The light and amicable atmosphere differed from the tournament’s curtain raiser between France and Romania. Those 90 minutes were both antiseptic and anti-climatic, as opening matches often are. At the Stade De France, a landmark stadium on the northern outskirts of Paris, schmoozing politicians (president Francois Hollande first and foremost with his blue scarf), prawn-and-sandwich-gorging VIPs, middle-class fans and football-obsessed workers with a category four ticket, attended Les Bleus’ first 90 minutes of Euro 2016 action. Dimitri Payet alleviated a French paralysis with a wonder strike in the 87th minute.
Back in Nice, Lewandowski didn’t score, but his attacking partner Adam Milik did. On his way to the stadium, Bill Houston, a retired mining executive and Northern Ireland fan, had been confident of his team’s potential to last in the group stages. “Northern Ireland produces a crop of good players every 20-30 years,” said Houston. “It’s in cycles, you know. Wales’s cycle is every 50 years.”Travails of a travelling fan
Houston and his wife had flown in from Johannesburg in South Africa, where they live. The couple had to immediately return to the airport after the game to catch a flight to the next host city, slogging their way across the country, a feeling familiar to fans, media and officials reliant on public transport, often late at night, and staying at shabby, overpriced hotels.
Not that fans were dissuaded by the many logistical pitfalls that accompany a major tournament. Swiss Albanians drove for hours to Lens to watch their native country take on their adopted nation, Belgians snapped up 15,000 tickets for their highly anticipated clash with Italy in Lyon, and 30,000 Hungarians flooded Marseille for their pivotal Group F game against Iceland.In the corporate world and mindset of Uefa, fans are often cattle, to be milked for profit, but the romanticism of grown men and woman painting their faces in national colors, wearing garish scarfs, donning outlandish outfits, hoisting pints and singing hoarsely, all in a football-induced state of trance, remains.
A few rotten apples
At times, misbehavior did lurk around the corner. In Marseille’s old port Russian and English fans clashed violently, the shadow of hooliganism rearing its ugly head once more. In the '70s, hooliganism had been rampant in England and the Heysel stadium disaster marked the savage culmination of a culture of violence.Nick Hornby summed up succinctly what led to the unfortunate death of 39 fans that night in Brussels in his book Fever Pitch, "The kids' stuff that proved murderous in Brussels belonged firmly and clearly on a continuum of apparently harmless but obviously threatening acts – violent chants, wanker signs, the whole, petty hardact works – in which a very large minority of fans had been indulging for nearly 20 years. In short Heysel was an organic part of a culture that many of us, myself included, had contributed towards."
The English were, however, not culpable, with Russian hooligans seeking out a confrontation, according the media reports. Three Lions fans behaved "impeccably" in their subsequent group games with Wales and Slovakia. In Saint-Etienne, a fan threw up on the train station’s platform to laughter of the other Barmy Army members, who then burst out in song – "Roy [Hodgson] is taking us to Paris."Gala atmosphere
In the streets of the sleepy city, English supporters played medieval football, briskly kicking a ball high up into the air before lunging into each other to get possession. Chants, full of expletives at the expense of Russia, were a hit in the city centre. A leaflet informed England fans that alcohol would be in short supply, but the world’s largest binge-drinking circus swept the city, raiding all local supermarkets and bars. England fans are burlesque, imploring a charming rowdiness.
Their Irish counterparts won the first round award for best fans by a substantial margin. “I am glad Ireland progressed,” said Bart Ponsaerts, an avid Belgian fan, who traveled to Brazil in 2014 to support the Red Devils. In Bordeaux, Belgium trashed Ireland 3-0. "The tournament has been a bit chaotic in terms of transport, fan zones and stadiums," added Ponsaerts.Rósa Júlía Steinþórsdóttir from Iceland disagreed. She had travelled with her husband from the suburbs of Reykjavik to attend Iceland’s first two matches. In the '90s, Steinhorstor had played for the Icelandic national women’s team and she came perilously close to qualifying for the women’s European Championship, only failing at the last hurdle, in the play-offs, twice, against England and Italy respectively.
United against RonaldoFurther down the carriage, inebriated Hungary fans were singing, "[Cristiano] Ronaldo is a homosexual", as news filtered through that the Portuguese had smacked his penalty against the woodwork in the match against Austria. Polish fans would later mimic the same song in Marseille.
"Well, I sang ‘Messi, Messi’ each time Ronaldo touched the ball," grinned Steinþórsdóttir. Fans’ dislike for Ronaldo was a universal theme during the group stages, and so was the enthusiastic response from the smaller nations to the tournament, a contrast with the indifference and aloofness of the favorites, who demonstrated little on the field.
That’s been the tournament’s Achilles Heel – a low standard of play during two atrocious, drawn-out weeks of pointless football to eliminate just eight teams, a European version of the USA '94 World Cup. The fans fete across France will continue, but it’s about time the tournament itself springs to live. Bring on the knockout phase.
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