FC Vysocina Jihlava 5, FC Zenit Caslav 1

It's Friday night so it must be Jihlava!

I had no idea where Jihlava was, nor who they are, though I have heard of them. The most important thing is that I can get a train back to Prague afterwards. Which I am able to do, so that is all that matters! It's a fair old journey, about two and a half hours each way, but I can cope with that. It's extremely slow for the distances covered, but I'm used to the Czech railway system which isn't reknowned for it's high speed service.

The town of Jihlava is actually around 150 kilometres from the capital, & strange as it sounds, like many journeys in this country, it would be quicker to drive. Which is irrelevant anyway as I've never driven, but I thought you might want to know that.

The purpose of my trip is to go to a Czech Second Division match between FC Vysocina Jihlava & FC Zenit Caslav. I have vaguely heard of both sides, but that is it. Jihlava are midtable,7th from sixteen, on 17 points; while Caslav are three places behind. One of four teams a point behind the hosts tonight, on 16 points.

It's a six o'clock kick off, and for once I'm organised enough to be in town around four hours before that to have a look round. I've checked the town's tourism website, and there were one or two places of interest that caught my eye, the main one being their catacombs. Unfortunately shut for renovations. Sods law!

Thanks to the excellent messageboard on the Non League Matters site, inherited from the later, great Tony Kempster (RIP) one I had been exchanging, make that pestering if truth be known, a post under the moniker of Sigma, from the town of Olomouc, in the west of the country, about info on the places I was going to. Or, more specifically, details of grounds! He found two for me to look at in Jihlava, the first appeared to be their training ground. The other the delightfully old terraced home of TJ Sokol Bedrichov.

For those of you who like looking, and learning about Czech football, Sigma has his
own excellent football blog, covering his part of the country. Well worth a look!

Being the toally disorganised person that I am, I had left my print outs of directions back in my hostel, so only got a local free town map from the tourist information when I got to the town centre, which was about a mile or so from the main station. Annoyingly the Bedrichov ground was close to the station, so I had to walk back there. I jumped on a trolleybus, as it was uphill, not steep, but sharp enough to slow you down. I was lucky in that the driver let me on free, as I spoke no local lingo, and he didn't collect fares. I would guess you buy them pre-paid from newsagents and the like. One had passed me earlier, and not being used to them made me jump, even though it was a good twenty yards in front of me. The juice carrying poles, from the roof to the current strung up above the road, came loose and sprung wildly across the road. not knowing how they operate I was expecting a mjor disaster! The bus calmly pulled over at the next stop. The driver disembarked and nonchalantly strolled to the back, opened the boot, pulled out a long pole, a re-hooked it up to the pwer line above. Such an anti-climax after I had visions of me being 'lucky' enough to be viewing a major incident!

Having snapped both grounds it was time to head toward the main FC Vysocina Jihlava ground. A good half hour walk, guessing from the basic map, and I wasn't sure when daylight would fade, so I jumped on a bus, now knowing they were 'free', for the few stops down to where the stadium was. Well close enough anyway. According to the map. The problem with maps is that they are both flat, and often leave out minor roads. So it was uphill again through back streets, & across a park, which should have brought me out across the road from the stadium. I say 'should'...not too bad, I was only about half a mile out!

The floodlights are now ahead of me, over an hour before the 6.00pm kick off, and I see an open gate. I walk in, in the hope and anticipation, of getting a few daylight snaps inside, and before iIknow it I'm pitchside! I quickly point my camera left, right and centre, and am tempted to walk onto the pitch itself, but for some reson am loathe to draw too much attention to myself. I know it's only a few quid to get in, so am going to leave anyway, to pay to get in, so I can get a programme if there is one. But, walking behind one of the stands I'm finally clocked and politely asked to leave, my only words, after a shrug of my shoulders, being 'Sorry, English!'

Outside the turnstiles aren't open yet, so I stroll round to the training pitch behind the far goal, and on my return I can finally pay to get in. There are a number of stewards on the gate, searching bags, & in mine have a large bottle of coca cola for the train journey back to Prague. I do an about turn & put it under a nearby hedge, for collecting at the final whistle! I'm not addimg to it though...

Which is what I did at the port of Civitavecchia to Cagliari, during the 1990 World Cup finals. The local old bill had the port well under lockdown, allowing locals to give it large, while having a go at any English who gave it back. On getting to the port they were doing full bag inspections, and confiscating any alcohol they found, which was ALL of it! Not nice...a twelve hour crossing on a dry boat! (Wouldn't bother me now, mind!) I had a suty free bottle of scotch I'd been saving for the crossing. Luckily I saw what was happening, and while I had no time to neck it down, I dashed to the toilet, tipped about a third away, and pissed in the bottle to the top! Queuing politely back at Checkpoin Thieving Eyetie, I made a show of protesting when it got to my turn, smiling imwardly as they held my bottle of Bells aloft, and grinning and shouting to each other. I hope they enjoyed it as much as I never! ;-)

It's another Czech bargain price to get in, only 60Kc, which is just over two quid! A 12 page A5 programme is also free on the gate, a colour glossy cover, with eight pages of standard black and white inside, and being English I grab half a dozen!

I head behind the newst stand, behind the goal, which is the largest. This is stand B, which holds 2428. I'm sat in here, with the front row raised above the goal, with excellent views down the pitch. I love the floodlights which curve upwards. I wrongly presumed they are old fashioned ones, but were actually constructed, along with the new B stand, in 2006. To my left is a small stand, with a mere 101 seats, high up at about third floor level, for the VIPs and press. The far end has a small stretch of open terrace, and a hundred open seats, for away fans. It is totally empty tonight! And to my right is a shallower, older home stand, which holds 2428. There is a small area of terrace to the side of this nearest to the new stand, and this is where the noisy 'hardcore' fans were. About fifty of them. They had banners and jackets with 'highlanders' on them. My initial reaction was to jump to the wrong conclusion, and wind myself up, on the assumption that they had some sort of fan link up with a Scottish side. Nothing of the sort, thankfully!

Vysocina, in the club name, is not a sponsors name, which was my guess. It's actually the region where the town of Jihlava is. Which is a hilly area, hence the 'highlands' tag! Panic over, I can now happily support the home side!

It's a while to kick off yet, but I settle down & take my seat, the stand is sparcely populated at the moment, and the players are warming up down below. One wayward shot, with a fair bit of power smacks into the seats only teo places along from me! Was it something I said? I haven't said a bloody word! All I was doing was 'reading' the programme, or to be more precise, studying the statistics, which is all I can understand. Numbers good, letters bad!

The previous week Jihlava had been well and truly stuffed 5-1 away to third placed Banik Sokolov & after Caslav took a fourth minute lead, and the way the game looked like going early doors, another heavy defeat for them would not have surprised me. Which shows how little I know about football, as the final score was five one, but to the hosts!

From a throw in the ball goes over the static home defence & Martin Kotyza is on hand to pounce at the far post, knocking the ball over the line. A minute or so another Caslav player is allowed an 'after you Claude' moment, but his effort is just wide of the post.

The atmosphere is not good, practically no existent. Although the sixty or so 'Highlanders' to our right are making an effort the rest of the crowd are silent. It takes the chap behind the tannoy to get the crowd clapping for a free kick. The sort of rhythmic hand clapping that they like so much abroad. Not that it did any good...the effort is well wide, and so far, if you asked me what I think of Jihlava, my response would be 'bloody awful!'

But, almost as if they can read my mind, and don't want to disappoint their visitor from London, the game is turned on it's head! The equaliser comes on nineteen minutes when Stanislav Tecl heads home to level. And only three minutes late it's the same player who puts them ahead, once more off of his bonce. The home fans were up on their feet cheering, but in one sense it was almost as annoying as the sterile, manufactured atmosphere that you see on 'Match of the Day' week after week, as 'We will rock you!' blared out of the loudspeakers. Why?

Now it's game on, which is just as well, because the temperature is dropping, so I need a half decent game to keep my mind off the cold. And the cockles are warmed six minutes before half time when the visiting keeper fumbles, from a corner as if he were Scottish, which is ironic what with the hosts being the Highlanders, and this time it's Jan Penc who heads home.

I spend half time wandering around the outside beer stands, wistfully looking at them, as they do look so tempting, but I just cannot as a recovering alcoholic! Thankfully I'm mentally strong enough to resist the 'temptations' and go back to the stand before the second half, being sad enough to stop the multi-coloured hedgehog thingy that is the home mascot to stop at the front of the stand and pose for a photo!

Sat back in my seat for the second half I almost had a 'highlight of the game' moment, when one of the beer sellers who worked the aisles with trays of eight beverages, stumbled over a seat while trying to get his wares to a fan, but-just-managed to keep his footing, without spilling a drop. There was a collective 'ooh!' from those around us, and another, 'aah!', with a tinge of disappointment I detected, as he held the lot!

Jihlava continue to dominate, and have more of the play, just wide, or a whisker over the bar, but it's not until over half of this second period has gone that they add another.

The man on the mic continues to try to whip up the crowd, trying to encourage a 'Mexican Wave' or two. I'm more than pleased when it's only half-hearted, with most of the 1,450 punters more interested in the football, too cold to bother, or a combination of the two. maybe like me they just can't stand bloody 'Mexican waves'!

I suspect most are here for the goals, & there is another. With the fifth hitting the back of the net not long after, on 78 minutes, for the last goal of the game. But it didn't mean the action was over, as I see my first red card of my holiday, with Caslav's Vladimir Dobal getting an early bath for a second yellow, a foul just outside the box.

The game is almost over, we're into stoppage time, and I'm moving rapidly toward the exit, & checking and double checking my route back to the station, for now every second is vital! The main station is on the edge of town, and I've already realised I will not have enough time to make my train back to Prague. But there is a nearer local station, which appears to have a coonection, when I looked at the non-English timetable there when I arrived. Trying not to panic I trot in the right direction. 'Trot' not being quite the wrong word, I'm not fit enough to break out into a trot, it's more of a 'brisk walk'.

I stick to the main roads, as my map is only a tourist type handout, which I have been using all afternoon, but has already resulted in me double backing on some side streets, which aren't on there. I find the station, but realise the train I thought I was dashing for isn't on this timetable, I have no idea what i was looking at, but there is a train that gives me a 'two minute' window at the main station. After my initial panic, as in 'fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm gonna have to sleep on a freezing station in the middle of the country, a long way from my bed in Prague!' I realise that the 'local train' I think I'm going to get is in fact the cross-country service that I need to get my connection to Prague, & it also stops at this Jihlava station. Phew! I'm starting to relax now, and crack open my bottle of coca cola, which I remembered to pick up from the bushes outside the ground.

The station is almost deserted. Bar two Germans. I don't speak to them, I don't want to make a tit of myself. Which is weird really, as they are doing the same as me. Groundhopping! I can't be certain of that, but they spoke German, one had a copy of 'Kicker' in his pocket; & the other had a camera, was half pissed, and had a supply of beer!

I'm sure they would have been interesting company, presuming they spoke English, but I am always reticent to approach foreigners really in this situation, although I'm amenable to them chatting to me. Strange, I know.

Reminds me of the time, a couple of seasons ago, when I went to Dieppe, to watch Red Star play, with fellow Dulwich Hamlet fans Paul Griffin & Mark Hutton. I was wandering around the Canadian War Cemetery there, which was very close to our hotel. The place was deserted, bar a couple of Canadians paying their respects. They saw us, and we clocked them. Yet I couldn't approach them to see why they were there. I would have loved to hear their story, but just couldn't summon up the inner courage to try to converse. Which is bloody stupid!

As it was tonight. The Germans also end up in Prague..so clearly they were crazy groundhoppers like me. Sadly I will never know...