a drunk Irishman dancing naked on the streets, and Killepitsch, a local liquer we'd uncovered on the Friday night. I loved it so much I bought some in duty free. 

Germany, you've been a blast. Gladbach lived up to expectations, and Bochum exceded them. Until next time, Europe. 

Fleetwood are 4th in League One - and it's pretty damn incredible!

Last night, I was Brammall Lane, as Fleetwood Town overcame Sheffield United 2-0 in their own back yard and stretch an unbeaten run which has lasted nearly two months, to 11 games. This in itself is unbelievable, but even more so is that they're fourth in League One, and comfortably in the play-offs. 

There was low-key chatter in the Bramall Lane press box that the Cod Army could assemble a serious charge towards the automatic promotion spots, and whilst the guys at Fleetwood are not getting carried away, I think so too. I've worked five Fleetwood games since I agreed to help out with the media at Highbury, and each of those five games has seen me witness fast-flowing, organised and creative football. They've won four of those games comfortably - the other was a draw - and Uwe Rosler has created a winning formula. 

It's not just a winning formula on the pitch either. For last night's game, Andy Pilley, Town's chairman, subsidised coach travel to the game - something he's doing for the rest of the season - and a crowd of 133 backed the Cod Army. This is above the away attendances seen some of Fleetwood's Saturday matches this season. Ticket offers are drawing fans through the gates at home, and they're staying as the Cod Army's dream season continues. 

Janaury has already seen Rosler bring in the top signings of Markus Schawbl from Aalen and Wes Burns from Bristol City. Both impressed me last night, as Schawbl controlled the midfield play, with Burns creating clear cut chances up front and was perhaps unlucky not to score. They both moulded into the team quickly, as if they'd played there all season and have, in less than 180 minutes of football between them, forged a huge impression upon Fleetwood fans. Add these two to the capture on Joe Maguire from Liverpool and Rosler has assembled a team that can continue their fine run of form through to April.

Three years ago, Fleetwood and Burton Albion met in the League Two Play-Off Final. Could Fleetwood replicate Burton's incredible rise, and could this be a genuine second-tier fixture next season?

An Update: My 2016/17 Season So Far

Hello all,
So this is my first blog in over a year and it feels great to back. In fact, it may just be my first since I started university. For those of you who don't know, I'm currently studying at the University of Huddersfield, reading Sports Journalism. This has been something I've wanted to do for a long time, and here I am, realising my dreams! Anyway, onto the actual purpose of the blog, and a little update about my season so far. 

My season started way back in July, at a game which certainly wasn't planned. As I was moving into my new student house in Huddersfield I was asked by Ben Robinson, my York City supporting friend, if I wanted to go to a Europa League Qualifier between GAP Connah's Quay and Norwegian side Stabaek. 24 hours later me, Ben and Lostboyo Matt who we'd persuade to come were all packed into my little Fiat as headed to North Wales. This was just the start of a crazy evening, minus the football, which was dreadful. Really dreadful. As we entered Rhyl's Belle Vue (Connah's Quay were borrowing the ground for UEL games), we headed towards the rowdy Stabaek fans. 90 minutes of bouncing around and singing ensued and Stabaek supporters had grown on us. It was subtly invite to the pub by Matt that really got the night going though: Chairs were aloft and Norwegians were sat on the floor singing as pure organised chaos kicked off in the bar. It was epic! 

The Rhyl pub party with the Stabaek fans

My sixth game of the season was FC Halifax Town against Morecambe. I have acquired a placement at Halifax for this season, and this was my first game covering the Shaymen as Jim Bentley's Shrimps rolled into Yorkshire. This wasn't your typical pre-season clash, as Morecambe fielded an almost full strength squad and lost... 6-2. The rest of pre-season was filled with Crawley Town games as I prepared to say goodbye to my football family ahead of the new university year, but there was one last place I had to tick off. West Ham had just moved into the Olympic Stadium, and their Europa League Qualifier against Astra Giurgiu was to be their first competitive match there. Tickets acquired, and binoculars packed (not really), I was at the Olympic Park. The London Stadium has been hounded with problems ever since it opened, but personally, I think it's an awesome place to watch football. 

Olympic Stadium for the first time - It's really not that bad!

September allowed me the chance to visit Matt who had moved to Slovakia. Just a week before uni I was on a plane to Bratislava to meet him as he was settling into his new life in Central Europe. Obviously I was there to see my best pal, but there was a more pressing reason: DAC 1904 Dunajska Streda. Ever since Matt moved I started looking occasionally at the Fortuna Liga table and looked at results. It was here I spotted a really cool name, with equally cool kits and a hipster stadium too. Obviously Matt would side with his now local Spartak Trnava, but I really wanted to see the yellow and blue of DAC in action. Onwards to Zlate Moravce which included a bonkers train journey, the world's most boring town, angry DAC fans and very happy English lad falling in love with a pro-Hungarian Slovak football team. To understand, just read Matt's blog: https://lostboyos.wordpress.com/2016/09/13/lost-in-zlate-moravce/.

The day I became a DAC fan

I spent my last few days before uni started in Fleetwood. Through a friend I had managed to get work experience at the Cod Army's plush new Poolfoot Training Centre working with Sam & Will in the media department. This was an incredible week which has since seen the club ask me to help out on match days at Highbury and some away games too, writing match reports for the official website. This is a fantastic opportunity and I have a great feeling it could boost me onto bigger and better things in the future. 

Back in Huddersfield and settled into my new home, I was back on media duties with Halifax before a free Tuesday gave me the opportunity to watch my second love, Curzon Ashton. When I went to my first Curzon game nearly two years ago, I fell in love with the club. The fans, players and staff epitomise everything about non-league football and give me everything I need when I can't watch Crawley. FC United of Manchester was the team who were hosting Curzon and it felt great to be back, despite a drab 0-0 draw. The company made everything so worth it though. 

I was able to catch Crawley in one game up North, as they visited Hartlepool. This was a big game for me as my old flatmate from my first year Alice was a Pools fan. This meant we'd dubbed the game the 'Bratt-Dunn derby.' There was to be no big three points for Crawley (like the previous fixture) as it finished 1-1, but it was great to see Alice's parents Mel & Phil up in Hartlepool. 

Possibly my favourite day so far this season came a week later as York City hosted Curzon in an FA Cup fixture. Long story cut short, this was a big game because Curzon fans and York fans have become really good friends over the times. One or two or...okay a lot of drinks were consumed, and it was an overall great day (of what I can remember). The 1-1 draw meant a replay (which Curzon famously won to reach the first round.

This meant Curzon were to play lowly Westfields FC of Hereford in the next round, live on BT Sport. This one featured cocktail making on the coach, a pitch invasion, a television appearance by a drunken Curzon fan (definitely not me) and one of the best days out all season. It was 1-1 again though, and another replay... which Curzon won 3-1. This was huge - the SECOND ROUND OF THE FA CUP!!!

Another visit to Slovakia meant I was able to catch two international games: Slovakia v Lithuania and Austria v Republic of Ireland. The Slovakia game saw me introduced to Matt's Slovak, French and various other nations' friends. I'm sure the CityArena was actually a United Nations Conference that evening. Slovensko ran out 4-0 winners. Austria v Ireland wasn't a spectacle on the pitch but it definitely was in the stands as 40'000 Austrians waved flags to some kind of power ballad which we now know to Rainhard Fenrich's I Am From Austria. Vienna was a stunning city and I've fallen in love with the place, so much so I'm trying to persuade Matt to move there instead!

Austria's pre-match show

The next game of note for me was Curzon's FA Cup game against AFC Wimbledon. You probably all know how that went. When Adam Morgan put Curzon 3-0 up with twenty minutes to go I was in dreamland. The plucky old Nash were stunning a play-off chasing League One side and were within touching distance of a famous third round. Then, in a cruel twist, Wimbledon scored four goals in the last ten minutes to snatch away victory from Curzon. I was shattered, I was emotionally drained, but most of all I was heartbroken. But, I was so so proud of everyone associated with Curzon Ashton that day, and always will be. From John, the manager, and Natalie, the CEO, the amount of hard work that went into the day was incredible, and it's just a shame the result didn't go the right way.

I worked a couple more Halifax and Fleetwood games in the build up to Christmas, before I headed back to Sussex. Finally, after an eternity, I was back in the stands at the Checkatrade.com Stadium watching the Crawley boys. And they certainly welcomed me back with a bang, as they ran out 3-1 winners in a game which saw FIFTEEN yellow cards. 

Matt joined me over in England, via Paris, as we set out on a three day three game voyage; the first being a Crawley awayday to Plymouth; the second was Sutton United v Bromley; the third Crawley v Yeovil. All of the games finished in 2-0 home wins strangely, but two more grounds were ticked off and Crawley had picked up six points in two home matches - I can't complain!

I'm confident I will be able to update this blog more regularly as the rest of the season goes on. I'm heading back to Slovakia again in February, and Germany in May, so hopefully I'll have a lot more to talk about. For now though, ciao. 

Craig