I approached Fraser MacDonald as to whether he could write an article for the CDB's Section, relating to his travels to Serbia.
The following is Part two of a Dundee fans European Quest
This time, the man in the “See You Jimmy” hat and Firkin Brewery top looked distinctly un-Scottish. It was in fact “Blue,” a guy from the pub who’d been rather pissed last night, and was even more so now. “Come and have a beer,” he slurred. “I’m with Colin.”
“It’s ten in the morning,” we explained, “and we’re shopping. Beer later.”
No, Blue had not been to bed yet, and nor had Colin. In fact, they’d spent the night at a techno party on a boat, then tanned a bottle of spirits at Blue’s flat. Colin did make it back to bed for a couple of hours’ sleep, but when we met up at the hotel, he was still there, and amazingly, so were the guys from the Social Club!
On Friday, the Ellenbank boys had gone to Smederevo to watch the team train, and had negotiated a marvellous 100 Mark price (£35) with their taxi driver which included a 60 mile round trip and waiting for them all day. Alexander, the driver, got a great deal though, meeting the players and enjoying a VIP lunch with the boys, Dundee and the Sartid officials! He had to explain all this to his rather surprised wife when she phoned him to see where he was.
So today, Alexander and two of his colleagues took the eight of us, plus Ivan, to Smederevo in a fleet of Mercedes. Blue did want to come, but was too drunk, even for a Dundee fan, and had to be dragged off the bonnet of one of the taxis before we could leave!
We set up our flags at the back of the corner of terracing which would form the away end, and headed into town to buy Sartid tops, programmes (with a lot of orders from home to cover, one of whom is a grateful Editor of Boab's Little Piece Of Scotland) and of course beer. The game wouldn’t kick off for another 3 hours, so we had plenty of time to kill. In the bar, we met a local radio crew who interviewed Bill on air and, when asked what the difference was between Dundee and United, we erupted into a chorus of “United, United, you are shi*e!”
The police gave us an escort to the ground, sirens blaring, lights flashing, as our convoy sped to past the drenched locals who all seemed to be travelling on foot. Once at the ground, and having bought programmes, we followed police directions into our section. This, to avoid the home fans, involved clambering up a muddy hill! The stadium toilet facilities are a concrete shed outside the ground, and the terracing 1 foot risers, no crash barriers, and not even a fence at one end to protect you from certain death should you sway too far to the right.
Despite the predictions of 20,000 fans being crammed into the 16,000 capacity ground, there was a lot of empty terracing, and I estimated around 8,000 fans at the game. We eight, plus Ivan and the three taxi drivers, had a section of terracing in the middle of some home fans, separated by police who nevertheless seemed content to let home fans wander through our section and who, as the game went on, reduced out section from a corner to just two rows!
Despite being outnumbered even more than is usual for us at Parkhead, we made plenty of noise, and in the fifth minute, erupted as Caballero chested the ball over the line to give us a lead and an away goal. I’d seen Fab Cab at the hotel on Friday night and asked him to score for us, and he didn’t let me down with a classy finish after Artero’s cross had been headed back across the line by Rae. Quickly, our mobile phones came out and I relayed the good news to David Young of Dundee FC Online.
Our dream start spurred Sartid into action, and they managed to string passes together well despite the slippery conditions. Although the rain had stopped, their lack of diving certainly helped their cause. If they had spent as much time on the ground as at Dens, they would certainly have needed the swimming gear recommended by Ivano Bonetti. In 17 minutes, a mixup in defence saw Marrocco robbed and Langfield forced to pull down the onrushing Sartid forward. Although Langfield claimed his arm had been trodden on, we all thought it was a fair penalty and Mudrinic put Sartid level from the spot.
Two minutes later, the Bulgarian referee showed his true colours as he gleefully pointed to the spot as a Sartid shot came off Coyne’s arm from point blank range. There was no way this was a penalty, and we screamed our disbelief, but Mudrinic stayed cool and put the home side ahead. Dundee gave the ball away far too often in the first half and were duly punished as Aleksic rose unmarked from a corner to put Sartid in a commanding 3-1 lead with 10 minutes of the half remaining.
My battery was running low as I phoned the goals in to David Young, so Allan and I took turns to relay the news of each goal. Half time saw Artero replaced by Robertson, and as I relayed this news home, I thought for a minute we had gone 4-1 down, but Sartid had only hit the side netting. Dundee played better football now and carved out a great goal on the hour, Caballero dancing through three players in the box to hit the byline and cross into space where even Sara couldn’t miss, and he duly nodded home.
Dundee pushed forward now, and we sensed that we had a good chance to progress on away goals. Things looked promising as Caballero raced clear with 13 minutes left, but he was hauled to the ground by a Sartid defender. Expecting a free kick just outside the box, we were amazed to see the referee give the award to them, and even more so to see a red card shown to Caballero. Now for most of the game, I’d tried to keep the boys singing (on reflection, you need more than eight to keep “Ivano and Dario” going for any length of time), but I’d actually spent more time screaming “Oh for f**k’s sake, ref!”
The blundering (or bribed?) Bulgar had already booked numerous Dundee players including, to our disbelief, Romano twice. It wasn’t really a surprise that he robbed us of our best attacking option just when we looked like snatching the tie, but we were still shocked. Wilkie was soon sacrificed for Milne, but he couldn’t find a way through despite his apparent resemblance to Savo Milosevic, and Bonetti’s gamble at the back failed as Sartid scored two goals in the final three minutes to wrap up the tie and render our plans for Munich useless.
Still, we roared the Dees off the park, and they acknowledged the small but vocal travelling support. While many walked off despondent, after swapping shirts with Sartid players, Barry Smith and Lee Wilkie came over and we broke the police cordon to run down and grab their shirts and Lee’s training top, which I proudly wore back to Belgrade. The police escorted us down onto the pitch and out the player’s exit, but promptly left us alone in the car park with the Sartid fans close by before once more escorting us to the city limits in a speeding convoy like the Very Important Visitors we felt!
We returned to Belgrade, thanked our taxi drivers again, and arranged for them to take us to the airport before grabbing a bite to eat and returning once more to the Irish Pub.
Quieter than usual, at least until Borba turned up close to midnight, the bar staff were glad to see us and played the “It’s My Dundee” CD which we’d given them. Nenad the barman was sporting his new Dundee top and kept the beer and vodka flowing until closing time – and beyond. Although Beky the manager had turned up at around 2am, the fact that she was out of her box helped us to keep drinking the vodka lock-in style as they measured up the other spirits. All drinks had to manually measured to a line each night! We eventually went home at about 3 o’clock, leaving Beky in her Ellenbank Bar polo-shirt and boyfriend Nenad to enjoy the rest of the night without us drunk Scotsmen!
Although we didn’t see the fabled Argentina style away strip (not yet ready, we were told), a couple of the lads got their hands on the last ever used 2000-2001 red strips.
Our trip back saw us bid farewell to our faithful taxi drivers, leaving them with Dundee tops and scarves as souvenirs. In fact, we must have given away a dozen Dundee tops, 200 pens, 200 badges, numerous scarves, and in return, we now have a healthy contingent of Dundee supporters in Belgrade.
Upon our return to Gatwick, we picked up a Sunday Post and Scotland on Sunday from the international section of the newsagent! Unfortunately, even back in Edinburgh where the other Scottish tabloids were on sale, none bore the rumoured photographs of our weary band, but we were able to visit the Dundee website from Gatwick’s departure lounge and print off photos taken by one of our Serbian friends and uploaded on Saturday!
The end of a great weekend, despite the scoreline. As I knew from previous travels with the national side, it’s not the result which counts, it’s the experience. I doubt I ever would have visited Belgrade if not for our game, but we made some great friends and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. It is a great shame that more Dundee fans did not make the trip, as we now face a wait of at least a year to see Dundee play in Europe again.
I am, however, already planning to go and see Gavin Rae playing in dark blue in Brussels in September, but until then will have to forego Munich in favour of Motherwell, Livingston and other awe-inspiring destinations. And I can’t wait!