Champions of Europe, we know who we are
On back-to-back nights, the holders of two European football trophies go home unhappy. England hasn't left the continent this quickly since Brexit
The game has yet to begin on Wednesday night in Manchester when a chant begins in the upper bowl of an Etihad Stadium that is clad largely in light blue.
We know who we are, we know who we are
Champions of Europe
We know who we are
This is factually accurate. Manchester City, having won every trophy in England several times over since being bought by a United Arab Emirates sheikh in 2008, finally won the Champions League, Europe’s top club competition, last season. It completed their collection, and meant City fans could add a new line to their chant.
But on this night, they face the grand old masters of Europe, Real Madrid, who have 14 (!) Champions League trophies in their cabinet. It’s like a battle of old money against the nouveau riche. Rolls Royce versus Tesla. Dolly Parton versus Taylor Swift.
My friend Mark and I are sitting in the Manchester City section, which is essentially the whole of the 60,000-plus Etihad Stadium other than a chunk in one corner that is allotted to Madrid supporters. Our tickets warn us not to wear colours or clothing of the opposing team or we would be denied entry. At football games in many parts of the world, fans of rival teams are not expected to peacefully coexist. They are cordoned off, separated by a moat of security personnel or, in some cases, barbed wire. In Manchester, the DMZ is just a bunch of people wearing high-vis vests.
It doesn’t take long for the reason for these measures to come into sharp focus. City dominates the opening stretches of the game, but Madrid strings together a quick counterattack, and Rodrygo slots home his own rebound. The upper bowl falls silent around us — except for one guy. He shouts a YES, fist in the air, then repeats it, looking around defiantly.
Bad idea, mate. Fury and scorn rains down upon him, countless Mancunians up on their feet, shouting that he should be removed, pointing at him and beckoning for security to eject this foul presence.
The look of defiance instantly becomes one of concern. His friend, who had wisely said boo when Madrid scored, looks stricken. A guy sitting next to them, wearing glasses and a City scarf and looking every bit a regular 40-something white-collar Englishman, says “You have to leave.” He repeats this again, and adds a shove.
They realize they are doomed, and leave their seats. As they make their way down the stairs, more shouting and pointing ensues. It’s like the “Shame, Shame” scene from Game of Thrones, except these two Madrid supporters have not been stripped of their clothing. But who knows what would have happened had they tried to stay in their seats.
The match was 12 minutes old. I bet that shouty guy’s friend was real pissed.
They ended up missing an incredible game. The early Madrid goal meant the Spanish giants were up 4-3 on aggregate after they drew the opening game of the two legged quarter-final tie last week. City poured on pressure, peppering the Madrid goal. It felt like Madrid were only hanging on by a combination of will and innate Champions League savvy. It also felt like an equalizer was coming for long stretches. The Manchester fans were confident.
We know who we are, we know who we are
Champions of Europe
We know who we are
Kevin De Bruyne finally tied it in the 76th minute. The place went nuts. Then it proceeded to feel like a City winner was coming for the rest of the game, and right on through an extra 30 minutes. But it didn’t come. Penalties came instead, and Madrid’s freaky resilience in the competition eventually won out. Two City attempts were saved, and the Spanish visitors stole out into the cold Manchester night like thieves. It’s a good thing those two guys left earlier, or they might have had their limbs torn off.
A night later, we are at the London Stadium to see West Ham against Bayer Leverkusen in the quarter-final of the Europa League.
The mood is different. The German visitors are having one of the great seasons in football history, undefeated in 43 games in all competitions and having just clinched the Bundesliga title on the weekend, knocking off the previously imperious Bayern Munich for the first time in over a decade. Bayer Leverkusen, definitely the best team named for an aspirin company, also won the first leg of this quarter-final 2-0, meaning West Ham has serious work to do.
This is also a little above their station. They hadn’t qualified for European tournaments for ages, and are in this one — the Europa League is a notch below the Champions League — because they won the Europa Conference League, a tournament created mostly so smaller nations could send club teams to this kind of stage, last season.
On the walk to the stadium from the train, a couple of West Hame fans were chatting behind us.
“What happens if it’s still 2-nil at halftime?”
“I’m leaving. Got to work tomorrow.”
Confidence could be higher, I think.
And it turns out it should have been. Michail Antonio heads home a delightful cross in the 13th minute to make it 2-1 on aggregate and the game is officially afoot. West Ham dominates the rest of the half, and Leverkusen looks a lot like a team that just won the German title for the first time in their history and has been on a proper bender since. London Stadium is rocking.
We know who we are, we know who we are
Champions of Europe
We know who we are
Now, should you sing this chant when you are the champions of the third-tier European tournament? It seems a little cheeky, but I’m not going to point this out to anyone around us.
Alas, the equalizer does not come. Leverkusen are better in the second half, perhaps because they sweated out all the beer and sausages, and West Ham have fewer chances. In the 89th minuter, the German champions score on a counter.
And, again, there are scenes. Dozens of Leverkusen fans were apparently closeted in our section, but had remained quiet and, frankly, had nothing to cheer for. But with the late goal they are standing and shouting and, well, the surrounding fans are not at all pleased. More shouting and pointing ensues, and swarms of high-vis security folk move up the stairs to try to quell the various confrontations.
The German fans leave without much fuss, the semi-final berth secured and their undefeated season somewhat remarkably still intact. I see a guy wearing a West Ham toque and scarf — fully incognito! — high-five a pal on the way out.
The West Ham fans stay past the final whistle to applaud the fellas as this European campaign ends. They currently sit eighth in the Premier League standings, which means they probably have to gain a place or two over the last month of the domestic season to get back into European competition next year. It will be a tough ask.
Champions of Europe
We know who we are