Archive for the ‘Asian Football’ Category

ATW90 – Thailand Part 2. The rise of Buriram United

Thursday, March 1st, 2018

I thought my journey from Myanmar to Buriram might be a problem. Although it was two flights with a single airline, I would still have to pick up my luggage while changing, check it into the connecting flight and go through immigration in Bangkok. Fortunately, my morning flight from Yangon was on-time and two hours was easily sufficient to arrange the change.

On the Bangkok to Buriram flight, I saw something which I must say it is unusual generally, but especially so in Asian football. There were a small number of passengers wearing football shirts and these were not the shirts of a club from thousands of miles away. These are the shirts of Buriram United, the club I intended to see that evening.

It is a sign of the remarkable story of Buriram United, who are already the most successful club in Thailand, and by some metrics, could be considered the best on the continent. To try and unravel this, I need to look back into the development of the Thai Football League, which is one of the best demonstrations in Asia of what can be achieved.

My first football games in Thailand were in 1990, part of a few trips for work that I made to the region at this time. I was based close to Rayong, and my first game was on nothing more than an open field with a tent. This was the final of a local provincial tournament. The scale of development is such that the field is now under a sports hall, while close by, a new stadium has been developed.

All football in Thailand at the time was tournament based. Inter-provincial tournaments played between different areas of the country, while club competitions were played by clubs within a smaller area. One only ever heard about the Bangkok area club, with the Kor Royal Cup being recognised as the Thai Championship. I saw the final of this in Bangkok in June 1990. The crowd was sparse, not into four figures. All the clubs in the tournament were associated with companies or government department around Bangkok. My final saw Port Authority of Thailand beat Thai Farmers Bank 2-1 a.e.t.

In 1996, a league was started, but this was still an all Bangkok institution. A second parallel league was started for provincial teams in 1999.

Outside the I-mobile or Thunder Castle stadium pre-match.

Changes really started in 2005, when the top two provincial teams, Chonburi and Suphanburi were added to the Thai League. This did not create a national league, as neither was that far removed from Bangkok, but at least they were outside the metropolitan area. Chonburi finished mid-table, while Supanburi fared poorly and would have been relegated in further reorganisation had not taken place.

Technically, the two leagues merged, but this did not mean a great deal. There were now four clubs from outside the Bangkok area, thanks to the promotion of Royal Thai Police and Royal Thai Navy, who both used stadiums in neighbouring provinces.

A year later, the club of the Provincial Electricity Authority, PEA decided to head away from the capital moving north to the ancient city of Ayutthaya. With increased crowds, they won the title, but their stay in Ayutthaya was to only be for two seasons. After a second, less successful season the club was bought out by politician Newin Chidchob.

Chidchob had been a minister in Thaksin Shinawatra’s government, but had avoided the fall out when Shinawatra fell from grace. He went on to be critical of his former leader when groups that wanted him returned to political life were protesting early in 2009.

Chidchob moved his new club to the city of Buriram, which was where his political power base was. Buriram is a fairly nondescript city in North Eastern Thailand. By bus, it takes around 5 hours to get to the capital, (when I tried, it was nearer to six, but the last hour was all within metropolitan Bangkok as the weather and traffic combined to delay all).

Bangkok Glass FC – proud to wear my name, (or that of a very poor lager beer)

There was an added confusion to football in Buriram, as also in 2009, Buriram FC were founded and took a place in the regional league, playing at the Buriram Rajabhat University Stadium. Not that Chidchob was going to see this as a rival, the owner of the other club being none other than his wife, Mrs Karuna Chidchob.

A photo from the public display at Thunder Castle – Mrs Chidcomb holding the trophy after Buriram FC were promoted. Probably at one of the last games before they merged with her husband’s team

The stadium that Newin’s club had to use when moving to the city was the provincial stadium, and is 7km from the centre of town, but with promotion, Buriram FC soon had to move there as well.

Since moving to Buriram, Newin Chidchob’s club have won 5 out of 7 Thai League titles, four Thai FA Cups, Five League Cups, four Kor Royal Cups (now the Thai Supercup) and two Mekong Club championships. The Mekong championship is competed for by four or five South East Asian Champions. It has ran for four seasons, with Binh Duong (Vietnam) winning the inaugural cup (no Thai entrant, all games in Vietnam), and Thai teams winning the rest. Buriram’s biggest rivals, Muang Thong United being the current holders. Buriram have also reached the knock out rounds of the AFC Champions League once, when they reached the quarter-finals.

Game over – so its time to greet the fans.

Meanwhile, Buriram FC were also going from success to success. Two promotions had placed them one level behind Buriram PEA in 2011. The 2011 season was remarkable for the city, as both teams won their divisions. This presented the potential for the city to have two teams in the top division, with a husband and wife partnership as the two club presidents.

I cannot see many club owners doing this, but in Buriram you can buy dolls of Newin and Karuna Chidcomb, wearing the colours of their two teams prior to the 2011 merger

Also, during 2011, they opened the new stadium, known as the Buriram Stadium, the Thunder Castle Stadium, or the (insert sponsors name*) Stadium. (*I-mobile in 2017, Chang in 2018). The Stadium was built in 256 days, which is proudly proclaimed as a record for building a stadium (certified by FIFA, no less, as FIFA love to accredit a record that cannot be proved or disproved).

Of course, it would not be acceptable for his and hers football teams to play in the same league, so for 2012, a new name, Buriram United appeared in the top division. In Thailand, the moving of rights for a club in a division is allowed. After all, that is how PEA moved to Buriram in the first place.

The Chidcomb’s managed to sell the club rights to the furthest point they could find from Buriram, while remaining in Thailand, and so Wuachon United were created, sharing a ground and at least partial ownership with Songkhla FC, a team one division lower. Newin Chidcomb said at the time that this was to help football in Southern Thailand, a region that had never been represented at the top level. One can be certain that if this is the case, then he also had something to gain in literally selling the club south. I just cannot specify if this was for political advantage, economic advantage or a mixture of the two.

The name Wauchon existed for one season only, as Songkhla FC were relegated and the club owners decided to merge the two as Songkhla United. Songkhla United managed a further two seasons in the top division, and then three at the second level. They lost 1-0 in the match I saw at Trat, which helped both in securing their relegation, and making sure Trat just escaped. For 2018, they have failed to gain a license for the third level, and hence drop an extra step.

Meanwhile Chidcomb’s development of the site around the new stadium has increased. There is a small retail area, a modern hotel, the club superstore and a motor racetrack. The oddest of the features is a small castle, which is a replica of the ancient Hindu stone castle at Phanom Rung. The castle features on the club badge, along with two lightning bolts, a remembrance of the club’s origin as PEA.

I went back the day after the match to talk to Bubet Suppipat about the club, and was surprised to see a steady stream of tourists coming into the ground to take a look around, and see the entrance to the dressing rooms and take a selfie in front of the stand. I talked to a few of these and many were up on a trip that took in just the one game, as they came from towns in other parts of Thailand.

Coming to get you? The passage leading to the away dressing rooms!

Not quite the tours on offer at Old Trafford or the Bernabeu, but one can see that the club is selling itself as a destination. The club name is highly prominent around the town, with posters and a banner selling the fixtures.

If the objective is to use the sporting facilities to put the city’s name on the map, then it appears to be working. If you look on travel sites, such as Wikivoyage, then Buriram is listed as a “fairly nondescript town”, best utilised by tourists as a base for visiting ancient sites (such as Phanom Rung) in the area around it. These are well spread out, so time and transport would be required. I can confirm that there is not a great deal to see in the town itself, although it is appears to be neat, clean and relatively prosperous. What no visitor to the town cannot miss is that this is the home of Chidcomb’s ventures – the football club and the racetrack. You cannot avoid seeing posters advertising these.

While in the town during the day, I spotted a European couple who had been on the bus from the airport with me. While they had no thoughts of football before arriving, they were now considering going to the game, (they may well have been put off by the 4 km to the stadium and lack of public transport).

Bubet Suppipat, who also goes by the name Golf met me at the stadium after the match. For a while, I thought the meeting would not take place. It was originally scheduled for 10.00, but actually happened after lunch. Fortunately for me, as I have mentioned, the site has a few cafes where I could find some lunch. The delay was caused by an impromptu meeting requested by Newin Chidcomb. Clearly a request that cannot be ignored. Golf had football administration experience before coming to Buriram, and had been chief operating officer of Lao Toyota, the leading club in neighbouring Laos. He confirmed to me that Laotian football is far behind most of the South East Asian countries, (but of course, it is still somewhere I would like to visit).

After discussing the history of the club with me, we went on to the current financial situation. He did not know the exact budget, but thought it to be around 200 million baht. This is equivalent to about £4.5 million, and was ten times the figure mentioned by Rayong in the next division down. What is remarkable though is not the size of the budget, but the fact that the club is claiming to be breaking even. The basis of this is the merchandising operation, which apparently raises 40% of the clubs income. The city of Buriram has a population of around 30,000 – but the football club has sold around 700,000 football shirts in one season, and they were at pains to points out that this is only part of the operation, the figure does not include other parts of the kit, T-shirts, and other souvenirs. A similar portion of the budget comes from sponsorship, with the brewers Chang being named on the shirts and taking over the naming rights at the stadium for 2018.

With the rest of the budget covered by matchday income and the central allocation, (from the FA of Thailand, covering income from the TV contract, and league sponsors Toyota), it appears that Mr. Chidcomb no longer has to put money into his club to keep them at the top of the league.

Golf also mentioned plans to float on the stock market. When I expressed a need for caution, based on the poor record of stock market floats for football clubs in Europe, he corrected himself. It is not the football club itself that may be capitalised on the stock market, but the merchandising arm.

The stadium is straight forward, a single tier of seats running up to an even height all around, albeit that the lowest seat level being much too close to ground level. There is no track, so you are reasonably close to the pitch. Roofs on both sides, open behind the goals, sight lines are good except when too low. Unusually, the major side of the ground, with executive boxes, etc is on the East of the stadium, not the West. They do not tend to start matches before sundown, so this is less important.

A near square 32-page programme was sold for 20 Baht. It is a glossy affair, well produced but would still be short on information even if I could read Thai.

As far as the match was concerned, I found it dispiriting. Buriram won with a goal in the 90th minute, a header from a Brazilian player Coelho getting his head to a free kick sent on by Suchao. The free kick was won by their other Brazilian, Diogo who spotted the place where he would clearly get fouled if he ran through. Throughout the game the home side relied too much on these two players, who were generally poor until the final ten minutes, when they were clearly trying to set each other up for the goal.

It was the rest of the cynical play that I found worse though. Bangkok Glass have a talented young Thai player called Apisit, who simply attracted fouls until he went off injured. The injury was caused after he had won a corner. The Buriram player who had knocked the ball out then simply pushed Apisit into the advertising hoardings as hard as he could. At this point Apisit had has knee bandaged, but carried on. It took at least three more hacking fouls before he went off.

On a number of occasions Glass tried to run the ball through the midfield in counter attacking moves. As there was a risk of getting clear, the player would generally be fouled or pulled back by the Buriram captain Jakkaphan – I counted at least four occasions where this would earn a yellow card in Europe before he finally got a booking late in injury time.

There were about 10,300 people watching. This is down on the average attendance for the season by around 3,000, but not entirely unexpected for a midweek game

One final thought of thanks to the good people at the football club, as I mentioned, it is difficult for a foreigner with no knowledge of the area to find their way back from the ground – at least without their own transport, but the club arranged to get me into town both after the match (when I shared with one of the journalists), and after my discussions the following day.

The replica temple in the grounds.

Once in town, I had a good wander around, making the most of the last hour before sundown. I found the university stadium by chance, and there was actually football taking place as I passed. Naturally I stopped to inquire what was going on. The match had four match officials, so it was the fourth who tried to update me. The game was clearly competitive and it was described as fifth level. My later investigations showed that it was not part of the end of season fifth level competition – but I know there is a qualifying competition for this, and so these could have been fifth level teams, playing in another competition

The Rajabhat University stadium, once used by Buriram FC

On Friday, I took the bus south, starting in the bright sunshine of the North East, but soon travelling under grey skies before hitting the outskirts of Bangkok where the weather practically brought the suburbs to a halt. It was to be the story of the weekend

The Thammaset University Stadium is set on campus, about 40 km north of Bangkok centre, it is a 25,000 all seat stadium, which looks a little like a small brother to the national Rajamangala stadium, there are only 12 rows of seats in front of the scoreboard at one end while the numbers increase as you move to the centre, with around 50 rows opposite the centre line. There is cover on both sides, but not behind the goals, although the cover does not lean out far enough to protect the front rows on either side.

When I left the hotel, the skies were grey, but it was dry after a short lunchtime storm. As we headed north, the driver pointed out the “heavy rain clouds” ahead. In Bangkok, heavy rain is defined as such that you cannot see out of the car windows, even with the wipers going full pelt.

By the time we came off the elevated tollway, about five miles from the ground, the sideroads are completely flooded. You can see mopeds struggling to pass through water around 6 inches feet, and people who have taken their shoes off gingerly trying to walk through, not being able to see the ground.

I am thinking about what the alternative would be if the game is off, and whether my taxi can be held to take me onwards, but when I arrive, the ground is only mildly waterlogged. You can still see the grass, and the match is on. As it happened, my “second choice game” was postponed

The unlikely named Super Power Samut Prakan are the visitors today, while Bangkok United are the team that plays at Thammaset. It is an uneven contest, as United are near the top of the league and Prakan are rock bottom, with just one point from 28 games.

United had lost to second placed Muang Thong United on Wednesday, which left them six points behind second place, and 12 behind the leaders Buriram. So despite the comment from coach Alexandre Polking at the post-match press conference that he wants to win every match, and that he is not prioritising the cup, seven changes from Wednesday’s game suggests that players are being rested. One could say that this paid off, as they easily progressed through the following week’s cup game, beating mid-table Port by 5-1. United ended up reaching the cup final, before losing to Changrai United.

The combination of the weakened home side and a playing surface where every bounce caused a splash, and where players did not dare to take a dive as they were not provided with breathing equipment gave Samut Prakan some hope in the first half. Even a goal midway through from Dragan Boskovic did not mean they gave up, and just before the break they managed to get the ball into the net, but it was ruled offside

Supporters from both clubs get to show their colours during the break

In the second half, the rain was slowing and playing conditions were improved. The half time period involved much sweeping water off the surface. This allowed Bangkok United to feel a little more assured and to take control. Mario Durovski hit the second on 63 minutes, and then Alexander Sieghart added the third. Sieghart is listed as a Thai, he has a German father and played for Bayern Munchen II and Unterhaching before returning to the land of his birth.

A final goal, two minutes from time was credited to Mika Chunuonsee, (born in Bridgend, and formerly of Bryntirion, Neath and Afan Lido, Welsh mother, Thai father). However, his shot actually hit the bar and came out, hitting the keeper on the back before rolling in, so in my listing it has to be an own goal.

Programme was slightly smaller than A5 in presentation, but then unfolds into a single sheet of paper, nine times the size. One side has text, the other has a player poster.

The crowd was 819. This was to be the lowest turnout at the club for the season, thanks to a combination of weather and the failure last mid-week. After the game, I was fortunate to discover that the club runs a free fan bus from central Bangkok, and I was whisked back into town on this. Talking to a German supporter of the club, while on the bus, I was invited to book a place for Wednesday’s cup game, but had to decline as I was going to be back in England by then.

Having braved the rains, and facing certain relegation, the Samut Prakan fans can still wave their flags. They finished the season just 17 points behind the second bottom team, 30 off the mark required to avoid relegation

The players show their appreciation of the loyal band at the end

While seeing a low crowd at one game is not a problem in itself, the league will be concerned that the attendance for the whole season were 15% down, and that the 2016 season in turn was well below the leagues 2015 figure.

Apparently, the free fan bus also runs to away games, even if they are a nine-hour drive from Bangkok.

I only decided on my Sunday action on the day itself. Even the evening before, when I was doing some of the research, I had not decided whether or not to go to some of Thai Amateur games, and which ones to go to. I knew the Thai League had a 1-1-2-6 pyramid, with the top four divisions being professional, and the next two being semi-professional.

Sunday Morning, too early!!. The Leo Stadium staging fifth level games in the Thai Amateur League

The Thai League website also shows a fifth level, the Thai Amateur League. From this I discovered that there were matches due in some mini-leagues, that had started the previous week. Eventually, I managed to discover that the fixtures were being put out on a facebook page, but in an image format. This meant I could not use any automated translation engine on them.

It was clear that the matches were being played in a single venue each Sunday, with three matches on a day, using 10.00, 13.00 and 16.00 kick off times. The venues were not always the same from week to week, and I had to wait for the fixtures to appear on facebook.

I showed them to some journalists at the Bangkok United game. It was clear none had covered this level of football, but I had already worked out that there 12 leagues in operation, and that two of the areas were Bangkok and Bangkok Perimeter. From here I gathered that the stadiums being used this week for the Perimeter League was the Leo Stadium, home of top division Bangkok Glass, while for the Bangkok League, it was the Thammasat Mini-Stadium. While I could confirm that this was on the university complex with Bangkok United, no one knew exactly where.


The good thing was that these two were not far apart, it would be easy to travel from one to the other within the one-hour interval.

I also tried to find out information about one of the other leagues, with the thought it might combine with Chonburi’s league game, but here the information ran out. Even those who could read the language could not point to the location on a map.

As I awoke quite early, I decided to go for it, based on what I knew. So, my first stop was to be the Leo Stadium. I had always been quite eager to get to the stadium bearing my name, and were disappointed that I was in Thailand during a weekend they were away from home.

So at 9 a.m., I was out of the hotel, briefly heading into the metro station to use the ATM, and then asking a taxi for the Leo Stadium

This was quite straight forward, and I arrived at the ground about 15 minutes before kick-off, where no admission charges were being requested, and I managed to obtain the team lists in Thai quite easily.

The teams were Romklao United, a student team based at the Kasem Bundit University, and an Air Force team – google translate puts the name as Department of Air Marshal. The Leo Stadium is an unusual three-sided affair, one of the long sides is not used, with a three tier stand behind one goal, a two tier along the side and a single tier behind the other goal.

The individual players of the two sides were very good on the ball, but very poor off the ball. There is a lack of tactics or vision and the defences reigned. I though the Air Force team had done enough that they may nick it near the end, but then a silly foul in the middle of the field left them down to ten men, (it was a straight red as well), and changed the game dynamics. The students had the better of the last 20 minutes, but could not prevent the game from serving me up with my first draw (and hence first goal less draw) of the season.

On to Thammasat, no problems in getting there and none of the flooded roads of the day before. The advice I had been given was to ask directions from the University gatehouse. Considering that on the day before, my taxi driver had difficulty finding the big stadium, this seemed sensible. Naturally the driver would not do this, drove a while onto site, then asked someone, who said right at the end of the road and then left. In typical taxi driver style, he considered the second turning to be not worth his while, and drove off 400 metres in the wrong direction, turned around and then did it right. We still only got to about 200 yards away when he again decided he was lost, and could not see anyone to ask. I gave up at this point, paid him up and walked over to the building, where I was immediately and accurately directed to the mini stadium

It is a grass pitch with bleachers behind it, the only shade and cover provided by trees overhanging, and by three gazebos – one for each team, and one for the officials. I was invited to share with the officials

The individual players skills in this game were less than that in the earlier one, the lack of vision and movement off the ball was the same. The teams now were Rajdamnern and Tokio Bluearmy. The spelling Tokio is correct, it is a Thai footwear company. There is nothing Japanese about then, although the coach does look like a retired Sumo wrestler, (pot, kettle?). I thought that I was getting my second scoreless draw of the day, especially as while Tokio seemed to be on top. Twice Sarawoot got clear with only the keeper to beat, and beat the keeper both times. The first was wide, the second hit the bar.

Just to show, I am not making this up!

But then with four minutes to go to the added time board, Srichai found himself clear for Rajdamnern, and managed to beat the keeper without missing the target. Three minutes later, the same played passed a defender with a clever flick and made it two.

The attendances for the two games were just 30 and 50 respectively, although this included a drummer at the second game.

I made my way back to the central road, but the first taxi I stopped would not consider taking me to Minburi, despite this being a good fare to claim, it was a fair distance from where I was standing. Some taxi drivers on these trips won’t take you as they don’t want the hassle, but quite often it is because they just do not know where you want to go. Unfortunately, it turned out there were not many free taxis on the road within the university, but as I was waiting, a minibus stopped. It was the Rajdamnern team, on the way back to their base (wherever that is). They took me to a more major road where I could more easily find a taxi. It appears that there are no dressing rooms at the mini-stadium. I saw one of the match officials get on a bike and cycle away still in kit.

It took a couple of goes to find a taxi to take me to Minburi. This is the home of Thai Honda FC, and was close on to a one-hour drive from my position in North Bangkok. He phoned home to ask someone to look up directions to the 72 Anniversary Stadium. It did not really help and he still got lost more than once. I was trying to update him with the map on my PC, which I could not update offline, but could pan around a little, once we had got close enough to spot the stadium from the main road – still over two miles away I think. If you tell a taxi driver not to take a specific road, because my map says it doesn’t go through, he will of course try it, stop when he sees someone, and then head back when they confirm my feeling that we need to take the next turning.

The 72 Anniversary Stadium is quite interesting. The choice of slogan, “Club of tomorrow” is displayed with much aplomb as you enter the ground. Sadly, this is not likely to be true, as they were relegated at the end of the season – and administratively they are still about two days before yesterday. On entry, I was given my accreditation, and a slip of paper allowing me to access internet from the Press Room. So, I asked where the press room was? It was just behind the girl who gave me the card, but I was sent in completely the wrong direction, after which I was told they did not have a press room at all. Still, one gets there in the end. There is no viewing from either end of the ground and one side is just a raised concrete stand with concrete seating. The other side is similar, except that seating has been installed in the central section which Is under cover. There is a track around the pitch, but at least the elevations are good.

From the press room, I have a view onto the pitch and the stands, the weather was good when I arrived, allowing me to take a couple of ground pictures of the empty stadium, as I watch from comfort,

30 minutes before kick-off time, it starts raining. Heavily
20 minutes before kick-off time, the pitch is completely waterlogged
At kick off time, it is put back by one hour
45 minutes into the hour, the rain stops
One hour after kick off time, the referee goes for a paddle, and says we will kick off in 30 minutes
Five minutes later, the game is called off.

At some time during the wait, we were treated to an impromptu display of support from a small group of home fans with the name of the club emblazoned across their chests. Fortunately, it will wash off – and if they went to stand with the majority of the fans, it will have done before the game was called off.

In common with the practice I had seen at other games, even though the match was off, the players still made their way to the support on the uncovered side to make their ritual “thanks for coming”.

The taxi driver who took me to the stadium, said he would come back for me. I was uncertain as to whether this would happen, but not only did he come back, but he made it there around 30 minutes before the agreed time, meaning I did not have to wait long. Anyone else trying to get a taxi here needs to consider asking them to pick up after the game. You are at least a mile from the main road, with little chance of seeing a taxi before you reach it. I did not see many until we reached the centre of Minburi – a distance which would have required more than an hour of extra walking.

We also picked up two Thai supporters who were looked for a Taxi. Apparently, they had tried to stop my cab when he was on the way in, and he asked my permission to pick them up. They knew little English (despite having visited England – apparently London is cold in winter), and travelled on in the cab after I reached the hotel – so they were going a long way, so they spent at least an hour in the taxi. What they would have done, or what I might have done, without the taxi remains a matter of speculation.

Anyway, I was back in town allowing a drink before bed. In the morning, the hotel staff helped me in the unusual task of transliterating the Thai script on the fifth level team lists for my records. I had managed to get a few sorted and some sort of translation is possible using google, particularly when the name does not translate into English words. As I have found a couple of times in the past, in Thailand and Hong Kong, hotel staff are quite happy to help with unusual requests like this so long as you can make yourself understood and you pick a quiet time of day.

After that though, there was nothing to do but to head back to the airport and board my flight back to London. My flight out was my first on the Airbus A380, but the return was my first on an A350. To be honest, there is very little to say about either from economy class. But my last job was working automating the production procedures for A350 wing panels, so one felt a little more connected here.

ATW90: Myanmar

Wednesday, February 21st, 2018

Back into sequence? This is part of the series of articles being written for the book, Around the World in 90 minutes

The Myanmar visit was in September 2017, and came directly after the my visit to Bhutan.

Please send any comments or corrections to

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I felt I really should not have gone to Myanmar. I was quite aware that as a country, it has always been frayed around the edges. Unfortunately, much of this was the fault of the British when negotiating independence. The British ruled the country as a single state, or even as a province of India, and ignored the many different small groups of people within the state. (This was not just a problem with British colonialism, look at the mess the Dutch left Indonesia in, partly because they created a single state). The Burmese majority and some of the other groups did sign an agreement, but others were left out, despite an original demand by Britain that this would not happen. The result is that ever since independence (70 years now), the country has been plagued by internal strife as the other groups, Karin, Shan, Rohingya demand their own rights and even independence. The North East of the country is reported as particularly lawless, but I was not going anywhere near there.

Trouble really started to flare in the week I was heading out of the UK. An insurgent group (or freedom fighters or terrorists, depending on your viewpoint), attacked police stations in Rakhine state. The main demand of the Rohingya people appears to be recognition. Although they have lived in the northern part of what is now the Rakhine state of Myanmar for generations, they do not hold Myanmar citizenship. The Myanmar government considers the whole group to be illegal Bengali immigrants. The Bangladesh government does not give them citizenship, as they live in Myanmar. When the British were in charge, they recognised the Rohingya as a tribe, but probably gave little thought to how they were spread across what would become the Burma/East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) border.

The border is porous at best, so no doubt there has been unregulated movement across it since the countries became independent, but the continuing repression in Myanmar means that it is not a great destination for illegal immigrants to head for. By the time I arrived in Myanmar, it appears that at least 250,000 people had been pushed across the border into refugee camps in Bangladesh, which simple cannot deal with the influx. The United Nations security council actually managed to condemn this, with both Russia and China accepting the motion.

Myanmar cannot control information, everyone here has mobile phones and internet connections, and outside news sources are available. The internal news however says that all outside sources are lies. I went to Mandalay and Bagan, two centres which rely on tourism to some extent, (Bagan only exists as a tourist destination). The various taxi drivers and guides I speak too, while managing to speak enough English to take me around, to negotiate fares, or to try and sell me trinkets I do not want or need, somehow do not understand a word when I ask about the situation, or how they are going to cope with the reduction in tourists that this is going to create.

From Bhutan, I had taken a flight back to Bangkok – like the outward one, it stopped in India – but a different airport to the one used in the other direction. My flight to Myanmar was the following morning, but from Bangkok’s older Don Muang Airport. I had booked a small hotel close to the airport, but my taxi driver had no idea where it was. Even after stopping close to the destination and getting directions from other drivers, he still had no idea. In the end, I had to stop at the wrong hotel, and take another taxi to complete the journey.

I landed in Mandalay. While Mandalay has always sounded like an interesting city, it does lack something. It is said that you are never far from a rat in any major city, but in most places they stay relatively well hidden. In Mandalay, you will see them if you take any short walk of an evening. It makes the plan of using street vendors for food seem somewhat unappealing.

I was picked up at Mandalay airport by the hotel’s transport. This was a good idea as the airport is a long way from the city centre, and no one likes to haggle with the local drivers before they have a true idea of costs. Indeed, I did not even hold currency until after I reached the hotel.

While we were heading to the city, I discovered we would pass close to the city’s impressive and modern football stadium. I could not get access inside, so had to content myself with a few outside pictures

I now had two and a half days of sightseeing planned. First, I would walk look around Mandalay, then take a trip between Mandalay and Bagan, stopping at the most impressive temple on the route, and then I would spend a whole day travelling around Bagan, before taking a morning flight down to Yangon. It would be down in the commercial centre of the country where the football would take place.

I managed, of course to see many sights on my first three days, more than can be possibly be shown here, but here are small number of highlights. The first two are in Mandalay, the second pair at Mount Popa, which is en route between Mandalay and Bagan, (or if you are staying in Bagan, the place most taxi touts want to overcharge to take you to), and the rest are in Bagan itself.






Being as this is a Football Blog, I could not resist this football pitch in Bagan, with a couple of small stupas behind. No sign to say when the next game would be.






The Myanmar government makes a charge to visit the antiquities in Bagan, and please do not think for a moment that this goes mainly into maintenance, even if there are some signs that maintenance may be ongoing. The figure is 25,000 Kyat – which is in fact around £14. While this fee is well worth it, no one bothers to check if you have a ticket or not at most places. It was only at the last temple I visited, Shwesandaw that I was forced to hand over my money.

Still, it had to be paid as this is one tall temple, and you can climb up the sides (in relative safety). The views over the 360o panorama are magnificent, and naturally this is a favourite (and recommended) sunset hangout.

Of course, the next morning is Saturday, and I need to get to football. I am staying at a hotel near the airport, so it is a straightforward matter of getting their airport shuttle to the terminal – well they told me it was a bus!

In common with about 99% of the road traffic in Myanmar, this “bus” is right hand drive, and hence intended for a market where one drives on the left. In Myanmar, they drive on the right. I asked more than once about this and the answer I got was consistent. It is apparently because the cars are all made in Japan. The Japanese drive on the left (that much is true), and hence do not make cars for with the steering wheel on the other side, (such as China, USA and most of Europe).

This is repeated enough that I think the locals believe it. The true reason is that most vehicles in Myanmar were not intended for the local market, but were sent to neighbouring countries, (India mainly, but also Bangladesh and Thailand) where they do use the left hand side of the road.

And then onto the plane, which starts off in the wrong direction and makes two other stops before getting to Yangon


Some good aerial views, even if I did not spot the Shan United home ground

There were no delays in my flight, fortunately, which meant I had no difficulty in getting down to Yangon and into my hotel in good time.

After a short while in the hotel, I am on my way again, to see a Rakhine United “home” game. This is where football in Myanmar starts to get confusing. Rakhine is the state where the problems with the Rohingya was happening. When I started my trip, I assumed the game would be played within the state – I had even gone as far as looking to see if I could get there and the down to Yangon for a game on the Sunday. I do not think I had noticed that the Magwe do not have a home stadium, and therefore were due to play in Yangon as well that day, (Wikipedia lists a stadium for every club, but then notes that some are not in use). I had planned my timing with the thought I could travel to Hpa-an (about six hours on the bus) for Monday’s match and back on the Tuesday. This was in fact the main reason I had booked to leave the country on Wednesday, rather than the day before.

While the Myanmar National League web site confirmed the fixtures and kick off times well in advance, so as I was not just dealing with sites such as soccerway, it was only in the week before the match that they release the confirmed fixtures, with venues!

It turns out that Zwekapin’s matches were not in Hpa-an, but also in Yangon. Two other teams, Chin United and GFA, both of which hail from Chin also play their home matches in Yangon. Meanwhile, the number of matches for the weekend was reduced from six to five as the team from Nay Pyi Taw was thrown out of the league for not paying players’ wages.

All in all, therefore, six of the 12 clubs in the league play their home matches in Yangon, even though there is only one Yangon team in the league. It goes a step further than this, as all of the 12 (reduced to 11 by Nay Pyi Taw’s problems) actually train at the same place – the two artificial pitches next to the offices of the Myanmar Football Association offices, and across the road from the National stadium.

Even Yadanarbon, the team from Mandalay use the facilities in Yangon, which is rather sad considering that when I saw the outside of the stadium, the driver pointed out the academy pitches outside, and these present superior facilities to those in Yangon.

Another thing I discovered after I started planning was the existence of the ASEAN federation’s under-19 tournament, which would reach it’s final on the Sunday of my visit to Yangon. When this first came to my notice, I wondered if I could get from Yangon United’s ground after their Sunday match to the national stadium for the final. Google maps said yes, but I think the traffic would have made it close to impossible.

However, once I discovered that Rakhine were to use the Yangon United ground, it seemed that life would be simpler, as I could go there on Saturday, the National stadium for two U-19 games on Sunday and the Aung San stadium on the Monday.

It started hammering down with rain when the taxi was half way to the stadium, and on arrival the driver took my straight through the gates and then signalled to someone close by to come and hold an umbrella as I exited the door and walked to the stand. I’m not used to this. Normally, it rains, I get wet.

As a result, I do not even know if avoided paying to get in or not! I paid to get into the game on Monday, so I am guessing I missed paying (maybe almost 60p) here.

Anyway, despite being a modern artificial surface, it appeared the game would be in doubt. There was standing water right across the pitch, and despite people trying to sweep it clear, nothing could change until the rain stopped. But those of you that know South East Asia know that it rains hard, but rarely for long.


So, they announced a 30-minute delay to kick off. By that time the rain had stopped and the sweepers had returned the playing surface to something close to normal. There was no obvious water, but the surface was slippery, and this showed as the game went on. When a new rainstorm hit on the hour mark, the puddles soon appeared again, but the referee played through and all was back to normal by the end.

The Yangon United Sports Centre acts is the home ground for Yangon United, and also stages games for other teams as and when necessary. It has a track, but not full size. It has one long stand which goes all the way along the pitch, and another smaller one on the other side of the pitch. The only floodlights are attached to the top of the stands, so I do not think they are for match play (explaining the 3.30 kick off time), but as we did not start until 4.00, they were on at the end.

Shan United, are top of the league, and it was soon clear why. Playing in a 4-1-4-1 formation, they made good use of the wings, and utilised the power of their Nigerian forward Christopher Chizoba. It was two goals by Chizoba that gave them a half time lead. The first a powerful shot, after another player had sent a shot from distance onto the crossbar, and the second a tap in after good work from Han Kyungin. Han himself pounced on the loose ball following a corner on 65 minutes to complete the scoring.

Rakhine’s best period of play came at the start of the second half, but they too frequently failed to find the man in the area with undirected crosses, or ended up with powder-puff shots. They kept trying to play, as fresh rain created puddles on the pitch in the second half, the best chance coming after a save by Thiha Sithu leaving Sunday Mathew with an open goal which he fluffed. The Nigerian players’ union matched this a minute later when Chizoba headed over.

The smallish crowd included people supporting both sides, including a fair group wearing Rakhine colours. It appears these are all Yangon residents who may have once lived in the state.

Chizoba, I noticed ended the season as joint leading goalscorer, I spoke to him briefly after the game, when he mentioned a desire to move higher, maybe to the Indian Super League, as he had already played in India. However, he has been stayed at Shan for the 2018 season

After the game, I had a quick drink (coffee!) in the café just outside the ground. All eyes are on the TV, showing the lunchtime game in England, just as night falls here. Leicester City are 2-0 down to Crystal Palace at half time. (final 3-0)

As a prelude to heading to the ASEAN Football Federation Under-19 finals on the Sunday, I first had to visit the Myanmar Association’s offices in the morning. The offices are just across the road from the main stadium and stand next to two artificial pitches.

Although it was not apparent, looking on, these pitches were sodden with water, and if you walked across them you get the splish-splosh that you might normally associate with walking on a carpet which has been flooded and not dried out.








The match when I wandered past was South Korea v Japan, or to be more accurate, a match between ex-pats working in Yangon from the two East Asian nations.

The fibres of the surface were all lying flat, which probably damages the drainage. One got the impression that there is a lack locally when it comes to translating the words, “regular maintenance”.

The sign on the building at the back reads “National Football Academy”, the corner flags are set in concrete within a can marked “Gloss Enamel” I’m sure the FA uses the same techniques at St. George’s Park.

There is a lot of rivalry amongst the nations of South East Asia, and the ASEAN Football Federation organises at many levels. The tournament for U-19 players is held annually. Australia have been admitted to this region, even though they do not fit naturally into any Asian region, and may be better placed in the East, against South Korea, Japan and China. Although the Australians are the holders at this level, they have declined to enter this time around. New Zealand were originally invited to fill the gap, but then pulled out when the fixture schedule was given, (this was before the Rohingya business flared up). Hence, we had two groups one of six teams, the other of five.

Group A, the six team group was dominated by Thailand and Malaysia, who both won four games before drawing with each other. The biggest surprise was when Timor-Leste (East Timor to you) beat Singapore in their final game to finish third. Malaysia were group winners on goal difference

Group B was tighter, the Phillipines lost all four games, and Brunei only beat the Phillipines. Vietnam won their first three, including a 3-0 win over Indonesia, while Indonesia and Myanmar both had two wins before the final games. Indonesia had beaten Myanmar 2-1 thanks to a late injury time goal. Hence Vietnam had a +15 goal difference, plus they knew a draw made them group winners. However, Indonesia needed to make themselves safe in case Myanmar did win, which meant beating Brunei by 8-0. As it happened, the final score was Indonesia 8, Brunei 0.

For the final game, this meant that Vietnam would win the group if they did not lose the game, but with a defeat, they would drop to third place, as the goal differences and goals scored would be identical with Myanmar (assuming a single goal defeat) and hence head to head for their match against Myanmar would be decisive. Vietnam were a goal to the good in the first minute, but Myanmar pulled it back and won with a goal four minutes from time.

Both semi-finals finished scoreless. No extra time with only two days before the finals, and it was the group A teams, Malaysia and Thailand that went through. I was in a restaurant in Bagan for the semi-final, and it ground to a halt as the penalties came on. Even a group of French people stopped and cheered for the home team. Myanmar had an early penalty saved, but drew level when Malaysia’s fifth hit the post. But then another save stopped Myanmar on the first sudden death penalty, and Malaysia progressed by 5-4.

Although less central than the Aung San stadium, Thuwunna is the chosen national stadium for most international games. It was built in the mid-80s, Four curved stands, each two tiered surround an 8 lane running track. The two sides are roofed, while the ends are open. It is built mainly in concrete with large entrances to the seats between the tiers. The base row of seats are not more than 3 meters above pitch level, and while no one chooses to sit this low, quite a few of the home support do stand on the path that runs in front of these seats, forcing the sitting spectators further up.

For some reason, quite high mesh fences are erected on both sides of the ground, but not behind the goals. The mesh itself is too fine to interfere with the views, but the scaffolding poles that support it are a very annoying feature.

The pitch is grass, and the surface is clearly soft, with patches where the grass has worn thin, but despite the heavy rain and the high load on the surfaces, the surface actually appears better than the artificial surfaces at Yangon United and the training centre across the road.

Myanmar v Indonesia. Indonesia are on top from the start, forcing one good save and threatening the home defence well before a ball from the right is slipped through to an unmarked Mursalim who scores the first goal. As can happen, this results in a more positive play from Myanmar, and they should have levelled when Tun got into the area and found LW Aung in space, practically on the penalty spot, but he directed his shot straight at Savik in the Indonesian goal.

The pressure does not last, and on 27 minutes Sulaeman is released by a counter attack, picking up the ball in the centre circle and passing it into the net when the keeper advances for 2-0

Again, Myanmar push forward but without effect, the Indonesian keeper parries a couple of cross balls, but no one can finish them, while PS Naing fails to make contact with a cross from Tun.

This is the story of the game in a nutshell, Myanmar rushing to try and create chances which by and large come to nothing, their opponents being just that bit more clinical as they approach the goal. Indonesia are three goals to the good at the break, and extend this to six with a few minutes to go. Myanmar finally get a reward for their efforts in injury time, but there is still time for Indonesia to score again, and the final result is 7-1.

Close to the end, the announcer informs us that 16,000 are watching. I don’t know why he says this. There cannot be more than 1000 in the ground. The figure does not appear in the official records of the game, and I don’t think even the local press would report it.

By the time of the final, it is raining again and the pitch surrounds are looking very wet, but there is no standing water. Thailand get the first chance, a free kick from Noomchansakool is met on the far post by Kamingthong, but he puts the ball just over, then Rashid breaks forward for Malaysia, and hits the post when he should have scored.

The crowd has thinned out greatly, less than half of the figure from the first game, but there are two groups of noisy Thai supporters, each about 30 people and on opposite sides of the ground. For once, the rain is merely gentle, but less than a dozen people remain in the open seats, one of which has both an umbrella and a TV camera.

Thailand can just about muster enough fans to raise the giant flag before kick off.

The game is cagier than the first match, both sides will pass the ball right across the back line before choosing their position to push a forward ball. After the chances in the opening minutes, these are not finding the attacking players in space, as the defenders clearly have the upper hand. Malaysia have the most possession, but that is because they play more tippy-tappy at the back. Thailand are quicker to push the ball forward, and quicker to lose possession.

However, almost imperceptibly, Malaysia push their back line up and this moves the game into the other half of the field given Thailand some problems. Thailand have a player injured, but make two substitutions, so at least one is tactical. It is not changing the 4-1-4-1 formation used by both teams though. The new forward, Lertlum manages to get a shot close to the keeper which is blocked for a corner. Goalless at half time, I cannot see there being many added after the break, and a penalty shoot-out may well be the end result

The first goal comes from nowhere, a cross to one of the Thai substitutes, Panya, who is given a little space in the area, and a looping header which you could tell from the first moment was beating the Malay keeper. Within minutes it is two, a free kick from the right and Kamen meets it with a powerful header. A typical centre half coming up for the set piece.

Thailand continue to look the more dangerous, getting another three free kicks that all cause problems to Malaysia in the next fifteen minutes, but following the third of these, something happens off the ball, and Thai full back Kumkean is dismissed. Pulling a winger back, Thailand look to have moved to a 4-1-4-0 formation. Malaysia make the obvious change, bringing on Azeman, a forward in place of a midfielder, Thailand bring on a defender, which at least allows the winger back to his position, especially as Malaysia had created a chance in that space between the two substitutions. With this they revert to 4-1-3-1 and almost get a third when a header from Lertlum bounces off the crossbar

Thailand are happy to try time wasting tactics, such as having a player carried off on a stretcher, and then standing up fit enough to return. Malaysia have switched to 4-3-3 which is creating a few chances, with Razan hitting the ball over the bar in the 82nd minute and then beating the ground in frustration as he knows he should have got closer.

As we move on, it becomes clearer that Malaysia do not have the right moves to turn it around, as they keep pumping long balls into the area which are easily cleared. The call for four minutes of injury time is generous to Thailand, who immediately manage another injured player, and another minute lost.

Malaysia finally get their chance, two minutes into injury time when Khirudin is tripped in the box, but even this is to no avail as Manpati saves Azeman’s penalty. It was their last chance, the referee manages only to add 30 seconds to the four minutes, when two have been wasted (one for the injury, and one for the time between penalty award and it being taken). Still, for all their late gamesmanship, Thailand have bossed the second half and deserve their cup.

Viewed through the mesh – Malaysia’s late penalty is saved

As I had seen in Thailand, the first action of the Thai team after the whistle is to go over and cheer their fan group. About five minutes later the Malay team acknowledge (very briefly) a small group of their own fans, who were on my side of the ground, but had been quiet during the game.

The rain, which had kept off during the second half of play suddenly becomes torrential again as we wait for the presentations.

After this, I make my way back to the hotel, pleased with the days entertainment.

I take a little time to look around my locality, which is the old centre of Yangon on the Monday morning. The city is typical of this area of Asia, with its busy streets and crowded paving. There are a few sights to see, but the real joy here is not any specific item, but the kaleidoscope of noise and colour that makes up life in an Asian city.

A Buddhist temple within a roundabout, and surrounded by shops

And to prove harmony is not impossible, the mosque across the road!

One unusual feature here, which sets the city apart from other cities in Myanmar, and Asia generally is the lack of motor scooters. In most cities, they are a popular form of travel, and it is a common site to see whole families riding on one scooter, but here they are banned.

The Aung San Satdium in Yangon is not far beyond where I was walking in the morning and I actually considered walking from the hotel, but the heavens opened at about 1.45. I started the walk 30 minutes later when there was a brief respite in the rain, and hailed a taxi five minutes later when the respite ended.

I ducked out of the taxi immediately outside the ticket stall, so I quickly paid my 1000 kyets (about 60p to you). It was still pissing down with rain as I walked into the ground, did not stop until well into the second half.

This is the old national stadium, it is not really bigger than the new one, even though the capacity quoted is. I asked one of the journalists covering the game (there were two to choose from) whether it might be better to kick off the Monday games later than 3.30.

He replied that the floodlights do not actually work, so it is not possible.

Open concrete stands on three sides, a newer covered stand where I came in to the West.

The “visiting team” is Gospel for Asia comes from Chin State, which seems plausible as the state has a majority Christian population according to wiki. GFA are bottom of the division, with Chin United one place higher. The state of Chin is one of the most impoverished in the country. Like its neighbour, Rakhine, it is in a continuous state of conflict, with the army trying to assert their authority by methods that to put it mildly, international groups such as Human Rights Watch find distasteful.

Zwekapin took the lead on 22 minutes. A free kick was parried by the visiting keeper. KS Lin got the loose ball on the right side of the field and crossed to the far post for YK Hywe to score.

Slightly to my surprise, GFA equalised soon afterwards, a ball was played into SM Aung on the edge of the six-yard box, where either the keeper or the centre half should have taken it off him. Instead he was allowed to bring the ball down, turn and softly tap it in. Luis Carlos Martins restored the home sides lead, a diving header to a cross from SM Tun.

I thought that Zwekapin would be able to step up a gear after the break, but actually GFA had the better of the play. Still the home side should have made certain when Martins missed open chances in both the 80th and 81st minutes, (the first was easier). His manager decided he had seen enough, and replaced him with a defender, seeing out the game in a 5-2-3-0 formation.

No official crowd for this one, but my estimate was around 150. The impression I get is that bigger crowds can be seen outside Yangon, depending on the amount of success a team is having and the importance of the game – but this is not going to balance the costs the team incurs in travelling to the game. The national football association has only a little cash to distribute to the teams, so basically the 12 teams in the National League are all dependent on the amount of money their owners and sponsors can put in. Still, the division is a professional league, and even the second division has enough money that many teams have recruited foreign players, (which must therefore be full professional).

I had a brief chat with an agent who was meeting some of the players outside the ground, most of the foreigners in Myanmar football are from Africa, and they benefit from the centralised nature of the league, as they appear to group together between matches.

The chances of at least one of the Chin sides staying in the division has been enhanced with Nay Pyi Taw having been banned from the league with five games to play. All matches will be awarded 3-0 to their opponents. They still sit one point ahead of Chin, two ahead of GFA, but will not be allowed to stay up even if they were to stay in their current (non-relegation) position.

In the 2017 season, United of Thanlyin were removed from the second division after 10 games, (half way through the original season). Their results were expunged.
Also missing this season are Manaw Myay (last season’s second division champions), Zeyar Shwe Myay (mid-table top division last season). By the end of the season, GFA had done enough to be clear of the relegation zone, but Chin United finished bottom. Chin United did not continue running following their relegation, while the other relegated club, Nay Pyi Taw have also folded. For the second season in succession, the champions of the second division have dropped out of the league, rather than taking promotion.

A view of the Shwedagon Pagoda. Not certain what the golden ball is for,

The demise of Chin United in particular is disappointing, as they were an interesting case. Their owner James Lian Sai started the side after running football competitions between players in orphanages in Yangon. He himself is running several orphanages. It appears that not all of the children are actually orphans, as with the poverty and conflicts in states such as Chin, many parents will send their children to the relative safety of the south. Still, the Chin are an ethnic minority within Myanmar, and as well as problems in their home area, they face discrimination and abuse in the larger city.

Despite that, Chin United have managed to develop players, and at least one has made it into the national team

The second division becomes more confusing with three of the teams changing names! It runs in 2018 as a seven-team league. In both 2017 and 2018, the second division is a Yangon only league, using the two main stadiums in the city, and the Padonmar Stadium, just north of the Shwedagon Pagoda (which is one of Yangon’s major attractions).

The top division continues much as before, with five of the clubs not being able to use grounds outside Yangon, so six of the 12 will play there again.

After the match I managed to find my way to Yangon’s only microbrewery. Finding it is typical of a taxi drive in the city. First you show him the address in writing and on a map on your phone. He then quotes you a price, (in this case, one that I thought was very low). He then heads off in completely the wrong direction to a place which he thinks you are going to. You then point out the real address, and the phone number attached, (which you had also suggested in the first place). Eventually he makes his way in the right direction, hitting the traffic at every corner. The brewery is slightly hidden in an industrial area, and the driver has to ask three times close by to find it. This is not helped of course by the fact he does not follow his directions as given.

Let is be known that I like a good beer!


In this case, I paid more than the original quote, in line with the cost I thought I should pay. Fortunately, the return journey was easier, the pub called the taxi for me, and his price was reasonable. He even knew where my hotel was.

The week before my visit, Kyrgyzstan called off their home Asian Cup match with Myanmar due to the threat of protests by their Muslim population against the visitor’s treatment of the Rohingya. The situation is worse, not better with this match now re-arranged for March. Meanwhile, the subject has faded from the world’s TV screens, but like many of the other conflicts in Myanmar still goes on. Even the pope managed to fail to mention it while in the country. In Myanmar, the official version is still believed in almost all quarters and any alternative view is down to foreign dislike of Myanmar and its leaders. Something of a mistaken assumption as Aung Sun Suu Kyi is still someone seen as a heroic leader by most of the world, and until this crisis, she was almost the “Asian Nelson Mandela”. Carefully burying the rest of the administration’s human rights abuses in the sand.

In such a country, the problems of the Football organisations appear to be small potatoes. Still, I cannot help but think that devolving the development of the game away from Yangon would not only be good for the game, but could act for the good of the country. Half the teams play home games in front of miniscule crowds in one city, while the other half travel from this city to play in front of much better crowds elsewhere. If the government could help provide facilities for football in Rakhine (Rohingya), Chin (Chin) and Hpa-an (Karen), this might be a move in the right direction for bringing communities together, rather than the conflicts that plague the country.

Still, I leave with the thought that the country’s chosen name is so close to the that of the Muppet song, Manah Manah, Myanmar? And the lyrics are so appropriate to the way home and foreign governments seem to view the problems

Myanmar? (ba dee bedebe), Myanmar, (ba debe dee)
Maynmar! (ba dee bedebe badebe badebe dee dee de-de de-de-de)

ATW90 – Hong Kong

Thursday, February 8th, 2018

Once again out of sequence, this is part of the series of articles being written for the book, Around the World in 90 minutes

Please send any comments or corrections to

Please follow me on facebook (Leo Hoenig), Twitter (@leohoenig) or Instagram (@hoenigleo)

I am indebted to Christopher KL Lau, Editor and Photographer for and for providing invaluable background assistance to this article. The two web sites that Chris writes for provide an invaluable source of information in English for Hong Kong and Chinese Football respectively, (with Macau football also appearing on offside).

Following from India, I head back to China to meet the wife and boy again. They have booked into the holiday resort of Sanya, on Hainan Island for Chinese New Year. My flight times are not ideal, I have to change planes in Hong Kong. A flight from Mumbai, leaving at 2 a.m. gets there at 10.00, but the departure is not until 08.45 the next morning

On the other hand, there are Hong Kong League fixtures at 2.30 and 5.30 in the afternoon. I had visited Mong Kok Stadium, where the late match was being played before, but that was 26 years ago and the stadium was completely rebuilt in 2011. The other change in Hong Kong football was that on my earlier visits, only the Mong Kok and National Stadiums were used for the top level league, while now each team has its designated ground. There are still two clubs, Kitchee and Eastern sharing at the Mong Kok, while R&F play their games in mainland China. R&F are affiliated to Guangzhou R&F of the Chinese Super League

My flight is delayed before it starts, and then gets held in a holding pattern before landing in Hong Kong, so it is after 12 noon before I clear the airport. My hold luggage is checked through, so I save time in not having to wait for it, but this is, as I will discover only part blessing, and partly a curse.

The trouble is, that I have placed my coat in the bag. It has been 30o plus at the end of the India trip, and it will be around 25 in Sanya. I have been to Hong Kong several times in the past, including this time of year and the temperature has always been hot and humid.

It is 11o Centigrade when I arrive, and the temperature will barely rise (or fall) during my stay. Every local is wearing coats, while all I have is a double layer of short sleeved T-shirts.

My hotel has been chosen around my destination. I use the airport express train to Kowloon station, then one stop on the local metro and a short walk. I check in around one. After a little rigmarole with the room, I am out again within 30 minutes and arrive at the Sham Shui Po Sports ground just after two.

The ground is simple. It has an athletics track, and one covered stand with all concrete seats. The admission charge is HK$80, about £7. The capacity is shown as 2,194 and I guess it is that precise, as there is no route to go around the sides of the track and watch from outside the stand. It is a sports ground, with some other facilities outside the fences of the main stadium. The best feature is a small gate that marks the entrance from the road.

The home club here is Rangers, also known as Hong Kong Rangers, or thanks to the sponsorship as Biu Chun Rangers. They are currently bottom of ten in the league, not far enough adrift though that they cannot escape the single relegation spot. The visitors, Pegasus are also sometimes prefixed Hong Kong. They have had sponsors initials (JSW) or name (Sun) preceding the name in the past, but at the moment they are simply Pegasus.

Pegasus are second in the league at the moment, but with an eight-point deficit and less than half the season to play, they are not likely to be able to stop Kitchee winning another title. Kitchee are the dominant force in Hong Kong football. This is the fourth season of the Hong Kong Premier League, and they have two titles and on runners-up prize to date. They also won the first division in three of the last four years that this was the top competition, again being runners-up for the other season. With participation in the Asian Champions League groups stages about to start, they have just signed Diego Forlan. The 38 year old Uruguayan had not had a club since playing for Mumbai City in the 2016 Indian Super League, but has scored five times in his first four matches in Hong Kong.

Pegasus start the game showing a little arrogance. It appeared that they believed that by turning up, they had already secured all three points. The leader of this opinion appears to be Awal Mahama. I have him down as right back, but he seems to be wandering all over the field, leaving his team very exposed at the back, with two very good chances to open the scoring mid-way through the half. First Chuck Yiu Kwok goes past the right back as if he isn’t there. (Well, actually, he wasn’t there) and beats another defender before forcing a save, and then a long shot hits the crossbar.

At the other end, it is the antics of Pegasus’ Ukrainian goalkeeper Oleski Shliakotin that grabs the attention. He appears to punch every ball that comes close, but not always in the right direction. At times, he looks comical, and an accident waiting to happen, but when a shot strikes a defender’s hand and the referee awards a very dubious penalty, he dives to his left to punch the ball away.




In the second half we have more of the same, but the Pegasus players have clearly been told during the break that to stop messing around. The formation is changed slightly, so as the right back slot is covered and Mahama can play his free reigning preference. The effect is almost immediate, as in the 47th minute Pegasus have two or three shots blocked, until the ball falls to the feet of Niko Komazec just outside the area, who strikes it back in the open the scoring.

It is almost inevitable that Shliakotin would gift a chance at some point, and in the 66th minute he practically drops the ball at Mahama’s feet and it is 2-0. Five minutes later, Major receives a cross and makes up for his missed penalty. 3-0.

Rangers, who are not that bad a side and have contributed well to an entertaining game finally get a little reward for their efforts in the 78th minute when Marco Krasic converts a penalty.

During the second half, I get to talk to a Hong Kong FA official who is acting as a match observer. I ask him about players such as Eugene Petit Mbende Mbone, who is not listed as a foreigner, but does not sound like a typical Hong Kong name. It turns out that he has been playing in Hong Kong since 2008, and that any player can apply for residence status after seven years, meaning they no longer count as a foreign player. They can then go on to apply for Hong Kong passport if they wish, making them eligible for the national team. When I look closer, it turns out that only three of the national team players starting their last Asian Cup qualifier were actually born in Hong Kong.

I know that in some countries, improved rankings by playing players that are not natives of the country has caused resulted in supporters feeling the team does not represent them, but Chris Lau tells me the opposite is the case in Hong Kong. “I believe quite a few fans support players who give up their own nation’s passports, which is a large sacrifice, to play for the national team. Former Hong Kong coach Kim Pan-Gon liked to select many of the naturalised players so it will be interesting to see what the new coach (unknown at this time) will do in the future.” Chris also says that it has not been these players that created a lack of opportunities for youngsters to come through the system in Hong Kong, but the attitude of families in Hong Kong, to always pressure their children to do well academically. “this means the number of local players coming through to be professional players is not as high as before. Given Hong Kong only has a few professional clubs then the opportunities to play are not very high either. Recently, with the rise in greater professionalism in Asian football and a shift in attitude, players see more chances to play across Asia and many youngsters are coming up the ranks so I believe we will see many more youngsters in the national team soon.”

The high use of naturalised players goes some way to explaining why the Hong Kong team has moved up the rankings from a no-hoper to a team who could qualify for a major tournament, but does it also explain the drop in crowd figures. The HKFA officer drew a deep breath when the crowd was announced as 279.

When I looked up my previous visits to Hong Kong, in 1991 and 1995, the crowds were in excess of 5000 – and checking with a player who played during that era, it was confirmed that these crowds were typical, with league averages being at least 3000 per game over the season. Over the last decade, one can trace the league averages on the internet, and they have tended to be around the 1000 mark every season. The Chinese club, R&F do not draw much of a crowd, but tend to be excluded from the official figures. The numbers are always up slightly when Hong Kong FC are not in the top division, and down again when they are.

Hong Kong FC are a bit of an anachronism – despite the low crowds, the Premier League is a professional league, relying mainly on their owners to provide subsidies to pay the players. HKFC entered last season as a non-professional club, with players contracts worth just HK$1 (about 9p). While they could not compete, they are top of the lower division this season.

Even back in the 90s, they could not pull much of a crowd. The day before I saw a match at the Mongkok stadium with a crowd of at least 5000, I saw the club play at home in front of 142 in the same league. It appeared as the last bastion of white rule. While on the field the rules meant they had to play a minimum number of local players of Chinese descent, in the clubhouse the only Chinese faces were serving the drinks. I didn’t stay long.

Drawing back to memories of my earlier visits, both involved a team known as Sing Tao who appeared to have a penchant for English keepers. The first time I saw them, they had Peter Guthrie in goal, and their opponent’s manager was quoted in the South China Morning Post as saying he was like giving his side a goal start, (they won 1-0). Oddly, I also remember the quote from a Spurs fan when Guthrie signed for them from Weymouth. At the time, Weymouth had six keepers on their books. “One for every day of the week except Saturday”.

When I went to the Hong Kong stadium in 1995, Maurice Munden was in goal, and kept a clean sheet. It had been the third time I saw him play that season. The other matches were for Ashford Town (Kent) in two different high scoring games. A 5-3 (after extra time) defeat at Fulham in an FA Cup First Round replay, and a 5-4 win in an away game against Wealdstone. I know I managed to speak to him briefly at the end of the game, and mentioned the contrast between Craven Cottage and the Hong Kong Stadium.

It seems Hong Kong has suffered a similar malaise in local club support to many other areas, as the world has become smaller and the television has taken control. Chris Lau again “Back in the fifties through to the early nineties, Hong Kong football games used to attract thousands of people regardless if it was a local league game or if teams came from overseas to play in friendlies. In that time period, Hong Kong football was considered as one of the best leagues in Asia if not the best [Editor’s note – results in the Asian Club Championship never supported this consideration, but then the AFC competitions were much less regarded at this time]. The league drew well-known overseas players such as Alan Ball (Eastern) and Arie Haan (Seiko) to the city which generated large crowds. Through those boom years, there were also many talented local born players like Leslie Santos, Ku Kam-Fai and Wu Kwok-Hung who remain household names and whom also drew in fans. Teams like Seiko, South China, Eastern were seen as the dominate teams in Hong Kong and any clashes between them would see full-houses.”

“The crowds began to dwindle and decline from the mid-nineties onwards with the advent of cable TV when games from England began to be screened live to Hong Kong (and the Asia-Pacific). This soon grew to include Serie A, Bundesliga’s, La Liga, etc and soon football fans could watch quality football at a touch of a button. Instead of going down to a stadium to watch a game, fans could see the best players in the world in the comfort of their own home.”

Another factor in the drop in attendances may be the disappearance of some teams. Sing Tao folded in 1999, while no less than five top division clubs decided against making the transition when the Hong Kong Premier League was founded four years ago. At the end of last season, South China FC took voluntary relegation for financial reasons. As one of the most successful clubs in Hong Kong history, this must have come as a shock to the establishment. With many of the teams still being part of commercial companies, and some coming and going without notice, it can be difficult for support to mobilise behind a team. Still, the recent moves where the teams now play across the territory may help in giving them a core group of fans.

There are still occasional big name signings that bring at least temporary boosts to the support of their club. The most prominent have signed in mid-season, making them available for Asian Club competitions and given a mid-season headline. This year it is Diego Forlan that has made the headline. In the past players such as Nicky Butt have featured. Butt finished his career with 13 games for South China in 2010-11. Five of the games were in the AFC Cup.

It should not have done. Hong Kong is running a professional league with very little marketing, no TV deal and very little identity. In the 1980s, the territory could hold its own – famously winning away to China in a 1985 World Cup qualifier. As I discovered in the 90s, the league could draw good crowds.

At about the time of the handover of the territory to China, Football was excluded from the Hong Kong Sports Institute, and the facilities to train young players was lost. It appears that the decline in the local sport can be dated back to this event. Although national team results have improved again recently, this may not be due to improved coaching of Hong Kong players, but the assimilation of a growing number of foreigners into the national team.

Even in Hong Kong, a territory that has always been a very welcoming to the incomer, this may well be a step too far. Both at club and national level, the teams provide little for the local to identify with. The World Cup home match against China was played at the Mongkok stadium, not the far larger Hong Kong Stadium, and yet was still a little short of capacity. Reports say the Hong Kong FA made it difficult for their regular fans to cross the border for the away match, (which the Chinese FA staged in the border town of Shenzhen). Instead of making tickets available to regular supporters, they were mainly allocated to corporate sponsors

There are small fan groups wearing colours and waving flags at both stadiums I went to. Areas are allocated in the stand for these supporters, although neither Rangers (despite being the home club) or Yuen Long had any in evidence.

After the game had finished, I made my way to the Mongkok Stadium. The journey is quite simple, three stops on the metro with a short walk at each end. The stadium has been completely remodelled since I was last there, and while it actually cannot seat as many people, it does look better.

Unlike Sham Shui Po, which had practically no mention of the club from outside the ground, the Mongkok has been well clothed, inside and out as the stadium of Eastern Long Lions. The club name is just Eastern, with the sponsors title added on. It was even possible to buy a limited amount of merchandise outside the stadium. All of this must be removable, as the ground is shared with another Premier League club, and will be used for other events between match days.

The renovation was done in 2011. The stadium has four sides, all built in a similar style. The two ends are uncovered stands, while there is a membrane cove stretched above the two sides. The stand on the northern side of the ground is significantly smaller than the south stand and the diamond shape of the cover must mean it would rarely protect the fans from rain or sun.

As for the game, it was not as entertaining as the first match of the day. Both of the teams involved are in the bottom half of the table, and neither seemed capable of really breaking through. The home side, Eastern (with branding, Eastern Long Lions) started well and a good individual move by Michel Antunes Lugo meant they took an early lead.

Despite their lower position in the table, the visitors Yuen Long (with branding, Sun Bus Yuen Long) had a much greater share of possession, but they tended to rely too much on their foreign contingent of four Brazilian players. The Brazilians in turn did not appear to trust the locals so much and hence were more predictable and it was easier to dispossess them before they became a danger. Still they managed more (mainly off-target) shots than the home side, and eventually got a player in the right place, at the right time to draw a foul (exaggerated off course by a dive). Everton Camargo scored from the spot to equalise, and the final result was 1-1. Meaning that there was no Hong Kong player, (true or assimilated) on the scoresheet of either game I saw


ATW90 – Bangladesh

Wednesday, January 24th, 2018

This is the fifth in a series of posts I am making, which will be extended to create a book, Around the World in 90 Minutes.

[It is out of sequence, as there are two delayed posts to write up]

Please send any comments or inaccuracies to

For future posts, where I am going, follow me on, twitter @leohoenig and Instagram @hoenigleo

They don’t make it easy to get into Bangladesh. Visa on arrival should be straight forward, but here it is anything but. First you have to fill in two forms – no specific reason for this as far as I could see as the same general information was on both. Then you have to queue to pay. The sign says that it is US$20 for a transit visa, and US$50 for a normal visa. Many of those queuing (including myself) ask about the transit visa, but they are told they cannot get it here. So, it is US$50 to enter, plus another dollar as tax. The point of this is unclear, as surely the whole sum is a tax.

I then queue again to pick up my visa, where I meet with an official who is determined to make things difficult, both my onward reservation and hotel booking are on my phone, rather than paper – and worse still, I do not have an invitation to enter the country. After taking time to tell me I needed this, and then going back on his original acceptance of my electronic reservations, I had the visa added to my passport and was allowed to enter.

I then just had to get past the various touts and find the car that was taking me to the hotel. This is not easy as there are three places where people wait with name cards for transport. Once in the car, we waited about 20 minutes to turn right at the first junction, and I did not get to the hotel for two and a half hours after landing.

Dhaka is cycle rickshaw central, with more of the beasts here clogging the roads than anywhere else. I tried a ride which took around 20 minutes. Cheap, but I recommend them for shorter trips only. It can be scary as they negotiate traffic, and the suspension leaves a lot to be desired.

With it taking near enough three hours from the plane landing to being in the hotel, and as I was suffering from some type of “man and boy-flu”, (my son had it when I left China, my wife did not get it), I was straight to bed and did not show myself to the outside world until after lunchtime the next day, when I made the relatively short walk from my hotel to the national football stadium

The Bangabandhu stadium is a big bowl, which in its time has staged the first ever home cricket test matches for both Pakistan and Bangladesh. It has been refurbished on several occasions, and since 2005 it has been a football and athletics stadium only

I did not see anyone selling tickets, and just walked straight in. The first thing I noticed was that almost every seat in the west stand where I entered was broken. Looking around, it appeared that some areas were better, but that the maintenance has been left for many years. The stadium was used for the opening ceremony of the cricket world cup, but it is difficult to believe that the ground has fallen into this mush disrepair in as little as seven years

To the south east were a number of corporate boxes while at the southern end was a curious structure, which looks a bit like a prototype for the media centre at Lord’s

All matches in the Bangladesh League, and for the matter for the independence cup which starts next week are played at this stadium

I am watching each the current top three teams, and Farashgonj, bottom of the table.

Farashgonj need a win to have a chance of escaping relegation, while Sheikh Jamal have nothing to play for as the results over the last couple of weeks means they must finish in second place.

It is therefore not really a surprise that Farashgonj are more eager in the early part of the game, with their Nigerian forward, Chinedu Matthew having the power and pace to practically win the game on his own. Midway through the first half, he ran onto a through ball by Liton and placed his team one up. Not long after, the Sheikh Jamal goalkeeper and a defender got into a right muddle and Matthew was again on hand. This time he was brought down by the goalkeeper, and slotted in the penalty. Five minutes later it was Matthew again who beat the defence, this time laying the ball across for Alamgir to make it 3-0

With the game apparently won, the second half was somewhat lacking. Sheikh Jamal now had more of the ball, but we go halfway through the period without a single effort worthy of the name. When two chances presented themselves, both were hit wide of the target.

They did finally pull one back, in the 89th minute, Anisur Alam got fouled very gently in the box, (still getting a yellow card), and Sheikh Jamal’s Gambian forward, Solomon scored from the penalty spot

The second game got going about ten minutes late, and it is fair to say that nothing at all happened in the first half. One might have thought the Chittagong version of Abahani woud try to get one over on their Dhaka namesakes, but there was little evidence that either side was concerned about the result.

The second half was no better, with the most notable happening being that Abahani (Dhaka) switched from played in a grey strip to yellow, and one player changed his number, (he was wearing a wrong number before the break). Abahani (Dhaka) managed to knock the ball against the post with around 10 minutes to play, but generally this was poor football with no enthusiasm at all

With the League finishing this week, the national independence cup starts a few days later. For the league, the teams were allowed to have three foreigners signed on and to play two of them at anyone time. When it comes to the cup, they will have to make do with local players only. Supposedly, this will help the local players to get more of a chance. What the contracted but idle foreigners do at this juncture is anyone’s guess.

The Asian Football Confederation runs two tiers of international club competition. The Champions League and the AFC Cup. There are basically four levels of country participation.

  1. The top countries, like Japan, China, Saudi Arabia and Iran get direct slots in the Champions League. They may also have a team playing qualification for remaining places. Any of these that lose are finished with continental competition for the season
  2. For the next level of country, such as India, the Champions play in qualification for the Champions League, but are also allocated a place in the group stage of the AFC Cup. Should they qualify for the Champions League, then they have a designated replacement club who will take the group place. These countries may have another team playing in the AFC Cup, either with direct entry, or qualification to the group stage
  3. The third level only have teams in the AFC Cup. Bangladesh and the Maldives both have one directly qualified for the group and one in qualification knock out. India has the same, but their main entry also plays for the Champions League. Bhutan had a team in AFC Qualifying only.
  4. Finally, there are the country with no entries. The AFC does not specify any countries as not suited to competition, but would have to re-arrange something without this group. Most of these countries have failed to comply with AFC Licencing rules, (hence no Sri Lanka), a couple are under FIFA suspension (no Pakistan), while although listed as not complying with licensing rules, one country has no league to qualify from at the moment (so, no Nepal).

Bangladesh, as mentioned have one place in the group stage of the AFC Cup. There is just one “South Asian” group, and Abahani as champions will take their place with Aizawl (or designated replacement, Mohun Bagan), the Maldivian champions and a play off winner who can come from Bangladesh, Maldives, India or Bhutan.

Neither runners-up Sheikh Jamal, or Abahani Chittagong had managed to get through the licensing procedure, so they play off team will be Saif. Oddly, the league’s main sponsor is also Saif! Saif are the team coached by former Weston-super-Mare goalkeeper Ryan Northcote, and who feature former Woking player, Charlie Sheringham in attack. [It means Charlie is not far from his Dad, Terry Sheringham, currently coaching at ATK, the Kolkata club in the Indian Super League]

As the key city to Bangladesh, Dhaka struggles to present an attractive prospect. The people you meet tend to be friendly, and polite, and you frequently get asked where you are from. I did not get hassled by beggars, although one of the cycle rickshaws followed me for half a mile before taking the hint that I meant what I said, that I would be walking for at least an hour.

The abiding sound of the city is the cacophony of car hooters and cycle bells (from the rickshaws). You cannot help but notice the state of the local buses, many hundreds of which can pass you. Almost without exception, they are dented and scratched on every single panel. I did ask, but could not get an explanation of how they got into this state. They appeared as if they may have been running in a demolition derby between shifts carrying the population of Dhaka around. The sights are few and far between, unless you count the massive jumble of human activity. It did appear the streets, and particularly the pavements got busier after dark. As I had been struggling health wise through the trip, I did not go out. Even had I been feeling healthier, there are no bars to go to, plenty of chances to eat though. Exiting the country turned out to be easier than entering, although slower than I had hoped as the flight was rescheduled as one hour late and was actually much later.

On the Saturday after I left, Rahmatgonj, who had dropped to bottom following Farashgonj’s win, surprised Saif – who could have risen from fourth to third. Rahmatgonj’s win returned Farashgonj to the relegation position. Three of the six matches in the last round of fixtures (one each day) finished scoreless. Over 13% of the matches in the league for the season finished scoreless, making it one of the best places in the world for the game without goals.

My appearance at the game caused a lot of interest in the press box, and gave me a chance to discuss the prospects of Bangladesh football. Curiously, they tell me there are several other stadiums that could be used for League football, both in the Dhaka area and further afield. The major ground in Chittagong has been known to stage games in the past. While all are agreed that more interest could be created in the games by staging some teams games elsewhere, it appears there is no interest within the Bangladesh Football Federation in changing anything.

ATW90. Bhutan Part 2. Thimpu

Wednesday, January 17th, 2018

This is the fourth in a series of posts I am making, which will be extended to create a book, Around the World in 90 Minutes.

Please send any comments or inaccuracies to

For future posts, where I am going, follow me on, twitter @leohoenig and Instagram @hoenigleo


Sunday morning and I am heading north again, for most of the way to Thimpu, we follow the roads we had used to come down from Paro, with just a little diversion near the end. The scenery as you run back through the hills is just as spectacular as going the other way, and I certainly have not tired of it.

The fact that the journey takes over four hours, for a distance that we could easily cover on a good European motorway (i.e. not the M25) in 90 minutes in not lost on me. There is one official stop on route, at a restaurant overlooking a power project, and a couple of extras, so as I can take photos while the driver and guide enjoy cigarettes.

A large portion of the population of Bhutan are smokers, despite the fact that there are no shops that buy and sell tobacco. I would have been allowed to bring cigarettes in with me, but a high duty is payable. Yeshi (my guide) implied that in fact cigarettes are quite easy to obtain, but did not go into detail.

It is a chance to reflect on the other things that the road traveller enjoys in Bhutan. Prayer flags are everywhere, fluttering in the wind, which supposedly releases the prayers. Also prevalent are the small stupas (known as Tsa-tsa, or chortens) that look like stone fairy cakes. These gather in groups, sometimes in their hundreds as a spiritual offering. Each one is must be hand made and contains a prayer. You do not buy these in shops, but craft them yourself, chanting prayers as you mould them from the mud or clay.



But if there is one thing that distinguishes the roadside in Bhutan, it is the road safety signs. Mainly pained on wooden, boards, but occasional painted direct onto cliff faces, the signs give safe driving advice, almost always in English, and often with a little humour in their rhyming couplets

These amused me enough that I started recording them as I went

“For safe arriving, No liquor in driving”

“Speed is a knife, that cut’s life”

“Faster, will create disaster”

“Be Mr Late, Not Late Mr”

“After Whisky, Driving Risky”



Arriving in the capital, I am taken to a hotel that is practically opposite the stadium. This allows me to worry as I relax as I can see the occasion movement of football down below me. Is the kick off time wrong? Have they started without me? Of course, the answer is no – it is explained to me the following day that since the artificial surface has replaced the rutted grass, there is no end of people trying to book the pitch, and it could easily be played on 24 hours a day, at least over the weekend if the Bhutan Football Federation would allow it.

Changlimithang Stadium View from the hotel, with a Buddha standing behind, hopefully blessing the sportsmen and women of Bhutan

I do most of my sightseeing in the town the following day, and to be honest, it is not the most exciting of towns. There are a couple of interesting and colourful displays, and a very large Buddha overlooking it all. Not for the first time, I am told that I am looking at the world’s biggest, although as the Bhutanese are never one to overstress themselves, this statement is qualified that it was when created, and therefore there may be bigger, newer images.

And so, to the Changlimithang stadium and the match, an evening kick-off, but with a little day light left when I enter the ground.

Most of the seating is on the side where you are entering, where vast banks of plastic bucket seats line the side. At one end, the seats curve round until they reach a line behind the goal. At the other end, there is a more unusual situation, where the line continues straight, although with less fitted seats on the concrete steps. It is possible for there to be a second (grass) pitch end to end with the main pitch, and before you reach the archery grounds further down this end. At the moment, this is not marked out. There is just a path behind the goal

Opposite the main seating area is the grandstand, and this must go down as one of the most impressive stands in world football.

The seats in the main stand tend not to be fitted, and when I went over to this side for the second half, I got to sit on a “comfy” seat, with cushions. There are two large steps behind me, where I would imagine more seats could be brought out when the occasion demands. I sat on the right had side of the stand, with the left side being somewhat similar. The central section is the royal box, and hence was out of bounds, even with no VIPs at the game.

I estimated the crowd as just under 400, most of which stayed on the main side. At least a quarter of which were in monk’s robes. The monks however, in common with most of the crowd spent a large portion of their time consulting their smart phones.

A group of monks watching intently, (unless they get a message on their phone)

At one stage, I recall the British press reporting on Bhutan allowing a limited amount of TV into the country. In fact, the first TV broadcast in the country, which was just to a screen in the main square of Thimpu was the 1998 World Cup Final. It was the success of this venture that prompted the allowance of TV the following year.

Despite fears that TV would impinge on the general way of life in the kingdom, and a review five years after it was started, the availability of TV has increased dramatically. There are now two national TV stations, but citizens also have access to Indian cable and satellite channels and can watch a smorgasbord of European football for just a few pounds a month.

The fears that this would change the way of life seem not to be realised, but the new revolution, the smart phone is having far more effect than TV ever will

Thimpu City, second placed in the league but needing Transport United to slip up twice in two games if they are to win the league, thanks to a rule that if points are equal, the league is settled by head to head, not goal difference. A club official said to me before the game that they regretted voting for that rule and might try to change it for 2018

The first half was expected, with City ending the session 2-0 in front. The first came after 15 minutes, when a long ball left the U-17 national player Nima Tshering in space to score with confidence. On 39 minutes, Longtok Dawa took a shot that squirmed under the visiting keeper for 2-0.

I was predicting more of the same for the second half and maybe a four goal difference at the end. I was wrong.

Chencho Gyeltschen had been pointed out to me as the star player, but his first half performance did not justify this. Still, just two minutes into the second period, he succeeded in getting behind the visiting defence and although his ball went straight to the keeper, it then bounced out so as Longtok Dawa could score again.

The door was now unlocked, especially as immediately after CG7 had scored the fourth in the 52nd minute (a simple header from a corner), Damash replaced the tiring Nima Tshering.
58 mins 5-0 (CG7).
63 mins 6-0 (Damish)
66 mins 7-0 (CG7)
71 mins 8-0 (Damish)
74 mins 9-0 (CG7)
75 mins 10-0 (Damish)
79 mins 11-0 (Damish)
80 mins 12-0 (CG7)
85 mins 13-0 (Longtok Dawa)

So five for Chercho Gyeltshen, four for Damish, three for Dawa and one for Nima.

I commented to Yeshi that the difference was that in the first half, Thimpu City were employing a very direct approach to the game, and attacking in the middle of the park. After the break, the sought the spaces that were always available on the wings and got behind the defence.

Thimpu City had an Englishman, Vincent Deacon as player-coach. He was an unused substitute in this game. I spoke to him briefly at the end of the game. Asking him first how he came be a football coach in Bhutan, he gave me a brief synopsis.

“I played semi-professional football in England for a long time, I played for a professional club, Rushden and Diamonds – not starting – just trained in my youth” Which semi-professional team?

“Rushden and Higham, in the United Counties League. I played for University teams when I was at University. I had an injury, damaged knee ligaments and I gave up playing after that”

“So I hadn’t played for six or seven years, never thought football would come up again. One of my brothers had trials at Wigan and Peterborough. He still has his dream in America, but I thought mine was over”

Deacon is apparently one of three brothers, all of which were taken on by different football league teams, but all discarded at the line between youth football and professional contracts.

“I came to Bhutan as a teacher, I asked if there were any football leagues where I could just kick around, you know, nothing serious. I managed to get in touch with Yeshi*, who is, I guess the philanthropist in charge of all things football in Bhutan. I played for them last year in the National League and apparently, I did very well. So much so I was asked to stay on and become coach, and the rest is history. I was helping out as coach/player, then the first team coach went to Australia, and I was left in charge – and that’s the journey”

What do you think of Bhutan football overall? “Its good, there are some good technical players”

It seems there is a big gap between the better teams and the others, “Yes, there is a massive gulf, you have two teams competing and that’s it. But the first XI, Bhutan’s football is improving, just look at how the national team is moving up the rankings” “They are now beating teams like Sri Lanka and Bangladesh, which they could not do five years ago”

“If you look at the Under-15s traun, you’ll see even more progress. There are some good players coming through. So Bhutanese football is heading in the right direction. All coaches that come here will tell you the same thing though. They need to stop just listening and doing as they’re told and actually do some thinking. All the coaches, the German coach for the National tea, the Japanese one for the Under-17s and myself have all said “question the coaches, question what you are doing, be more inquisitive”. I think that is the biggest change in Bhutanese football, they are starting to think, what are we doing, where is the space, and looking over your shoulder.

“If you take ten looks before you receive the ball, you know where everyone is, you know where to pass the ball, and all of a sudden you have more time”

I ask about the league fixture structure. Despite having only ten rounds of the league season, it has been rather strung out. Seven games were played together, than we had the week I was there with round 8 at the weekend, round 9 in the following midweek – and finally round 10 is two weeks later

“Yes its strange, we play two games in a couple of days, and then have to wait two weeks for the next one” I ask if there is a reason as I didn’t understand this. “I don’t understand either, its something the coaches need to sort out at the meetings with the FA, its very hard for a coach to maintain continuity”

“The fixture list is something we should improve, and this should in turn help the players”

I said I thought they needed more matches overall

“I agree, maybe we can play each team three or four times. There is a Thimpu league, and then there is a national league, so the Thimpu teams have twice as many fixtures. This (the National League) is meant to be the showcase of Bhutanese football. This may not be true as the Thimpu league is more competitive”

“There is talk of putting Pheuntsholing into the B league in Thimpu” to give them more fixtures, which could be beneficial to them”

“There is another team in Punakha called Uygen Academy. All their games are very tight, they are still losing, but they lost by 1-0 to Transport, by one goal to us”

“When we played against Transport, it was a strange one. As a team we were unbeaten in quite a long while”. (City had finished ahead to Transport to win the Thimpu League), “We scored two early goals and everyone thought we were going to steamroller them, but we stopped playing, and then we lost that game. The problem we are seeing with the National League is we lose one game, and we’ve lost the league”. (The two had drawn in the opening game of the season, but the second meeting finished 6-3 to Transport – Transport finished with nine wins and a draw, City lost and drew with Transport and also dropped a point in the final game, when they were held by Uygen Academy).

“You have to say the team that won deserved it, but one game and losing the title, it’s hard to take”

For the record, Thimpu City only lost twice in 2017, playing 26 games. They won the Thimpu League with a record of 13 wins and a draw, they were second in the National League, 7 wins, two draws, one defeat and a two legged tie against Valencia (Maldives) in qualifying for the AFC Cup. They lost that 3-0, all goals in the second (away) leg.

After that, I took time to go to a microbrewery, fortuitously located in the next block to my hotel. The bar was not particularly busy, and I could watch something from the Premier League on TV. The beers were well worth it though.

The following day we went around the museum, which was quite interesting, if a little small. I got to fire an arrow using an old-style bow, rather than the modern behemoth. I managed to fly it over the compound wall, but fortunately did not cause injury

From there, it was onto a craft museum and then a visit to the Bhutan Football Federation, where I met with the general secretary, Ugyen Wangchuk and had a lengthy discussion about the game in Bhutan. Some of his comments have been used to inform the two blog articles, while the rest of the interview will add to the Bhutan section when “Around the World in 90 minutes” is published. It will be interesting to compare this with what is seen to happen over the next year or two.

The federation headquarters are at a training ground. Although this has an artificial surface, in common with the Changlimithang Stadium, it does not appear to get so much use. The ground appears good enough to stage some low level competitive football, but apparently this is rare

The ground has nicely raised spectator accommodation on one side, with the best above the changing room block

After that, we did return to Paro, once again following the scenic valleys, and stopping at the more interesting places for viewing and cigarettes




We also stopped at the ground Paro United use, some 5km out of town. One can see why they are desperate to build a new venue, (with artificial surface) closer to the town

It is an impossible, rutted surface – yet two days after I took the photo, Paro played at home there. If I had one disappointment from the whole trip, it was that the Bhutan tourist taxes made it impossible for me to make a longer trip and possibly include Paro, or even Uygen.

With all the meals included in the price, they made sure I ate well during the trip. Bhutan has its own distinctive cuisine, which is neither quite Indian, nor quite Chinese, but certainly quite worth trying

My guide and driver saying farewell at the airport. The traditional clothing that they wore throughout is seen throughout the country. It also appears to be compulsory as school uniforms.



ATW 90. Bhutan Part 1. Phuentsholing

Friday, January 5th, 2018

This is the third in a series of posts I am making, which will be extended to create a book, Around the World in 90 Minutes.

Please send any comments or inaccuracies to

For future posts, where I am going, follow me on, twitter @leohoenig and Instagram @hoenigleo

When thinking of the trip to Bhutan, the first question is one of logistics. You cannot go direct to the country from the UK, so one has to go somewhere else and then change. Bhutan is one of two small countries, sandwiched in the Himalayas between India and China, and my first thoughts were to fly to Kathmandu, and then use the flights between the two capitals.

However, Nepalese football is a mess. Some of my friends spent a week there when there was a tournament, and said I should try to also go for a week. There was an international match in the Asian Cup qualification, but this was on the second stadium in the capital. The primary stadium appears to be out of use. There are no signs that a Nepalese League has restarted, since suspended due to the earthquake in 2015. Local websites show that there appeared to be an intention to restart this season, but it appears they never go around to it.

I would still like to go to Nepal, and I am looking out to see if they resume league fixtures next year.

I considered a short jaunt to India, although my mind says that this is the least sensible place to visit on a short trip. Anyway, for this season there was a FIFA Under-17 season being played there, with the result that the league season was delayed in starting. My trip was to start during an international weekend, so I checked Singapore, which also has a direct flight into Bhutan – but the new National stadium was not being used for their Asian Cup qualification game. Probably on the grounds that hardly anyone was going to watch it anyway. (They got 3,712 at Jelan Besar for the game against Turkmenistan, and surprisingly they then chose to play at the National stadium against Bahrain, with less than 3,000 turning out).

And so, it had to be Thailand – a place I am quite familiar with, but where I have not seen fixtures since they installed a proper national league structure.

The next question for anyone travelling the Bhutan is getting in and around. You cannot simply apply for a visa, book flights and hotels and arrive at the airport. Bhutan travel is dependent on booking through a tour agency, and paying in advance for all transport, hotels, meals and visa fees.

The agents must be approved by the government of Bhutan, and a full list is given on a government website. There is little information as to how to select a tour agent

Most tours take the visitors up from the capital into the mountains, and then onto a trek, while I wanted to take in football matches in the other direction. Also, I wanted to be sure the fixtures were as published on the soccerway international website.

I sent e-mails to three tour agents, chosen at random from the list. I am still awaiting a reply from two of them. The third proposed a tour, and confirmed the fixtures for the remainder of the season with the Bhutanese Football Federation. In this case, Soccerway was accurate.

The Bhutan government demands a minimum spend for everyday spent in the country. This is reduced for larger tour groups, but I was on my own at the full price. There was a delay in getting the money through the international banking system, so I ended up arriving in Cambodia on my side trip before I finally got my visa through.

For the record, a tour starting on a Friday, finishing on a Tuesday and including four nights in local hotels, and including flights to and from Bangkok cost £1655. Within Bhutan, my only expense was beer! I might have been expected to pay to enter the football grounds, but they did not make a charge. My tour guide did take me to a few places where no doubt he would have got commission if I had bought some arts or crafts, but no luck for him there.

After my trip to Cambodia, I got back to Bangkok airport around 10.30 at night, six hours before the flight to Bhutan was due to leave. I was disappointed that Thai Airways would not book my luggage through, so I had no choice but to go through customs, pick up my bags, wait until two, go through check in and security and finally board the flight to Bhutan.

This means filling in the arrival form for Thai immigration, and queuing to enter the country. I did not please the official here as I had not stated where I was staying – so I had to explain I was not staying.

The flight was in two stages, firstly to a small city in North East India, and then after a short break onwards to Paro. On the first stage, it was the fight between airlines and sleep. One is close to nodding off when they come around with the meal, and after this has one again is close to sleeping when the plane lands.

On the second leg, the pilot points out one of the world’s highest peaks to our left at over 29,000 feet. This is immediately after announcing we were cruising at 19,000! They even warned us not to be alarmed by the landing pathway, where the plane dives into the valley, with hills both sides, and then banks right to the airport.

It reminds you of the 1,762 (estimated figure) feature films where the hero is flying the plane, being pursued by the bad henchmen, and then swings violently to one side, while the other plane crashes into the mountain side.


I can tell you there was no pursuing aircraft, and although Paro is listed as one of the world’s most dangerous airports, the Aviation Safety Network reports “no incidents”.

I was met at the airport by my tour guide, Yeshi, and by a guide whose name I took to be Jimmy (in my mind, to be spoken with a Glaswegian accent). I think it was really Chime. I was whisked off to the local hotel, which was in the hill above the airport. One could hear every take-off and landing, but as Bhutan does not have many air flights, and only in daylight, this was not going to stop me getting a good night’s sleep

On the first day, we took just a short look around Paro, the town posts a large Zhong (which is a local fortress) and the national museum, and two main streets, one of which appeared to be for the local shopping, and the other filled with tourist tat.

The Zhong in Paro

One of the features of the tourist tat on offer, is the amount of phallic art. Phalluses pictures are common sites in Bhutan, and can often be seen on the sides of houses and other buildings. This is put down to the “divine madman” the Lama Drukpa Kunley, who preached some 600 years ago, and apparently succeeded in shocking the conservative morals of the religious state of the time.

The cynic in me says that the shops in town are selling to uptight people who would tut-tut at a crude graffiti representation in the west, and who probably then hide them away. These are not souvenirs that many would place on their mantlepiece

At one end of the street were the archery grounds. Archery is publicised as the national sport of Bhutan. They actually have more people involved in football, (according at least to the Bhutan Football Federation), but I think they like to show something different.

On arriving at the grounds, a match had just been completed, but we stayed for a while to watch other players practicing, and to give me a first try at Bhutanese beer, (a not unpleasant, but unremarkable lager).

Bhutanese archery is not the same as the sport you may imagine. The archers have to fire their arrows at a small target over 100 yards from their standpoint, a group of archers will fire from one end of the range to the other, and then all move down to the other end and repeat the exercise in the opposite direction.

In order to deliver the projectile with any degree of accuracy over that distance, the bows used have to be very sophisticated


The arrows on the other hand are as simple as they come – a straight shaft, with small flights at one end, and a pointy bit at the other.

It was the next day that the adventure really started, and I got my view of Bhutan. Paro is in a valley, some 7,200 feet above sea level, (for comparison Ben Nevis is 4,400 feet). The road I would take rose about 1,500 feet from the valley floors as we found the pass between valleys, while the mountains each side of us were generally around 14-15,000 feet, about as high as the highest in Europe.

The really high mountains in Bhutan are further north than my journey would take me, but I was still surprised to pass peaks this high with not a sign of snow anywhere around, just trees all the way up to the summits. There are many ways in which Bhutan is a remarkable and unique country. The trees are the secret to one of these. Bhutan is the only country in the world that is carbon negative, that is it absorbs more Carbon Dioxide than it produces.

In Bhutan, they drive on the left. Some of the time. The driver explains his routing in keeping to the better road surface and avoiding pot holes. It also involves approaching corners where you cannot see whether or not there is oncoming traffic on the wrong side of the road. More than once, as you turn the corner, vehicles in both directions are swerving from the right-hand side of the road to the left and somehow avoiding meeting in the middle.

When we get to the narrower roads in the mountain passes, there is often hardly room to pass, without one vehicle coming dangerously close to the precipice. The potential drops make Michael Caine’s position at the end of “The Italian Job” seem like one small step. Still, all drivers assume that if you cannot see another vehicle, there is not one, and that stopping or slowing down is only considered while actually making the passing manoeuvre.

There is one thing that will persuade a vehicle to slow down. Cattle. It appears that they rule the road, and can stand or walk wherever they like. Even close to the towns it is not unusual to see a few cows wandering down the road or just taking a nap. You can blow your horn to warn a dog, a monkey, a car or a human that you are coming – but for a cow, one will quietly manoeuvre around the obstacle. You may even find someone coming the other way will slow or stop for you.

The state of the roads in places is a reminder that even the mountains are no more than a fleeting phenomenon in the history of the world. The potholes have been created by subsidence, ice, rain and rockfalls. It may take millennia to complete the process, but slowly and surely the weather, snow and ice, wind and rain is winning the war against the forces that create the mountains, and one day what are now the highest points of the earth will be reduced to gentle rolling hills.

In the meantime, the roads are being eroded on a weekly basis, and it takes constant work to keep them open. As part of the curious relationship between Bhutan and it’s southern neighbour, much of the road maintenance is undertaken by the Indian Army!

The road to Phuentsholing is one of the busiest in Bhutan, and the journey of 170 km will take four hours of driving. Bhutan depend on imports for most manufactured goods, for oil, and for some of their food. Almost all of this comes over the border from India through Phuentsholing, and then up the road we are travelling. There is therefore a constant movement of trucks, buses and cars on what is the country’s most important highway.

By contrast, Bhutan’s largest export is electricity, generated 100% from hydro-electric power stations. Especially as we started the descent to the border, the road was frequently crossed by the power lines conducting this out of the country.

The second biggest source of foreign currency is tourism, despite the price structure that keeps the independent back packer at bay. Naturally, I asked about this, and was told that about 25% of my money went straight into the exchequer as tax, while everything the tour company paid for would also be subject to a tax (around 10%). Bhutan does not raise much tax by personal taxation. It is a country with hardly any middle class, and as anyone knows the poor do not have money to pay taxes, and the rich have lawyers to avoid them.

Bhutan provides free education and health care to all, so my tax dollars were being put to use somewhere.

As this being the land where the measure of Gross National Happiness was invented, I asked about whether this was real, or just a gimmick. I had been disappointed that the links on the airline’s web page did not work, so I could not join their frequent flyer programme and get a “Happiness Card”. Sadly, the national anthem is a bit of a dirge telling everyone how wonderful the king is. It really ought to be Ken Dodd. The answer on the happiness question was not clear, but seemed to be about happiness coming from not desiring things you cannot have. The person who told me this, though, also said he really wanted a nice car. Meanwhile, the couple behind me in the queue at Bangkok airport for the flight checked in with two televisions, while I saw another person with a television in the line. (Apparently all electronic goods are cheaper in Bangkok, and one person can bring one TV through customs).

A small building like this contains a prayer wheel, allowing the illiterate to deliver their prayers. In some places the wheel is turned by hand, others can be water driven

There is a sudden change as you approach Phuentsholing, the altitude you are dropping at quickly, and you can see a bright and wide river in the distance, with the sun shining across it, it looks almost like a bank of gold shimmering in the haze.

The haze is of course, a reminder that the clean air that is a feature of most of Bhutan will not be so prevalent when one gets down to this city. By the time you arrive at the town you have dropped down, so as you are less than 1000 feet above sea level. There is a heat and humidity that one did not feel while higher up.

In addition, there are traffic jams, as lorries on both directions are trying to manoeuvre around the crowded streets, making their way in and out of the customs station. The final point is the Bhutan gate, which marks the border between India and Bhutan

We pull off the road just to the left of the monument, I am less than a Sunil Gavaskar drive from the Indian border, but I do not have a visa to pass through the gate.

I rest up at the hotel for a while. They were supposed to provide a meal, but somehow this got forgotten. I almost misjudge the timings, as I am so close to the Indian border that my computer has switched to Indian time.

Fortunately, I do manage to stir myself in good enough time, and on my guide’s advice, we walk back up to the ground, which we had managed to spot when coming into town. The walk is less than 10 minutes, the weather is warm and humid, with a threat of rain in the air.

We enter through the gate, there is no admission charge. I like the ground, the stone wall and archway entrance gives it gravitas before you even enter.

Around most of the ground, there are about five steps of stone terracing. There is a building on one side with two floors, and providing the only cover from the weather. During the second half, I take some shelter there as it starts to rain. I quickly obtain a view of the visiting team list, they are the league leaders and have six substitutes named. The home side are a little more reticent. It turns out this is because they are still waiting on players to turn up.

I had a clear idea of who was going to win the game before it started. It is a league with six teams, (and hence only ten matches), seven rounds had been completed before I arrived, Phuentsholing had lost all seven and conceded 57 goals to date. The visitors, Transport United had drawn the opening game of the season with Thimpu United 0-0, and then won all six of their games since.

The second goal, scored by Kencho Tobgay, (who also got the first)

I eventually get to talk to Hishey Tshering, who is both sponsor and coach of Phuentsholing City. Apparently, some of the players had got stuck by an accident on the road from Thimpu (he said they were five short). I am given a list of 12 names, but when the game started, there was only ten on the field. Except the coach, there was never anyone else on the bench, so all of the players stayed on field for 90 minutes, playing in a 5-2-2 formation, and somewhat inadequate.

I got more information when I visited the FA offices. In areas such as Phuentsholing there is no preliminary competition, although they do organise some local competitions. In the main city, the Thimpu league is played earlier in the year with the top three going into the National League. I suspect that if all eight (including Tertons who had lost all 14 games) joined the National League, they would all finish ahead of Phuentsholing. Anyway, players from the five city teams that do not make it to the National League are only allowed to register for the teams outside the city. The three who qualify cannot increase their strength by signing the best of the rest.

Wangdi scored Transport United’s second penalty of the game, bringing the scoreline to double figures

While most of the City League players therefore do not play in the National League, Paro and Phuentsholing each have a few. I am not sure about Uygen Academy, which is also the most competitive of the non-Thimpu sides.


It would appear to be the players from Thimpu who had not arrived for the game. Whether this was really by design or accident is something I cannot say, and I guess now is a moot point.

It took 14 minutes for Transport United to score the first goal, and with that, the floodgates were opened. By half time it was 7-0 with Kencho Tobgay scoring a hat-trick. Tobgay completed a second hat-trick in the second half, while Dawa Tschering also scored three. Half time substitutes Sontosh and Wangdi both got onto the scoresheet, while Kingal Gyeltschen and an own goal added in to give a total of 13 away goals.

I did an estimated head count, and came up with 270. Naturally the numbers ebbed and flowed a little with it being free admission, and many did not stay until the end, more because it started to rain than because of the football on offer.

Hishey Tshering mentioned that his business was a karaoke bar in town, and I suggested to my guide that maybe I would find it for a drink later. He was very quick to advise me against this. In Paro, there was no where I could head to from the hotel, and in Thimpu he was happy to let me wander out on my own, but clearly here he felt that I was best off not doing so. How much this was to do with actual safety, and how much to do with the reputation of the bars in question is open to interpretation. The impression I get is that the much of the business done here is not selling beer.

As it happened, I never found out which bar was run by the club manager, and stayed in my hotel anyway. My guide and the driver did not stay in the hotel with me, but went to cheaper digs across the road, and later told me that they spent the evening on the Indian side of the gate.

ATW90. Cambodia

Tuesday, September 12th, 2017

This is the second in a series of posts I am making, which will be extended to create a book, Around the World in 90 Minutes.

Please send any comments or inaccuracies to

For future posts, where I am going, follow me on, twitter @leohoenig and Instagram @hoenigleo

Bangkok may be frenetic, but it is an oasis of calm compared to the first visions that a visitor to Phnom Penh receives. I have had the sense to be met at the airport, by a reasonably priced hotel car. It gives me a final hour of air-conditioned comfort as it waits, stuck in traffic.

My hotel room is small, but not bad, I would have appreciated it if the air conditioner there was a little more effective. It is about a 30-minute walk to the stadium, so once I have freshened up, I decide to make my way there. I quickly lose count of the number of tuk-tuks and moto taxis that ask for my custom, but it must have exceeded 100. All the way along the road, even the major roads, the pavements were blocked by shops spreading their wares out, or by parking the mopeds that are the preferred form of transport for all that can afford them. Hence any pedestrian is forced out onto the road.

Close to the stadium, there is a rush of tuk-tuks, mopeds and cars as the lights change

It takes a while to realise why no one cares, there are almost no pedestrians at all here. There is hardly anyone who cannot travel using the transport available. Moto taxis, by the way actually mean riding pillion on the back of a moped, without a helmet, and with a good chance of a (low speed) collision at every junction, so tuk-tuks are my preference.

Over the few days in Phnom Penh, I find some of the rules of the road, such as at traffic junctions with crossing signals, the green man means that generally vehicles will only come at you from one direction, and even they will try to miss you. Still, you never get to the point where a tuk-tuk driver believes that a foreigner should be walking. The normally approach you in the few yards between exiting the previous tuk-tuk and entering the building that was your destination. And naturally if they have just seen you walk past and refuse the approach of one driver, they have no reason to suspect that you might say the same to them.

Finding the offices of the Football Federation at the stadium, they tell me to come back later in the afternoon to collect accreditation. I use the time wisely, walking again as far as a craft brewery that has a good location between stadium and hotel. After trying their beers, which both good and varied, the smoky porter being the best of the batch, I continued my walk and got back to the hotel.

I can never be sure of press accreditation, and I notice as I pass the window that all category one tickets have been sold out. Category 2 tickets are on sale for 5000 Riels. Most transactions in Cambodia take place in US dollars, but they use the local currency for small change. While there is a variable rate of exchange, the “on the street” value is always the convenient 4000 Riels = 1 US Dollar. Hence I handed over $2 and was given 3000 Riels change, plus this

I reckon that’s 97p in English money, and as it turns out, I get the accreditation anyway, and tickets were available on the day.

The match is played at the Olympic Stadium, which despite the name was built for the 1963 South East Asian games. These games were never held due to the political situation at the time.

The stadium is a fine old bowl in true communist style.

One major side, and a giant sweeping curve of concrete seats around almost the whole of the rest.

Officially, the stadium can hold 55,000 – with no handrail or crush barrier in sight, it would not hold 5,000 in line with safety standards in Europe.

One enters from a low level, and getting in on matchday involves entering through narrow pathways caused by temporary wheeled fencing tied into place. You then have to jump over the joins between the fences. I saw no way for someone who was not relatively capable to get in, and no wheelchair access.

Way in?

From this point, you climb a steep staircase, which leaves you at the top level above all the seats. You can walk around the stadium at this height, and there is a level patio area running back from the seats opposite the main stand, with many food stalls open.

While most of the other large countries within South East Asia have held the games on multiple occasions, Cambodia, having missed out in 1963 still have not staged the event. They have now been given the rights to stage in 2023.

However, this old stadium will not be used then, as the building of a new facility to the north of the city has already started. Parts of the edges of the site, (not the stadium itself) have been developed as condominiums in order to fund a refurbishment about ten years ago. No one knows how much of the stadium will survive once the new facilities are open, but it is popular locally, as a quiet space in the centre of the city.

It does not take long for the game to spring to life, in the fourth minute, Vietnam score a goal of stunning simplicity, that makes you wonder if Cambodia are going to suffer a very heavy defeat. It was a chested knock down, and then a straight low shot by Nguyen van Quyet from outside the box. Most of the visiting support if just below me to the right, and they light up red flares and smoke bombs as they celebrate the opening goal.

It appears that Vietnam have three centre halves and no full or wing backs. This gives Cambodia an invitation to attack, they push at the three defenders and force a corner. The corner is cleared following a long punch from the keeper, Vietnam race in to attack, four against three, but lose possession and the non-existent defender is easily passed, the ball moved to Chan Vathanaka on the other side, and Cambodia level at 1-1. Now it is the Cambodian supporters that are standing, waving the clappers that have been given away free on the gates as they go.

For Vathanaka, it is a relief to be properly on the pitch. Earlier on the season, he transferred on loan to Fujieda in the Japanese 3rd Division, but since has not started a game.

It transpires that Vietnam are playing 4-4-2, but that not all the players are aware of this. It only takes 17 minutes for Vietnam to decide to change the right back for someone who might actually play right back. The player going off develops a limp as he exits the field but had showed no earlier sign of distress.

The early play, when both on and off the field, the action was as frenetic as the local traffic settles down a bit, and Vietnam look the more comfortable on the worryingly unevenly coloured synthetic surface. On 19 minutes, a free kick from square position by Vietnam’s Vu Minh Tuan bounces off the bar. Cambodia can still cause problems, even if the decision to actually have someone at right-back has settled the visiting defence. Just before half time, Vathanaka gets a clear header which he places over the bar, and as a result we reach the half way mark at 1-1.

The stadium is much fuller than I would have expected. I was aware that all the category 1 seats in the main stand had been sold, but I am surprised by the numbers sitting opposite, the crowd is thinner behind the goals, but clearly, there is support for the live game here. I can see a phalanx of insect life attracted by the lighting at the top of the stand, and also a few small bats taking delight in the free meal so provided.

The second half was much quieter, interrupted as they all are by substitutions and injuries. Still, Vietnam were gradually taking control, Cambodia were finding it difficult to get across the half way line without losing possession, while Vietnam could get close to the penalty area. An annoying penchant to fire the ball into the area from distance meant most attacks were cleared with ease.

Maybe this was a deliberate ploy, Cambodia were getting used to long balls being fired in, and being able to clear them with ease, but with about ten minutes to play, the ball was crossed from closer to the bye line, and Vietnam’s substitute attacker Nguyen Quang Hai was left unmarked to put them ahead.

Cambodia did get back on the attack now, but a dive in the box, ignored by the ref, and a clear offside were their closest options. Still there was enough hope that the board for six minutes injury time was greeted with a cheer. It turned out to be a vain hope as Vietnam had the only clear chance in the period.

A Vietnam attack late in the game

I turn up at the press conference, mainly because I wanted to try and corner the home officials. While I do this, they do not deliver on their promises to e-mail me in the morning. It was interesting to hear the home coach, Leonardo Vitorino bemoan that he just does not have good enough players to deliver results.

Vitorino is one of the legion of coaches that seems to traipse across the world, taking two year contracts with clubs or countries, and normally getting sacked after one or less. Looking at his list of clubs on Wikipedia, it seems shorter than some, with more coaching jobs rather than the top managerial position. He seems to be resigned to the fact he will get his marching orders either as a result of Cambodia’s non-qualification for the 2019 Asian Cup, or due to poor results in the 2018 AFF (ASEAN Football Federation) Cup.

The central market provides a cool oasis of calm in Phnom Penh

Before I go to the FFC offices again on the Wednesday, I take the walk up to the Army stadium, which appears to be one of the major venues in the Cambodian League at the moment, four or five teams regularly playing there. It is a walk that takes me through the central market and past one of the best temples (Wats) in the city. These provide a respite from the blaring horns and tuk tuks. I also stop at a small local café for an iced coffee and to see some of the previous night’s Uzbekistan v South Korea World Cup qualifier. It appears that any time of day or night in Cambodia, you can pass a café with a TV showing some type of game. The cable channels replay the last series of live games over and over again until there is something new to show

The lack of grass across the centre of the pitch testifies to its over use. There are four people in the office, when the only apparent task is selling replica Army FC kit. I am there for about 20 minutes, and they sell four, which I thought was a good throughput. The largest size was L, so I did not buy my own.

They had a list of fixtures to be played for the rest of the season at the stadium, but no reference to the full list of matches and venues in the league.

When I return to the National Stadium, and the FFC offices, this list is now available. As far as official comments were concerned, it was clear the staff in the offices would not say anything but refer to their chiefs, who were somewhere outside the country.

On a roundabout close to the Army stadium is the “Tied Gun” monument. A slightly odd demand for peace? As a response it appears that while the government still considers it OK to lock up the opposition, they are not subject of arbitrary death sentences.


However, once you start talking football to people, they soon want to tell you what is going on. So, I managed to ascertain that the Cambodian Football League is semi-professional at the moment – the players may be paid for football, but many have other jobs as well.

The FFC is trying to persuade some clubs to nominate venues away from Phnom Penh for their matches. This has actually been quite successful, even if only about three venues are currently in use. These are in Svay Rieng and Kirivong for teams which include the location in their name, and Siam Reap for Cambodia Tiger. In Phnom Penh itself, there are four stadiums in use, National, Army, Western and RSN.

The matches played outside the capital are reported to attract relatively large crowds, in the thousands, as opposed to hundreds.

However, apparently all the teams are still Phnom Penh based and train in the capital. They then bus out to the designated city for matches. This is where the FFC sees its next priority, it wants the clubs to not just adopt a “home stadium” as they have now done, but to set up bases outside the city. They can take on youth development work in the areas. Currently, there is no localised coaching schemes outside the capital, and players only have whatever coaching is taught in the schools.

My final thought from the capital, while wandering back to the hotel, is three policewomen sharing a motorbike. I assume they were on the look-out for motorcyclists breaking the law by riding without a crash helmet. After I took the picture, they did a u-turn and headed the wrong way down a one-way street


ATW90. Thailand Part 1.

Tuesday, September 5th, 2017

This is the first in a series of posts I am making, which will be extended to create a book, Around the World in 90 Minutes.

Please send any comments or inaccuracies to

For future posts, where I am going, follow me on, twitter @leohoenig and Instagram @hoenigleo

For the foreigner arriving from Europe, heat and humidity is the first problem, so I pushed myself into acclimatisation with a walk to the FA offices at the stadium to confirm my accreditation. It was a full hour’s walk, although I was expecting less. I then walked part way back to the hotel, finally giving in to the desire to take a taxi after taking a few pictures of the local temple.

Later, with a heavier bag, I did take a taxi back through the traffic to the stadium. The lengthy jams appear to be part of traffic chaos, but it is relatively organised, except the mopeds and bikes that weave their precarious route through the queues. At most junctions, traffic entering from each direction is given free reign, but then the red lights show for a long time as the other directions get their turn. Many have a timer showing the countdown to the lights change, and the lights are obeyed, although drivers will put their foot down to beat the countdown.

The Rajamangala is a big bowl of a stadium, with the stands quite low behind the goals, where ugly concrete blocks sections for the scoreboard and to hold the flame (from the 1988 Asian games). The stands rise to the centre and really appear to jut out into the night sky.

The Thai football team, as a display of respect for the King’s passing, play in a black kit.

Despite being bottom of the group, with World Cup elimination already confirmed, there is a fair and noisy crowd supporting Thailand. Separate singing sections at each end of the ground, with a smaller one in the middle of the uncovered side, means the noise resounds around the stadium, reaching a crescendo for each Thailand attack. We see a few of these in the first half, as Thailand look the stronger, Teerasil Danga forces a couple of good early saves from Kassid in the visitors’ goal, and later a couple of free kicks come close. But it is Iraq that take the lead, a ball down the right, which is pulled back rather than crossed, leaving Justin Azeez in space. The American born (both parents from Iraq) player shoots for his first national team goal in three years – or to put it clearer, his last since the last time time Iraq visited Thailand.

That match, also part of this World Cup qualifying campaign finished 2-2, while my first even visit to the stadium (in 2007) saw the same two teams share a 1-1 draw. The goal against ten minutes before the break is not enough to quieten the home fans, but it does seem to affect the team badly.

Thailand came out strongly for the second half, but did not get the early breakthrough they were looking for. Again they were making most of the attacking moves, but there is a question over which passes they elect to try – especially when close to the goal, they seem to believe they can play through the blocking player, when there routes to go round.

Thailand equalised with a bit of good fortune. An attempt to clear the ball was charged down on the left, and the ball passed to substitute Tristan Do on the right. His shot is off target, but takes a massive deflection off Ahmed Ibrahim.

The Thai support cheer every player going off for a substitution, and they even give a round of applause as Thitiphan Puangchan trudges off after received his second yellow card, meaning his team faces the last 18 minutes with ten men.

They have a lesser opinion of their opponents, and do try to affect the referee into evening up the numbers, but he has other thoughts, and no protest on or off the field stops him awarding a penalty, from which Saad puts Iraq 2-1 up.

A little bit of gamesmanship creeps in, as Thailand made a substitution to delay the penalty, while Iraq followed suit when Theerathon was waiting to take a free kick. The difference being the penalty was scored, the free kick which needed to be cross drifted into the keeper’s reach.

Iraq end up 2-1 winners, which means Thailand will finish bottom of the group.

Despite losing, the Thai team make a slow lap around the pitch at the end of the game, stopping to receive appreciation from each of the singing groups. It is quite something to see a group of fans singing something in Thai, to the tune of Rod Stewart’s “Sailing” with their scarves raised, with the team waiting several minutes for the song to complete, and then going to see other sections

The crowd is 22604, which shows a vast improvement on ten years ago, when only 12000 watched the same two teams in the Asian Cup opener, my other visits in that cup were neutral matches with quite poor crowds.

When I read about the match in the paper, there is a lot of talk about the team showing improvement. The cynic in me immediately thinks that it is easy to improve if your base is low enough, and anyway they have to say this, early in the reign of a new coach. The much-travelled Serbian coach, Milan Rajevac took over in April

I wondered a little about the state of Thai football, so before the game I had a short talk with Patit Suphaphong, the Deputy General Secretary of the FA of Thailand. I asked about the obvious disappointment to the administration, that while Thailand has installed a successful professional football league in recent years, this is not reflected in the FIFA rankings. Naturally, a little defensive on this, Suphaphong said this administration has only been installed for a short time, and they are planning to make sure the National team gets good fixtures to improve the rankings, and they are planning ahead. “We have to accept that in the past, the planning was not done properly, so that is why the ranking went down. I think with the new administration and with good planning, we have a lot of major tournaments in the next few years like Asian, I think that will help us”. I questioned the Asian Cup record, “This is the biggest tournament in the next three years”. South East Asia comes first, but is clearly not thought of as priority, (Thailand are the holders). “South East Asia, we cannot be callous, we will retain our quality, retain out championship, but we are aiming for Continental status at the Asian cup”

I asked if it would help the team if more of its players could play in other countries. Of the current starting XI, only one (Channathip) is currently playing outside of Thailand, having recently joined J-League side Consadole Sapporo on loan. The captain, Teerasil Dangda is the only other one to have experience abroad. He is one of three Thai players that Shinawatra took to Manchester City when he became owner. As they could not get work permits to play in England, they were shifted out, and Teerasil managed a few games in Switzerland for Grasshoppers’ second team. He also spent half a season with Almeria in La Liga, (the last time they were in the top flight).

Suphaphong said “we are trying to give the best option to all the players, we encourage them to go abroad, to make sure they come back with the best experience”. He agreed that the success of the Thai National League works against this. The players can earn a good wage without travelling, so the desire to move abroad is not there.

Leaving the stadium, I find a lack of taxis for hire, and tuk tuks are not to be seen in this part of the city. Hence, I take the risk and board a bus. On board, a fellow passenger helps by asking the driver if the drives all the way down the road to my hotel. My original thought was to hope it went much of the way, allowing me to find taxi or walk. As it was, with help, I got to the bus stop close to my hotel.

From Bangkok, I make my way to Trat for a Saturday match, with my half way stop in Rayong, also my destination for a game on my return. I feel happy enough to drive outside the city, and the full route I am to take is either dual carriageway or toll motorway. Only in the towns does one have to worry much about the other vehicles.

When I visited Thailand on business in the early nineties, the league was not organised as such and instead there was a series of tournaments, one of which was considered to be the Thai Championship. Some of these, including the championship one were played between club sides. The major tournaments were all played over a period of around two weeks, using the old National stadium.

Others were played between Provincial teams, and while the finals of these tournaments would be held in major cities (mainly Bangkok), they could have qualification games in regional centres. I think I only found out about the one in Rayong because the field it was played on was on the route between the factory and a small resort we stayed in on that first trip.

Still, my choice of matches was heavily influenced by having seen Rayong play Trat in my first ever match in Thailand, back in January 1990. I only got to the old National stadium a month later, for the annual King’s Cup – an invitational international tournament

Trat is considered to be the border town closest to Cambodia – but it is still nearly 100 km from the border. It is a smallish town, with several rather splendid temples, and some interesting street lights, which reminded me of Liver Birds.

The ground is about a mile out of town. It would be difficult to find public transport as the open mini trucks that serve the locality have no signs, and few speak English, so explaining where you want to go is difficult.

The ground is straight forward, a tarmac track, with stands on each side. The home support seems to select the far side, while the small group of visiting fans were caged at one end of the main stand. Both groups of supporters did their best to keep up a chant throughout. The players did their best to keep them quiet. The Songkhla supporters said they had driven from Bangkok, (about 4 hours) which seems more plausible than travelling from Songkhla province in the South of the country, which would take around 18 hours. This fitted in with something I had seen many years back when watch Persija (a Jakarta team) play one from Aceh, from the furthest away tip of Sumatra. Groups of people who have come to the capital for the improved job opportunities look for the chance to gather as a community, and the local football team playing a match provides such an excuse. I would think this section of Songkhla support see their team frequently, as the Thai second division is biased towards Bangkok area teams.

Songkhla supporters get their voices ready before the game

Songkhla have a curious football heritage, having moved from Buriram in the North East of the country after the controversial politician who runs the club now known as Buriram United moved them out of the capital and into is political heartland. It appears that the owner of Songkhla (then known as Buriram FC) did not object. But then she was (and is) married to the owner of Buriram United. By road, Buriram to Songkhla is 1356 km.

The Foreign contingents play an important part in professional football in Thailand. Although the salaries appear well enough to prevent many Thai players becoming foreigners elsewhere, the foreigners still get the bulk of the budget, and are expected to perform to match. There are two categories of foreigner. Asian or Foreign. Asian means a player who comes from a country which is affiliated to the Asian Football Confederation (and hence includes Australia, but not Kazakhstan or Israel), Foreign means a non-Thai player from anywhere else. I am told the rule is 3 Foreign + 1 Asian + 1 ASEAN. ASEAN means the Association of South East Asian Nations, which consists of ten countries, including Thailand. Naturally, you can play an extra Asian in the place of one of the true foreigners, and an extra ASEAN in place of any type of foreign, having said that, the list on Wikipedia only shows four ASEAN players in the division, and three of these are from further afield but have gained an ASEAN passport. I note that Kelsey Alves is in the list, a Brazilian who I saw play in Vietnam ten years ago, now having a Vietnamese passport

Unlike some countries, not only can you sign more foreign players than are allowed to play at any one time, but also you can start with a full contingent and keep a foreign player on the bench as well, only bringing him on after another player has been substituted. I should have asked about red cards in this respect. Songkhla’s Japanese defender Hyun Whoo was not available in the game I saw, being suspended for his third red card of the season.

Trat go for Brazilian players, having two in the starting line-up, and another two on the bench, with their own Japanese defender, Yoon Siho playing throughout. Apart from the missing Whoo, Songkhla’s more cosmopolitan contingent of foreigners came from Georgia, Belize, Portugal and Spain, with the last of these starting on the bench

The game started slowly, and while it was clear Songkhla were playing as 4-1-4-1 with all the foreigners in the midfield 4, the home tactic was not so clear. In the end had it down as 4-2-3-1 with a Brazilian as forward, and another as left wide. It appeared that the preferred tactic was to attack down this left wide channel, but the first clear chance in the 16th minute was a cross from the other side. It took a good save to stop Felipe’s header. A few minutes later a move down the left resulted in a hurried clearance.

By this time, the visitors appeared to have lost the midfield battle, and could not get approach the home back four with anything other than a single player, the overall pace of the game slow, interrupted by players going down and demanding treatment, and with passages of play.

The main group of home fans were in the centre of the stand opposite to the main one. They were almost uniformly kitted out in the same dark shirts, and had a continuous drum beat, with claps and chanting. The away fans, who I had seen in the car park and had apparently travelled from Bangkok in two mini-buses were kept in a secure corner at the end of the main stand. A small group from each side, with flag bearers were introduced from the field at half time.

The home side took the lead in the first minute after the break, the ball running down the right side of the field, allowing Tardelli to come in from the other side and glance in a header from a central position.

At the end of the game, we see the ritual, each set of players went to receive applause and show appreciation to both sets of supporters, their rivals first and then their own, who would sing at this point. I could not hear Songkhla’s song, but Trat were singing to the tune of “Over the Rainbow”.

The following afternoon, I retrace my steps as far as Rayong. Seeing as I had seen signs and supporters of Trat in the town before the game, but no signs in Rayong on the Friday, I head back to the town centre, after a brief pause to spot a small temple amongst the houses. However, I draw a blank here, there is nothing to show that there will be not one, but two football games in the evening around the city.

The area around the Rayong Provincial stadium turns out to be the same area as I saw a game in 1990. At that time, there was very little development around here, while now the city has grown, and development continues right up to the stadium. The small beach resort I had stayed in has been replaced by new resorts, and there are now rows of small bars and restaurants right along the beach.

There are at least plenty of supporters milling around outside the stadium. I spy three nice young ladies with my name on their T-shirts and get a photo with them. In Thailand, I share my name with a very moderate lager.

The open space, on which a marquee erected for the occasion was the only facilities, has been built up into a modern sports complex. The first parts of the construction would have started soon after my last visit to the area. I believe the old pitch is now under a sports hall, while there is also a swimming pool, with a stand for spectators and the main stadium. The track was laid in the mid-90s and looks as if it has not been renewed since. The stands have been updated, with a new covered stand on the west side being only a few years old, while the open seats to the East have been extended at both ends.

Almost all the spectators had to sit on concrete seating, but I managed to grab a real seat and move it to the press bench. I can easily walk in free, but at 100 baht, (£2.50), I consider that buying a ticket is a requirement.

Rayong are a mid-table club, a few places in the table below. Again, you know the foreign players will be influential, and I think the fact that visiting Air Force Central had more and better foreigners was the deciding factor. For Rayong, the pick of the foreigners was Seiya Sugushita from Japan, while they also started Harrison Cardoso (Brazil) and Ivan Boskovic (Montenegro), they had a Cameroonian on the bench, but he had no influence on the game when he appeared. Air Force named two Japanese players, along with Bruno Cesar (Brazil) and Aleks Kapisoda (Croatia) – all starting, with no extras on the bench.

Air Force make a dominant start, with Bruno Cesar dominating the defenders, out muscling them and hitting the post early, only just failing to get a good contact with the rebound. This persuades Rayong to keep their defenders on him, and the overlook Kayne Vincent on the left wing, who ghosts in to give Air Force a lead in the 15th minute. Ten minutes later, it is 2-0, and this time Bruno is the scorer. Rayong are not out of it though, and a few minutes later we see the skills of the blond haired Japanese Seiya Sugishita as he flicks the ball and goes around his defender, and places a perfect ball for Anuchit to balloon over the bar. A few minutes later, another chance as a header from Nirut is well saved.

Once Rayong have possession though, they push upfield and every ball out of defence was a threat, they could easily have scored a third before half time, but again the finishing shot was very amiss. The art of hitting the volley high into the night sky is alive and well in Thai football.

Fan clubs of Rayong (above) and Air Force

After the first few attacking moves of the second half by Air Force look threatening, it is Rayong who pull a goal back, hitting in from wide right, a goal which will have embarrassed the visiting keeper, who really should have been able to gather it as it flashed past in front of him

As the game moved on, we again got more time-wasting tactics with lengthy injury breaks, and officials that were not quick to act to keep a flow, and only a cursory additional minute added for at least five lost. Even the match commissioner, who left his glass box and placed a seat close to mine appears to agree.

Two minutes into injury time, and Rayong think they have an equaliser. A shot from around 30 yards hits the underside of the bar and down to the ground before bouncing outwards. As it comes away, the nearest player is appealing for the goal, and forgetting that all he has to do is get his head to the ball before the defender to put the issue beyond doubt, and the ball is cleared for a corner.

The match commissioner, runs back to his box to watch the replay. I try to follow, but that is not allowed. He comes out and affirms that the referee is correct, and it did not go in.

One of Rayong’s Farang supports, Karddin Kent has introduced me to the CEO of Rayong, Adul – and at the end of the game he is watching the replay on his mobile phone, convinced it is a score and that the linesman should have seen it. I tend to agree with the first point, but not the second.


China Easter 3. Beijing

Tuesday, May 16th, 2017

The third game of my China trip was relatively straight forward. I spent the morning walking around Nanjing. Far too little time to do the city justice.

One day, someone will explain to me. Why do the roofs of Chinese Buddhist have a cavalcade of animals, always led by a man riding a chicken?

After that, it was the return journey back to Beijing, with the train again running late, but not so badly as the outward trip.

I had then spent about an hour navigating the metro to Olympic Sports Centre station

Alighting through the wrong exit (for my purpose), I was presented with a wide pedestrian avenue leading to the main Olympic sites from 2008, with the famous “Bird’s Nest” stadium to the right, had I gone through the security gates and paid the admission charge required to walk around. The Avenue runs along a continuation of the centre line of the forbidden city and Tiananmen Square. My destination was behind me to my right, and even though this meant crossing a major road, it was not difficult to find the way in.

I managed to find my way into the West side, but most home fans were on the far side.

Before reaching the ground, as I had a Chinese friend guiding me, (even though he was not coming into the game), we bought a ticket from a “scalper”. The ticket did not show a price, but at 40 RMB, it was 10 RMB less that the face value at the ticket office. I was later told I was ripped off, and that I should have only paid about 30 RMB. Ticket scalping is a way of life in China, with the touts selling off the many unused complimentary tickets on offer. Apparently one should always pay less than the entrance price. I am told that this is the only way to get into the Workers’ stadium for Gou’an matches, unless you buy off the internet, as there is no ticket office at the stadium

Meanwhile the visitors had their own section at one end.

The stadium I headed to is apparently called Olympic Sports Centre, and is actually the main stadium built for the 1990 Asian games. The best word to describe it would be “functional”. It is a simple bowl of a stadium with two tiers of seats along the sides, one behind each goal. The Asian games were held shortly before my first ever visit to China, and the signs of the changes in the country in the 27 years since are clear for all to see. For 1990, functional was the only way to build a stadium, no bells, whistles, and nothing spectacular. Less than half a mile way sits the “Bird’s Nest”. This and the stadium in Nanjing, along with a large portion of the new buildings in China are not merely functional, they also have the “wow factor”, curves, arches or intricate designs to make them stand out from the crowd.

Even more than the Super League match the night before, this game was a matter of passing to the foreigner and let them run with the ball. And therein lay the rub, which decided the game.

Beijing Renhe, the visitors started with three foreigners on the field, Ivo is a Brazilian who has been plying his trade in Asia for five years, firstly in Korea, and then in the China Super League before dropping a level. The Ecuadorian Jaime Ayovi has spent most of his time in Mexico, and has only switched to China this season. Ayub Masika is also new to China, he is Kenyan, but has been in Belgium since he was 13, and has played for Genk and Lierse in the top division there. By contrast, the home side started with just one foreign player, Cheick Tiote who is better known in Britain, having played 138 times for Newcastle United. It is not that they could not have fielded more, they also had Rubin Okotie – born in Pakistan with parents from Austria and Nigeria. Okotie is an Austrian international who has played in both Austrian and German Bundesliga. Okotie was on the bench. Their third foreigner was the Nigerian Leke James, who was playing in Norway before moving to China, but he was not in the day’s squad. They also had two Taiwanese players in the squad list, with one, Chen Hao Wei, an international for Taiwan on the bench. Under Chinese rules, players from Taiwan or the Special Administrative zones of Hong Kong and Macau who signed before a certain date are not counted towards the foreign players count, although new signings from these territories will.

Ayovi was to score the first and last goals in the 4-0 away win, Ivo also was on the score sheet and Masika almost was as well. However his shot was blocked by the home keeper and bounced out allowing Shi Lian an easy stab into the net. The Renhe tactic was simple, with the two forwards being foreigners, and Masika on the right wing, they would boot the ball as close as they could get, and then let the trio play the ball amongst themselves. Beijing BG brought on Okotie at half time, and Chen Hao Wei midway through the second half. This made a difference, as in the last 20 minutes, they played some decent football and certainly were good enough now to stop the visitors from increasing the damage.

During the second half, I was talking to a New Zealand/British expatriate, who has been in China for some time, watching football there and in neighbouring countries. It was from him that I was explained the dealings with the scalpers. He also explained a little about the running of Chinese football. While the observations may differ from those that a Chinese official may give, one cannot help but believe that they have a ring of truth behind them. Firstly, consider the math. I was in Nanjing for the Jiangsu game, and the crowd was 30053. Ticket prices were between 100 and 200 RMB, so if we assumed everyone paid, (and we know that is not the case), then maybe the income from ticket sales was 150*30,000 = 4,500,000 RMB. Multiple it by 15 home games per season and we get to 67,500,000 RMB – less than £7 million. None of the clubs are taken much more from each game, the TV deals are not adding the sort of sums we see in the UK, and so the transfer fees and wages paid far exceed the incomes.

Looking up – the players cluster in the area as the corner flies over everyone’s head

Reports such as this one, [url][/url] indicate just how far the wages and transfer fees in Chinese football are slewed towards a few (almost all foreign players). In China, politics is everywhere, the big companies that are putting the money into the Chinese football clubs to pay to bring these foreign stars into the game are not doing so because it is fashionable, or because their owners just love football. They are doing it because the politicians that run the country currently think that football will be good for the country, and in return for supporting this aim, they will get their rewards. The buying into European football, another small dent in China’s massive budget surplus is also not just the play things of rich men, but backed by government policy. Only the slightly strange choice to buy into Midlands football, as opposed to other regions cannot be explained in this way.

President Xi has announced the football policy, that China should be capable of winning the World Cup by 2050. With no elections, China can afford to take the long-term approach, but patience will run out if they do not show improvement soon. It is easy to imagine that China will be bidding to stage the World Cup in 2030 or 2034, and they will expect to make a much better fist of it than the three defeats that they suffered in South Korea, their only appearance at the finals to date.

However, one does wonder about the logic they are employing. By all means, bring the stars into the Super League, get some publicity and raise the game at home. But China is a big country – the 16 Super League teams represent only 13 cities, and national TV coverage is limited. There is little publicity even for the second division, while the third level remains completely anonymous. China is a mobile phone happy country, with the (permitted) social media and internet news now far outstripping print media, but searches for lower division and amateur football, even using Chinese search engines provides little information. The level of football and fitness at Haikou was very poor for what purports to be a professional football team. If China is to up its game, it needs to overhaul its structure. Chinese footballers in China may earn only a little, compared to the foreigners, but it is still enough to keep them in China, rather than searching for opportunities further afield. Only one of the current international squad plays outwith the country’s borders.

It is a problem that China may well find it has in common with England, too much emphasis given to the elite squads, and enough cash to stop them expanding their horizons further afield, while the rest of the game is allowed to whither, (well, in China’s case, it has never grown in the first place). China needs a football coaching structure that extends to every province and city, to make sure that the talent is not lost. A more modest investment to bring in coaches from countries that do this well, (Germany and the Netherlands spring to mind), and greater emphasis on the whole game would in the long term boost the country’s talents, so as I could believe that they will not only

China Easter 2. Nanjing

Monday, May 8th, 2017

From Hainan Island, I travelled up to Beijing. The flight up was a nightmare with a four-hour delay, and a serious lack of information at any time as to causes of the delay and when the flight would actually depart. At the airport, there were continual announcements that this flight and that would not meet its departure time, but without reasoning or new times. My wife has a house quite close to the airport, and by the time we arrived there, the first light of morning was already coming through. Having discovered that my wife did not need my help on a business meeting, I suggested I could travel to a Friday game in the China Super League before heading back on the Saturday for a Beijing derby in League One.

For this one, the train tickets were booked by internet, 24 hours in advance. This allowed me to get a First-class ticket – all second-class tickets having sold out, at least I got the standard price (around £30 less) for the return. At the station, I still had to queue 20 minutes for the ticket, but the process was relatively simple then – I showed my reservation number and passport and they printed a ticket. When I asked for the return as well, I was charged 5 Yuan (50p) for this service, but again completed without problem. The train had an appearance to Japanese bullet trains, and soon reached 300 km/h. Inside, it looked and felt little different from any European fast train, and the similarities continued when we soon had a thirty-minute delay, with a serious shortage of announcements (in any language) as to why, or for how long. I later discovered that the problem had been a complete power failure for lines around the city of Tianjin, so it turned out that I was quite lucky to get to my destination at all. I am also told, (by ex-pats in China), that these occurrences are actually quite rare, and the fast rail network in China is normally more reliable than the British rail system


On other sections, we appeared to go quite slowly, and ended up with arriving at Nanjing 70 minutes behind schedule, which was a problem for my plans. I was intending to go to check into my hotel first, and then to arrive at the ground anything up to an hour before kick-off. Instead, I had to get a taxi to the ground directly just to make it within 30 minutes of the start. Fortunately, the good offices of my wife had made contact, to find an English-speaking official who met me and saw me into the ground. I did not pass any of the ticket sales points between leaving the taxi and entering the ground, so without this help, I may have struggled to enter before the start.

The stadium looks spectacular from the outside, thanks to two red arches, which lean back at 45o painted in bright red, which just accentuates the effect. It is the centre of a sports park, including an arena, swimming pool and tennis centre. It staged the Chinese National games in 2005 and the youth Olympics of 2014. Inside, we have a fairly standard stadium with a track, and two tiers of seats all the way around. On both sides, there is a third tier, which increases in height towards the centre. However, the forward section of the lowest tier has only a low rake, with the front row barely above pitch height. Add in the track and the benches, and the views are quite restricted, especially on the west side of the ground. My recommendation to anyone else visiting the ground is to take seats on the East side, where at least there is nothing to block your viewing (and it is 50 Yuan less). From my position, it appeared that the rake on that side was greater, but this was probably an optical illusion, possible due to the much higher numbers of people standing over that side. The main section for the singing fans was in to the north of the East stand, although there was also a section behind the North goal. I noted that these used different styles of flags, perhaps a more independent group of fans, as the main section had flags that reflected (and were probably supplied by) the corporation running the club. Chants referred to both parts of the name, Jiangsu (which is the province) and Suning (the owners). On my side of the ground, there were six traditional large Chinese drums, which blocked the gangways and were used only sparingly. High up in the upper tier of the South East was a group of Guangzhou fans, outnumbered by the police and army who sat in the blocks between them and home fans.


Both sides fielded three foreigners from the start, although as it happened, both took one off at the break. The Chinese FA changed the rule for number of foreign players just ten days before the end of the pre-season transfer window, catching some clubs out. Some were in the process of negotiating further signings and suddenly found they were on the limit. Jiangsu have four foreign players on their books, but can only play three, with the Columbian international Roger Martinez as the man left out. They played Hong Jeong-Ho at the centre of defence, Hong is a Korean international who was playing for FC Augsburg in the Bundesliga when I watched them two years ago. In the midfield, they had ex-Chelsea player Ramires, who set a Chinese transfer record when he signed in January 2016. This record was broken twice in the following ten days, the second time to bring another Brazilian, Alex Teixeira to Jiangsu from Shakhtar Donetsk. Before Jiangsu signed Teixeira, he was reported to be a Liverpool target, but they shied away from the asking price.

For Guangzhou R&F, there are five foreign players in the squad, (if you have five, one must be from an Asian (meaning AFC, so including Australia) nation). You still can only play three, so the Korean Jang Hyun-Soo and the Brazilian Renatinho were not played. A second “Asian”, Apostolos Giannou was one of the forwards, Giannou was born in Greece, but qualified for Australia as his family emigrated there. It appears he has taken time to decide where his affiliations lay, as he played for Australia at under-17 level, and Greece at under-19 and under-21. Greece named him in squads a few times at full international level, and finally played him as a substitute in a Friendly in November 2015. Despite this, he could still transfer, and the following March he played for Australia in a World Cup qualification match. To date he has five caps for the Socceroos. In midfield, Guangzhou played Junior Urso, a Brazilian who had played in his native country until 2014 when he joined Shandong in China. He moved to Guangzhou this season. Finally, and most impressively, they have the Israeli, Eran Zahavi. Zahavi has played most of his football in Israel, appearing for both Maccabi and Hapoel in Tel Aviv. A short spell with Palermo in Italy was not a success. He moved to China last summer and impressed immediately, so much so that Shandong wanted to take him on, which would have been the biggest transfer fee ever paid for an Israeli.

Both teams played in a 3-5-2 formation, although they differed slightly in that Jianye Lui at centre midfield for Jiangsu was playing a holding role, while Junior Urso, in the same position was much further forward. Suning played in an all sky-blue kit, apart from a narrow dark blue strip on each side. R&F played in dark blue. Guangzhou were well on top in the opening exchanges, with the best chance falling to Zahavi who blasted the ball over the bar. Guangzhou seemed to playing the game of get the ball to the foreigners, while Jiangsu were using their home players better. The target for much of their play out of defence was left wing back Haiqing Cao. The tactic brought Jiangsu more into the game, and it appeared that Ramires, in midfield could be the key player. Mid-way through the half, they changed the attacking partner of Teixeira from Tianyi Gao to Xiang Ji. This appeared to be a popular move, and was listed in reports as a tactical substitution. If so, then I am not convinced by the tactic. One of the regulations introduced for this season is that every team must start the game with a (Chinese) Under-23 player. There is no rule that states how long he is on the field for – Tianyi Gao is an U-23 player, and he has started every game for Jiangsu this season, and been substituted in every game. At least he has averaged almost 45 minutes per game. Some of the young players have been removed from the field within ten minutes of the start. Other teams are more serious about giving (at least one) youngster a chance, for Guangzhou R&F, their young player was Huang Zhengyu who has played in all seven games this season, and not been substituted once.

Pre-match ritual.

The concourse at half time, looking as spick and span as any shopping mall.

Fans behind the goal used different flags to those at the side of the ground.

Good substitution or not, it was Jiangsu who scored first, with Haiqing Goa’s long ball finding Teixeira in space, running past the last defender and hitting the shot past the keeper. Inspired by this, Jiangsu were the better team for the rest of the period. We had a stoppage within injury time, when Hong Jeong-Ho was injured. He was replaced during the break and this would prove a crucial change. Also at the break, R&F made two changes, with the ineffective Junior Urso and left sided Tiaxiang Li being replaced by Zhizhao Chen and Zhi Xiao. For the visiting side, these changes had the required effect, with the midfield looking somewhat more mobile, while the home defence looked shaky without the Korean leader. Both teams were now playing the game of get the ball to the foreigner, but it is not the quality of the foreigners that was decisive, but the quality of the home-grown players. The home team were missing two many passes, or shooting when a pass was better with Haiqing Cao and Xiang Li both being regular culprits. By contrast, the visiting midfield were in control of the game, creating many chances for Giannou (who would surely have scored if he was less concerned with showboating and doing something spectacular), and the hard working Zahavi. It was Zahavi’s ability to find space and test the keeper with good shots from distance that proved crucial. He scored both goals from just outside the box, as his side turned over the half time score. Jiangsu were runners-up in both league and FA Cup last season (Guangzhou Evergrande won both, the Cup on away goals over two legs). However, this season they are in the bottom two without a win in six league games, while at the same time have won all four of the Asian Champions League encounters, (ring any bells, anyone). A local supporter put this down to the China Super League being a superior competition to the Champions League, but this is not so clearly evident in the other groups, (although all three in contention should go through)

Away fan section. With the riot squad seating comfortably between the away fans and any home areas

After the game, I found my hotel after some difficulty with the taxis, and later went out to what is known as the 1912 district. While having a degree of night life, and popular with locals, it does is not what is says on the can, evocative of the China of 1912. Instead it is a modern cluster of cafes and late night discos. There are plenty of options to eat, the best of which are almost certainly just outside the “zone”, where prices are lower and anything that has ever swan appears to be available. I just wanted a beer, and there are few options here, although I eventually stumbled on a bar which not only had a massive selection of imported beers, but could also offer a local craft beer.

In the morning, I tried out the local metro and went on a quick trip into the town. With only three hours at my disposal, I had intended to find the Confucian temple, but instead ended up in the pleasant surrounds of Egret Island. This is one of the confusions that can occur when touring without a map. I knew I was close to the temple, but despite signs and maps indicating its location, and it being quite a large complex, I never actually walked towards it. The area I was in is popular with locals, and is a more genuine slice of China, a place where people can take their caged birds out for a walk, or practise their morning Tai Chi exercises.