Yesterday was one of the first of what was to be a number of
daunting travel days over the next week or so. Not only was it my last hockey
game for three days, but it signalled the end of my time out East for a while,
as my route winds its way towards Western Austria.
Home of Sparta and Lev. I felt dirty being there. |
It was an incredibly strange journey though. I had to change
trains in Breclav, which was nothing untoward, but the train from Breclav to
Prague seemed racked with problems, notwithstanding the fact that it was around
an hour late getting into Prague itself. On the side of the train it said that
it was stopping at Ceska Trebisova and Pardubice, but we never made it to those
stations, instead, spending around half an hour stuck at the provincial
backwater of Caslav, seemingly waiting for nothing at all. The train was
deserted for the whole trip though, as I had a whole six person compartment for
myself.
With the game starting at seven, I eventually got into Prague
at just gone four, so I hopped onto the underground and headed for the Novotel
hotel, where I’ve stayed once before, and where I know the WiFi password. I
bought the cheapest drink on the menu and hoarded the free wifi for around half
an hour before making my way up towards the Tipsport Arena to meet up with
Canadian and fellow EuroHockey colleague Derek O’Brien. After about half an
hour that seemed to cover every major issue in world hockey, it was time to
walk the short distance to the rink, where I was introduced to every Czech
hockey journalist in the country it seemed. Names I’d heard about but were now
finally meeting, including a writer from Orli Znojmo, who gave me the full
rundown on Mike Danton. Thanks to Derek being able to pull a few strings I was
able to get into the game for free as well, although my ticket wasn’t actually
there, the guy giving out the tickets just seemed to be fed up so gave me a
ticket out of sheer apathy.
Lev Praha won a dire 1:0 game. |
So that all happened, and I haven’t even covered the game. Although
to be honest, there’s not a lot to say. It was a really tepid affair, with Lev
scoring in the first period through Jakub Klepis, whose one timer was far too
hot for Erik Ersberg to handle, and after that, Lev just seemed to be content
with clearing the puck to the neutral zone as soon as they came under any
pressure. Donbass were incredibly blunt going forward though. The only good
thing about the team on the ice was their jersies. The most interesting things
for me were off the ice, such as the hilarious music choices by the DJ at the
game. Not only did they play Kalinka numerous times, but a techno version of
Katyusha, as well as Ruslana. They also played Tarzan Boy, which in my opinion
is the greatest goal song ever since the Slovakian side had it as their goal
song at the World Juniors in Alberta last Christmas. The Donbass coach was also
amusing, as he started pulling hilarious shapes whenever he wanted to signal a
line change.
It was 1:0 in the third period, and with the game having no
real atmosphere, the three of us decided that we would go and support Donbass
for the third period, and go and stand with their 10 or so fans in the away
end. To be fair to them, they tried their best to support their team, but they
did need some motivation to start singing. Venca was incredibly good at either
getting them to shout Shaibu or Vpered Donbass. The game would finish with Lev
taking it 1:0, of what was the worst game of my trip so far.
Вперёд Донбасc! |
So the game was over, and I still had around three hours to
kill before my night train back to Vienna left from Hlavni Nadrazi, so I was
asked if I wanted to go to the tea room. I was quite bemused at first, but
something was obviously lost in translation, as it turned out to be quite a hip
place which also did shisha. A good two hours there chatting about anything and
everything was a really enjoyable way to spend my evening, which I had not
expected at all, and with even better company.
From there, it was back to the station, time to say goodbye
to Betty and Venca, and then board my six hour night train to Vienna
Westbahnhof. Precariously placed on a mattress around 2/3rds the width and
2/3rds the length of a single mattress, I can unequivocally say that it wasn’t the
best night’s sleep I’ve ever had, but I’ve no complaints really. From there, it
was onto the Railjet to my next destination, Bregenz, right on the Swiss
border, where I will hopefully be catching up with some of the Austrians I met
out in Ljubljana for the World Championships in April.
And then Switzerland awaits.
That’s all for now,
J.
J.
Felt dirty in the Tipsport Arena, Jon ?
ReplyDeleteAww...
Hope Switzerland is OK