Football is the world game, the beautiful game. It is also the great uniter. Whether you are a poor black kid from Brazil or a rich oil tycoon from Russia, a young Japanese girl or a wife and mother from the US, the game connects people in a way that not even religion or politics can touch. If you can find him, just ask Osama bin Laden. He spent years supporting Arsenal, though I'm sure there's no link to his latter life.
Such a thing then is bound to attract supporters who actually live up to their tag as 'fanatics.' In Turkey, going to the game and knocking out a couple of chants isn't enough. You have to be a fundamental ingredient to what is happening on the pitch. Fans of Galatasaray welcome visitors to 'Hell" and give them an extra hot reception. The old cliché is that the fans can be a team's 12th player, but in Turkey this really does seem to be the case.
Last year Beşiktaş were crowned the champions of Turkey by virtue of being the best of a bad lot. With this they qualified for the European Champions League where memories of being on the receiving end of an 8-0 thrashing by Liverpool still linger. This year, they have the chance to redeem themselves and have found themselves pitted in the same group as 'my' team, Manchester United. As I now live in Istanbul I wanted to enjoy the unique atmosphere of a Turkish football crowd and I couldn't think of a better time than when United came to town.
Last night was the big game so I took Anna to her first live game proper. Coming from the other side of the Atlantic, she had avoided the snare of the sport and therefore missed out on what the fuss what about. Ever since the draw was made last month, I had encountered Beşiktaş supporters happy to engage in friendly banter. The tıme leading up to kick-off, though, was a different story. They put their 'game faces' on and got into the 'zone.' It really was as though they were preparing to go out onto the pitch themselves and take on the foes from England. İndeed, they even congregated for a `team-talk` near the stadium to discuss their tactics. They settled on a catchy "F**k You, Manchester" chant, which even got stuck in my head.
Once inside the stadium it became obvious that this was no ordinary set of fans. Officially Beşiktaş supporters are the loudest in the world with a record decibel level of 132 being set a few years previously. We had bought tickets amongst the home lot hoping to soak it all up, but I think I could have been in Ankara and still felt it. As the players lined up to start the game, the volume increased again and I have no idea how anyone could play and not be affected. For the entirety of the game, but for one notable exception, the fans kept it up and shouted themselves hoarse. It was only part way through that I noticed that the main stand had three young supporters who appeared to be leading the chants, raised on a platform. I discovered later that these were the 'Amigos,' die-hard fans who make sure no-one shirks their duties. As I said, they only stopped once and that was when the away team scored the winning goal towards the end of the match. The silence was perhaps more deafening than anything that had come before and I made sure to keep my celebrations internal.
Unfortunately, the game couldn't match the same heights and it won't be remembered for anything other than the result in the annuls of history. For me, however, this game will always stay in my mind for the atmosphere. It was electric.
