#20: Charming Yet Inhospitable, Remembering The Old Lansdowne Road

Home to Irish football and rugby for over a hundred years, the old Lansdowne Road stadium was the scene of a myriad of special moments in Irish sporting history before being demolished to make way for the Aviva Stadium.

Ste McGovern, Colm Boohig and Peter Henry (FootballFaithful.com), reminisce about the old ground, freezing cold nights, pissing on the terraces, five Mars bars for a pound, and some incredible football memories along the way.

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Remembering The Old Lansdowne Road

What makes a house a home?

Rose-tinted glasses make everything look, well, rosier, but every now and again we permit ourselves to out on a pair of hindsight spectacles and reminisce fondly.

Despite never actually belonging to the sport’s governing body in Ireland, Lansdowne Road felt like the true home of Irish football for several generations of fans. Residents of Dalymount park still cling to that moniker, but it is a relic of a bygone era that somehow still remains. Lansdowne at least had the good grace to make way, eventually.

While the East Stand was impressive in a way, the rest of the ground was ancient. The terraces were the product of a different time. As were the beams holding up the West Stand, obstructing views right, left and centre. The place shook ever so slightly whenever a DART ran underneath, a sure sign of its age. Those with standing tickets had to queue to use the temporary portaloos, leading some to not bother waiting in line and relieve themselves there and then on the South Terrace.

And in typically Irish fashion, the weather was generally unforgiving. On a sunny day you were oppressed by the heat beating down on you. On a rainy day you were soaked to the bone. Almost every time I attended a match there I was frozen solid. You were truly at the mercy of the elements in the open arena.

And yet, there was a charm to it all. The floodlights. The clubhouse inside the ground. Being able to see inside the stadium from the DART. The old school scoreboard. Getting five Mars bars for a pound.

As all of my memories of the old Lansdowne Road are exclusively from my childhood, the schoolboy stand holds a special place in this writer’s heart. The access to cheap tickets was tremendous, allowing our entire football team attend together on occasion. That in particular is sorely missed. Sure, there are child season tickets available at decent rates these days. But it’s not the same. Whereas the terrace allowed you to roam wherever you please — sometimes allowing you to jump into the premium front row seats when they had been vacated towards the end of a game — now the youngsters have to be piled into one row of seating. Perhaps this is just a personal grievance, given I had to sit in front of one such restless group during the famous 1-0 win over Germany.

The age of the ground was a problem, of course, but it also had its benefits. The dressing rooms and other surrounds were not up to the same standards to which more salubrious opposition were accustomed. This was taken to another level every now and again, the level of the grass changing depending on the technical ability of the visitors. A bit of shithousery never hurt anyone.

Like any home, it carries bad memories as well as good ones.

The English riot in 1995 is the obvious go-to here, but there was also Jack Charlton’s first game as Ireland manager, which ended in a 1-0 friendly loss to Wales in 1986. Big Jack would have to wait over a year to get his first win at the ground; a 1-0 friendly victory over Brazil.

From that point until 2007, the Republic of Ireland lost just five competitive games at the old Lansdowne Road (Spain, Czech Republic, Austria, Switzerland, France). A fortress, pure and simple.

The shiny new Aviva Stadium has already played host to as many competitive losses in half that time (Russia, Germany, Sweden, Serbia, Denmark), including a couple of heavy beatings. Is there a connection there? Maybe, maybe not. A more welcoming ground might give you less of an edge, but there are many variables at play here, not just the stadium.

It does play into this narrative that the Aviva is not really ‘home’. It is superior than its predecessor in almost every conceivable way; better seats, better toilets, better bars, and just better aesthetics. By the end of the previous era, sports fans were crying out for a new stadium we could be proud of. We’ve got that now, but for all we’ve gained, we’ve also lost a lot. The aforementioned affordable tickets, the ease of access which has been replaced by the maddening crowd control, and, most of all, the once great atmosphere.

Ironically, the Dublin 4 venue always felt like a football stadium, despite being owned by the Irish Rugby Football Union. Now it feels like a rugby venue in which football just happens to be played in, despite the fact the FAI no co-own it.

In so many ways, the old Lansdowne Road stadium was an anachronism. It was impoverished, creaking, and past its sell-by date. A real shithole. But it was our shithole. Home.


 

EURO 80: The Tournament That Time Forgot

Did you know that Belgium have reached the final of a major tournament? Don’t worry if you didn’t, because no one ever seems to remember EURO 80, writes Ste McGovern.

General consensus insists that this generation of Belgian players are the best bunch that the small country has ever produced, and that may be proven to be true in due course. But you would be forgiven for forgetting, or just outright not knowing, that Belgium have in fact reached the final of a major tournament before.

That success must be put in its proper context, however.

EURO 1980 is a long forgotten competition, and perhaps with good reason. The football was mediocre, the format was odd, and, well, the Germans won, so as you were. It happened to be sandwiched in between two famous European Championships: Antonin Panenka’s winning penalty for Czechoslovakia in 1976, and Michel Platini’s France in 1984.

Aside from the games involving Italy, the matches were poorly attended as well. Only 4,726 people would witness Czechoslovakia’s 3-1 win over Greece, whereas 46,816 were in attendance to see the Italians play Spain two days beforehand. Looking back at the images now, it is painfully obvious how empty the grounds are for some of the games.

For the first time ever, eight countries would compete in the finals in Italy. They were split into two groups of four. But instead of four teams progressing to the semi-finals, the winners of each group would go straight to the final, while the two second-placed teams would face off for third place. It’s a far cry from this year’s edition, where 24 teams will compete for 16 places in the knockout round.

While it was a relatively boring edition of Europe’s premier international tournament, it did have its moments. Ray Wilkins scored one of the best goals ever by an England player against Belgium. He gently lobbed the ball over the defenders and, upon retrieving it, casually struck it on the half-volley into the top corner. He beautifully assisted his own beautiful goal.

The lead only lasted three minutes though, as Jan Ceulemans grabbed an equaliser from a corner in the 29th minute. Afterwards fighting broke out behind the England goal and the police fired tear gas into the crowd. It was a sign of things to come in English football for the decade ahead.

For England the draw was a terrible result and they would end up finishing third in the group, losing 1-0 to Italy and beating Spain 2-1 in a dead rubber. Belgium, on the other hand, were invigorated by the result.

“England had a better side so we were surprised to hold them to a draw,” Ceulemans later said. “It was then that we started to believe in our chances.”

Crucially the Red Devils would follow it up with a win over Spain, Eric Gerets and Julien Cools scoring either side of a Quini goal to win 2-1. All they needed to do in their final game with the hosts was not lose. The emphasis was therefore on Italy to go and win, but having only managed one goal thus far — Marco Tardelli’s winner against the English — it was a step too far. A heroic performance from goalkeeper Theo Custers helped them secure a 0-0 draw. The Belgians went through on goals scored, while Italy would finish runners-up in Group B and go into the third place play-off.

Meanwhile in Group A, West Germany were making hay in what was a difficult group. Aside from whipping boys Greece, they would have to contend with holding European champions Czechoslovakia and Netherlands, who had reached the last two World Cup finals.

The Dutch, perhaps more than anyone else at the time, deserved some silverware to match the elegant and excellent football they displayed over the previous decade. They made a good start, with a 1-0 victory over Greece. The real test would come on matchday two, however.

Knowing that, realistically, only victory over West Germany would give them any chance of making the final, it could not have gone worse for the Oranje. Klaus Allofs opened the scoring after 20 minutes in a dominant first half, although the game was still there for the Dutch. That was obliterated in the second half, when in the space of five minutes Allofs would score two more goals to get his hat-trick.

Netherlands would get two goals back late on, but it wasn’t enough. All they could hope for was the playoff, but a 1-1 draw with the Czechs in the last group game closed that door. It was the end of an era. They would fail to qualify for another major international tournament until 1988, where they would finally win the European Championships in Germany.

The third place playoff, which was scrapped after this tournament, ended in a 1-1 draw between Italy and Czechoslovakia. It went to penalties, where of course Panenka would score the fifth. That didn’t decide it this time, though. 17 penalties would be taken and scored, until AC Milan’s Fulvio Collovati stepped up and missed. It was a fairly disappointing tournament for the host nation, although they would go on to win the World Cup just two years later.

Having won the competition in 1972 — with a World Cup win in 1974, don’t forget — West Germany reached their third consecutive Euros final in 1980. It was a nation used to success, but this was also a young squad, the average age of which was just 24.5. Lothar Matthaus, aged 19 at the time, was their youngest outfield player and had yet to win a cap before the tournament.

“We had a new and very young team,” Karl-Heinz Rummenigge later said of the West Germans. “We weren’t favourites to win at all. Everyone thought that if we could make it to third or fourth place in the tournament, then that would be success.”

Belgium had finished third in their home Euros in 1972, but that was out of four teams. On that occasion they lost to West Germany, who they would face in the final this time around. They had been solid, if not spectacular, up to that point, and would need to up their game if they were to spring a surprise.

It didn’t look likely early on, as Horst Hrubesch scored after just ten minutes. The Hamburg striker, who only made it into the squad as a late replacement for the injured Klaus Fischer, latched onto a chipped ball from Bernd Schuster and hit it on the run. That lead would last for over an hour.

René Vandereycken would equalise from the penalty spot and extra time looked likely from there. That was, until Hrubesch popped up again. Back home he was known as the Kopfball-Ungeheuer, or Heading Monster. A charming nickname, but one with good reason. So confident was Rummenigge that Hrubesch would score the winner from his corner, he apparently told a cameraman next to the corner flag to aim his lens at his teammate.

And so it was. With 88 minutes on the clock, Hrubesch headed home the decisive goal to clinch the country’s second European Championship. The 29 year old had only acquired 7 caps before the tournament, but who knows how this game might have gone had he not been called up?

@TheNoveltyAct