Since watching European football over the years, I've developed my favorite venues based solely on the feeling I get while watching matches on television.
There are grounds that are made for matches to be played on a sun-splashed afternoon. Craven Cottage in London, on the banks of the Thames River, home of Fulham Football Club, is the first that comes to mind. For me, that beautiful, quaint anachronistic stadium is like looking at a painting – the kind that makes the air around you the same temperature as your skin, as if you floating without a care. It makes me feel like I'm ten years old, full of wonder. But watching a match played there at night does absolutely nothing for me. Or at the very best reminds me of watching a double-A-level baseball game.
For a night game, there's nothing like Celtic Park.
Celtic Park, the home of Celtic Football Club, is sometimes known as Parkhead after the neighborhood, and is situated in the southeastern part of Glasgow, Scotland next to a cemetery known as the Eastern Necropolis. The stadium was built in 1892, right across the street from the original stadium site, in a disused brickyard. Today as an all-seater stadium, it holds a bit more than 60,000. The same size as the home ground of Arsenal Football Club, Celtic's Tuesday night opponent.
While watching a night match at Celtic Park, I am still mesmerized by the look of everything. The bright emerald grass. The yellowish-amber color made by the lights up under the grandstand roofs. The bright yellow steps in the grandstands in between the sections of seats. The green iron work of the old single-level grandstand that for some reason reminds me of the old water well pump handle at my grandparent's cottage. I can't tell if the place is brand new or a hundred years old. And the green and white scarves held aloft with arms apart and raised upward so as to hold horizontal the symbol of allegiance. The replica jerseys. And the 'hoops' style game jerseys of the Celtic players on the field. A green-and-white horizontality permeates the entire venue.
The anticipation was electric.
So when I heard that Fox would show Tuesday's Celtic vs Arsenal match live, a Champions League match - one of those so-called "European Nights" - on Fox Sports Net, in high definition, I damn near hyperventilated in anticipation. If I got that magic feeling of watching a Celtic home match on television in standard definition, maybe HD-viewing would make me feel higher than I did while in college passing around rolled paper-wrapped tubes of cannabis.
Well, it didn't produce quite the same kind of high, but it was enjoyable nonetheless for all the aesthetics I've described. It was, in a word, stunning to witness.
Arsenal came into Glasgow on the heels of thrashing Everton 6-1 in Liverpool in the Premier League opener on Saturday. Celtic had won their SPL opening match, too, but something was wrong in all of buildup to Tuesday night's game. All the talk was by Scottish reporters and Celtic management - how Arsenal might not be able to stand up against the cauldron that is Celtic Park on a European Night. After all, English clubs had a 1-8 record in Celtic Park on European Nights.
It kind of reminded me of the mystique that is Tiger Stadium in Baton Rouge for a Saturday night SEC college football game – the mystique generated by the romanticism of Southern sports writers.
But this was an Arsenal squad that had found its confidence, and even a subtle swagger. A squad that had members who have played, and won, at massive venues such as the San Siro and the Bernabeu on European Nights previous. The pre-match quotes from north of Hadrian's Wall sounded like talk that is spoken to cover up one's own fear. Kind of like my dog who when I let out at night runs into the darkness with his chest protruded and barks to the black night as if to say, "You better watch out, whatever you are, wherever you are. I'm here, and I'm… I'm… I'm bad!"
He's really terrified. Which is why my wife and I call him The Boo Boo.
The game itself was another matter.
It was cloudy – it looked cold on television, because you expect it to be cold for a night game at a northern latitude of nearly 56 degrees. But it was warm, humid, and under the lights of Celtic Park, it looked inviting.
So the game finally got underway just after that wonderful Celtic tradition, The Huddle, and before that, the singing-in-unison of "You'll Never Walk Alone." See if your hair doesn't stand on end during that pre-match Celtic Park ritual.
The teams played cautiously even in the first few minutes. Leading to the 8th minute when a Celtic pass back to their own goal keeper was almost slow enough to allow an Arsenal theft for an opening goal. On the other end, Arsenal, one of the great passing teams of Europe, was not connecting and their longish balls were rather way off.
Maybe it was the mystique of the cauldron. Maybe it was real.
Then in the 12th minute, Andrei Arshavin, the diminutive Russian giant goal scorer for Arsenal was the recipient of some beautiful short one-touch passing inside the 18-yard box. But just after he slammed his chance into the left side of the net, he was called offside.
Shortly after, Celtic took advantage of play. But Arsenal retaliated again with some fine short passing around the box which led to a free kick being given to Robin van Persie just outside the box.
Then, probably the play of the match.
In the 18th minute, after Arsenal's free kick was stopped, Celtic pushed the ball up quickly, building a lightening counterattack, all the way down the field into the 18-yard box, where Arsenal's defender Thomas Vermaelen, newly-signed from Ajax in the Dutch league, recovered to tackle the ball away from the Celtic attacker from behind. Both players ended in a heap on the pitch. A stunning defensive play that kept Celtic from possibly going into the lead, which would have elevated the volume of Celtic Park to that of the U2 concert being held simultaneously at nearby Hampden Park, the Scottish national football stadium.
The game then transformed into a match where neither side seemed to make any real opportunities for themselves. The goal keepers were looking more like defensive backs than goal keepers saving shots on goal. Then in about the 38th minute, the game got a bit niggly as they say – Celtic were trying to get under the Arsenal player's skin a bit by being physical in their harassment. As the announcer described, the temperature was starting to rise to bring the stadium almost to a boil. Both sides then got off a shot each on goal, both easily saved by the keepers.
He might not have known a lot about it.
Father Fortune turned and blessed the Arsenal. After an infraction on an Arsenal player was called by the referee against Celtic, a free kick was awarded, from at least 40 yards from the left center. Robin van Persie stood by the ball as the wall of Celtic and Arsenal players formed 10 yards downfield. Arsenal captain Cesc Fabregas stood near van Persie. At the referee's whistle allowing the free kick to commence, van Persie just pushed the ball a bit to the right to let Fabregas have a whack at it. And that is what the captain did, sending the ball goal-bound toward the left post, except that Arsenal's William Gallas, in the 18-yard box, instantly found himself in the way of the missile.
Gallas on reflex tried to get out of the way by crouching down and moving to his left. But instead of getting out of the way, the ball glanced off his right kidney area of his back, just enough to send the ball toward the right post, but not enough to take the spin off that Fabregas had put on the ball. It changed direction toward just outside the right post and then with the retained spin curled goalward just enough to give Arsenal a 1-0 lead with only 2 minutes of regular time left in the half.
The brilliant part of the goal was the spontaneous call by the British play-by-play announcer. During the first several minutes of the match, the audio feed that Fox was using, the announcing team that was part of the European feed, went out, requiring a Fox studio announcer somewhere in the United States to call the match. The poor guy was indeed poor, calling the action by resorting to reciting the name of the player receiving each pass, and getting the names wrong all too often to boot. Well, I'm sure he didn't expect to be calling the match.
But somewhere into the first half, the feed from Europe thankfully resurfaced, and I was back listening to wonderful description of action.
And when Gallas scored the goal to put Arsenal in the lead, I heard the announcer's call, but I didn't appreciate its genius of spontaneous delivery until I watched the match again on replay:
Gallas, Bendtner, Vermaelen, Sagna, all forward.
Big moment, this for Celtic, just before halftime.
A strike for Fabregas! A deflection so cruel!
It's gone in off William Gallas!
And William Gallas might not have known a lot about it, but, he gives Arsenal a lead at Celtic Park just before halftime!
Absolute genius.
More bad luck for Celtic.
After halftime, Arsenal came out attacking. Only eleven minutes into the half, Celtic made a substitution, bringing in the hulky Marc Antione Fortune to replace Georgios Samaras up front. But, Celtic continued to look pretty inept.
Then seemingly out of nowhere, Celtic made a flash run down the left flank into the Arsenal end. Fortune now streaking toward the left end line crossed the ball to the middle where Arsenal defender and accidental goal scorer William Gallas either (1) made a great defensive save by poking the ball out of bounds just wide of his own goal, or (2) almost evened the score by punching the ball into his own net.
A bit of both. But what justice that might have been for Celtic.
Nevertheless, Arsenal made their own substitution, taking Arshavin off for Diaby, the French midfielder. And just a minute later, the same Diaby quickly dribbled the ball upfield, dished off into the left flank to Gael Clichy who then crossed the ball to the middle of the attacking zone where Gary Caldwell of Celtic did what William Gallas didn't do – in trying to desperately punch the ball away before an Arsenal attacker gained possession in front of goal, Caldwell flicked it into his own goal to put Arsenal ahead 2-0.
The air left the room.
Arsenal pretty much kept possession for most of the remaining 20 minutes of the match. All Celtic could do was to flub an attacking pass from Fortune to McDonald in the 18-yard box, and the frustration that was the home side boiled over a bit as McDonald barked back at his teammate. The air left the old place, Arsenal seemingly played keep-away for the remaining tortured minutes, and at the final whistle, took a fortunate two-goal-to-nil lead in the two-match affair that will surely be won by the London club in their own stadium next Tuesday evening, after which Arsenal will advance to the Group Stage of the Champions League, and Celtic will have to continue their European nights in the lesser Europa League.
If that doesn't happen, I will be back with another match report called Miracle South of Hadrian's Wall.
