FA Cup Final, Wembley - May 2009

WOW it was 5.00 in the morning and I was sitting in a Dublin taxi on my way to the airport. I had been invited to attend this year's FA Cup final at Wembley stadium, on 30th of May 2009. Not the old Wembley of course, but the new one, the one that was opened in March 2007 - a few months delayed.

What's even more amazing was that Chelsea was playing in the final - the team I've supported for years - against a great team that has done really well in the FA Cup over the years, and that was Everton.

The New Wembley is absolutely amazing. What is even more amazing is that it is erected within what looks like a residential area, within London. How the local community could allow this I do not know, but there it is.

The Arch the has been build over the stadium rises over 140 meters from the ground. You can see it for miles - if it wasn't for the buildings surrounding it. But, as soon as you get off at the Wembley tube station, and goes out the front, it is directly in front of you. It is only when you start walking towards it that you realise how gigantic it is - it rises up as a towering (no, not inferno like the movie) structure, until you a small ant in front of the huge facade.

- Outside the Wembley main entrance is the bronze statue of the legend Bobby Moore.

Inside is just as spectacular. Fantastic service, easy to find your way around, huge class windows and friendly staff all over. One simply doesn't feel that you are in a place that can hold 80000 screaming supporters.

Now, this was not some standard ticket I had, but it was a VIP ticket, full day event.

Agenda for the day

11:45 Arrive at Wembley Stadium

12:00 Champagne reception in the Private Box

13:00 Three course lunch with fine wines.

15:00 Match Kick Off with complimentary bar throughout the game

15:45 Half-time refreshments

16:45 Post match refreshments

18:15 Club Wembley Closes

This is the only way to watch the FA Cup final live; beautiful dinner, free bar and your own seat just outside your booth.

The game was intense and Everton scored the fastest goal in FA Cup history, within 25 seconds. I have to admit, I was very nervous that Everton would actually beat the mighty Blues. But, that was all within the first minute. Thereafter it was all Chelsea - more or less. Everton tried a few times, but couldn't make anything of their chances.

Chelsea on the other hand wanted to thank Guus Hiddink for his achievement and went on to score twice; Lampard and Drogba.

Watching a game, in Wembley, along side 80000 screaming Everton and Chelsea supporters, is an experience that you simply can describe. You get carried away with the atmosphere and can't help but screaming, booing, closing your eyes and raising your arms of joy. The hairs on your arms rises when the fans sing and cheer their teams. When it is all over, you just stand there staring and smiling at the pitch, wondering what just happened.

Then you realise you just had an absolutely awesome (sorry!) experience that no one will fully understand, no matter how hard you try to explain it.

After the game, we had a few more drinks and then it was back to Dublin. I did this trip in the same day, flying out at 6.40 (at the airport at 5.00) and returning at 21.15 (back in my house at 23.30). It had been a really long day, but worth it.

My Sweet 5th Party - bling bling

Our daughter started school last year, 2008, which was a turning point in our lives as parents.  We were proud of passing this milestone, but also sad because it meant our little baby girl was growing up a lot faster than we wanted.  So, when our daughter turned 5, we wanted it to be a special day for her.  Not an MTV style "My Sweet 5th" birthday, but a party that she wanted, including theme, guests, music, food, etc.

We had to eliminate certain demands in the early planning stages, such as circus in the back garden, horses for everybody to ride on or a professional DJ, but most of her other wishes were accepted.

The theme of the party was princesses and princes (or knights). So, now we just had to agree on the guest list.  There were no need to argue with her about the guest list as she simply had to invite her entire class which is approx. 30 kids.  However, she also wanted to invite friends from her gym, drama and ballet classes, so now the guest list was getting close to 35 kids - ALL below the age of 6.

As they say in "Indiana Jones - Last Crusade", we chose unwisely.  Which sane person would invite 35 kids to their house for a 3 hour long party, which obviously included food and party games?  Well, we did!! 

The house was decorated with the theme of the party. We cooked the food and baked the cakes, cookies and muffins the day before. So, we were prepared - or were we?  All furniture had been moved to the sides, leaving loads of free floor space, to run and dance on.

One thing was certain and I knew this and I smile devilishly inside.  All the other parents in her class were now forced to invite all kids to their parties too, otherwise they would have a riot on their hands.

The big day came, a Friday afternoon after school, and our daughter was ecstatic - her first party.  Now, I've seen her on drugs and I know what she would look like intoxicated.  Lucky for us that this was only her 5th birthday and not 15th, so we didn't have to worry about alcohol.  Well, I needed some alcohol afterwards.

We should have known the mistake we were making, when parents dropping of their kids were running away from our house laughing.  Some even wished us good luck and asked if we had a good house insurance.  I've never witnessed parents being so punctual when it came to dropping off their kids at our house.

For the next 3 hours, our house was invided by 30-35 kids between 4-6 years old.  Thankfully we had hired our daughter's nieces, aunty and grandma to assist us. I had taken the day off work too.  It became a mad house within 30 seconds. The loud pitch screams made our dogs run away in pain.  Even I needed to wear protective headphones to protect my ears.

It has to be said, I've been to my fair share of loud heavy metal concerts in my youth (I'm still young), but nothing compared to this.  Man-O-War (the band) use to hold the record for highest Db at a live concert, but 30+ kids broke that record in no time.

Kids at that age, at a party, do not talk, they scream frantically and excitingly to each other, despite standing only a few inches from each other.  It didn't help when my dear wife pulled out her face painting kit.  Within minutes, all kids, except the loner on the sofa, were queueing up to get their face painted.

At any party, even when I was a kid, you always had one kid who didn't want to participate, and it was no different at my daughter's party.  As soon as this particular boy arrived, he jumped into the sofa.  He wasn't dressed up like all his class mates and he was in no mood to play.  Every 20 minutes he would ask me if he could play on the Wii. He got upset every time I told him no.  In the end, I was ready to demolish the Wii to remove that distraction, but decided that it was more fun to tease him by moving the Wii (+ controllers) up beyond reach.

The food table was attacked like hurricane Katrina, leaving only debrise of plastic cups, the food they didn't like and puddles of juice on the floor.

My wife had spent all evening, the previous night, preparing the special birthday cake, which was shaped as a princess. It was gorgeous (actual photo inserted).  When all the girls saw the cake they screamed hysterically and started to push each other to get a better look at it.  Honestly, if Hannah Montana had entered the room they wouldn't have cared less.  They sang their hearts out and clapped.  It was wonderful! Our daughter was sitting in the middle of the mob, smiling so much that her smile had to be surgically removed.  It was easy to see that she was having a blast.

Shortly after the birthday singing, it was time for the dance competition and bubble disco.  Imagine 30+ standing in your living room staring at you ready to dance.  My wife started the music and ALL kids started to scream and jump around.  Ornaments, flowers, DVDs and books were falling off the shelves.  Kids were pushing each other and laughing.  It was wilder than attending the Ice T concert when he sang "Cop Killer".

Finally, my wife had decided to introduce a piñata to the kids.  Basically, the kids were to smash a papier mache  animal with a wooden stick, until it cracked open, so all the sweets could fall out.  I was nominated by my wife to hold the stuffed paper animal, which meant I had to stand on a chair within swinging reach.  The main area of concern was, to be honest, my genitals.  Every time a kid would swing the wooden stick, sweat would break on my face and I would have visions of lying on the floor in severe pain.   Thankfully it didn't happen, but I was almost knocked over when little Hugo burst open the paper animal and all the sweets hit the ground.  A surge of kids charged towards the sweets, almost tipping the chair I was standing on.  Frantically I grabbed the door frame and swung to safety in my best Indiana Jones style.

3 hours past extremely quickly. However, I was surprised how late some parents came to collect their kids.  Most parents were still laughing at us, for having the party. One kid wasn't collected until 20.00 (pm), 3 hours after the party ended.

I was so grateful that the party had been on a Friday, as it gave us the rest of the weekend to recover and clean the house.  The most important bit was that all the kids, except little John, had a great time.  To this day we are continuously asked when we're having our next party...The best thing was that our daughter enjoyed every minute of it. She wanted the party to continue into the night.  This makes me a bit worried since she's clearly a little party animal.

What's with the duck?

This blog is mainly intended to explain some of the Danish Christmas traditions, especially if you have experienced these and wondered "WTF, these Danes are weirder than allowed, they are eating duck for Christmas, not mentioning all the other food they eat. How do they stay so fit?".

It doesn't even help being Danish as to why we eat duck, and it was never explained to me either. It was not one of these things, where your dad took you to one side to explain the tradition behind the mighty duck feast. My dad just told us kids to eat what's being served. And, I was probably a lot more interested in the presents than the duck anyway.

To make matters even more complicated, not all Danish people eat duck! It depends where you live. People living in Copenhagen, the snobs, are more likely to eat Goose with silverware, whereas the culchies from Funen are more inclined to eat duck with wooden cutlery. So, I've decided to investigate this in more detail.

Some useless background information. In 2007 there were almost 250.000 wild ducks in Denmark. That's impressive, until you discover that there were 16 millions chickens. Who counted all these birds, and why, I do not know. Not interested in verifying the numbers by recounting, so I'll take their word for it.

In most countries, including Denmark, it is tradition to eat either turkey or ham (or both) for Christmas, served with gravy and spuds (potatoes). But, there's obvious a reason why some Danes eat duck, and here's the reason.

- this is not a trade secret or at the same level as Santa's existence, so you can share this knowledge with your friends.

The main reason behind the duck actually starts with another Danish tradition called Morten's Aften. Not sure how to translate that into English, other than calling it Morten's Evening. This tradition is symbolising the day where Morten was voted bishop in Germany, the 11th of November in or around 370 AD. Morten actually didn't want to become bishop, so he hid among the geese, but was discovered when the geese started to make a lot of noise.

What confuses me about this tradition is, why the hell the Danes adopted it? It is based on a Italian legionaries' son and when he got older founded monasteries in Germany. All around the time when the Danes were still clubbing each other and fighting off the Fenris Wolf.

Anyway, it should in fact be geese that is eaten on Morten's Aften instead of duck. Geese have always been slightly more expensive to buy, so I assume that poorer families couldn't afford to eat Goose for neither Morten's Aften or Christmas, and substituted it with duck. I guess you could compare it with buying Lidl products instead of more expansive brands such as M&S.

From what I can gather, and knowing the Danish mentality of simplicity (you see it with Danish designed furniture; simple, but fantastic), something similar happened for the Christmas dinner. Why reinvent the wheel, when we already know the duck is cheap and tastes nice? The working class still couldn't afford buying geese and bought ducks instead. Absolutely nothing wrong with this approach, as it tastes much nicer anyway.

You could go as far as to argue that the duck is the working class goose, and therefore the main dish for both Morten's Aften and Christmas.

Later, when people started to have more money, they started to add additional dishes to the Christmas dinner. Duck was no longer the main course only, but became part of the entire Christmas feast. Many Danish families eat duck, pork (crackling) roast, pork sausages, beet-root, white potatoes, brown (sugar coated) potatoes and not to forget ris al amande for dessert.

Now do you understand why some Danes have a little belly, especially around Christmas? Or, is our body shapes simply a result of living in a fast food, and eat more if you can, era?

- that's deep, I know.

Personally, I don't care why we eat duck. It simply tastes fantastic. I'm already looking forward to the next Christmas dinner. That's my reasons. Yours?

In the company of heroes

It was going to be another tough day in the office.  I was required to attend a couple of vendor meetings in London, which meant I had to stay in London overnight - to be ready for an early start.  No point travelling out early in the morning, as it would be too tiring.  Funnily, the trip just happened to coincide with the Chelsea v Cluj Champions League game at the Bridge, Tuesday 9 December 2008.  What a coincidence!

I had never heard of Cluj, but discovered that it was a Romanian football club that miraculously made it to the CL group stages by winning the Romanian football league.  (They are apparently not doing great this season.)

This was going to be my first live football game ever. I mean ever. To see my team Chelsea play at home in the Champions League was an extra added bonus.  To make things better, I was invited to attend the game with private dinner, free bar and reserved seats.

I travelled across the water with the supplier just before lunch and took the train to London city centre.  I have a train phobia. I always freak out when I have to board the train.  What if the doors close on me?  What if I took the wrong train? What if somebody pushes me?  All these thoughts make me weird to be around. My traveling buddy noticed this and moved slowly away from me as I started to convulse.

As always, the train arrived safely at the correct train station and we checked in to the hotel shortly before lunch.  It wasn't cold, despite it being early December, but we still wanted to minimise exposure to the elements. There's no point getting sick on a business trip.  The hotel was, according to the map of London, close to the stadium, so we agreed to walk.  After walking for almost 40 minutes, we dragged our exhausted arses into the nearest cafe and we had lunch.  It just happened to be next to Harrods.

I never understood the fascination with Harrods, but based on the cars parked outside, it was the place to shop.  Some idiot had painted his Aston Martin gold. It looked like his kids had done the painting.

We finally arrived at the stadium. We went straight for a pint.  I had promised my kids some Chelsea gear, so I did my fatherly duties and got them the right stuff - all Chelsea of course. It cost me more than £100.  We made our way to the restaurant and had a nice dinner.  I felt like a complete looser surrounded by hardcore fans, who knew the history and results of Chelsea, better than they knew their own kids I'm sure.  I even had difficulties getting the shirt numbers right for John Terry and Anelka, when buying shirts for the kids.  "8 is Anelka and 4 is Terry, right?" I asked quietly.

Kick-off.  I ran to my seat like a little boy running to a toy shop, pushing everybody aside who were in my way, and I sat down.  I had goose bumps all over. I probably looked like a twat taking pictures of the scoreboard, seats, marching band, scarfs and teams warming up.  Within 15 minutes, the camera was starting to run low on batteries, so I had to use it wisely.  There were only space for another 2000 pictures on the memory card - damn!

The fans started singing and I started crying like a schoolboy.  It was a wonderful and yet strange experience.  When the ref signaled kick-off, the stadium burst into cheers.  Holding back the tears was becoming a problem and I pretended it was cold instead.  The fans were singing aloud and I mimed along (not knowing a single word) and waved my scarf.

Chelsea scored and the place exploded in blue and white colors.  No stopping us now.  But, before half time it was 1-1 and the crowd had started to become quiet.  Drogba came on in second half and scored the winning goal. He was hailed as a hero by the supporters.  It was like watching the gladiators in the Colosseum, fighting for fame and fortune.  Brilliant.

We went to the private bar after the game. I was longing for a beer. I had 4 beers.  The VIP arrangement finished an hour after kick-off, by which time all the spectators had left and we could calmly leave the Bridge behind us.  On the way out, a few of the Chelsea players left the stadium too, driving their huge Range Rovers.  It was a surreal experience to see the players up close. However, I refused to ask for their autograph or take their picture - I'm 36 you know.

Go Obama!

It was a pleasure to wake up Wednesday morning after the US presidential elections, to discover that Obama had won - most people had predicted this already, but there was always an outside, even remote, chance that McCain would win. Imagine Palin as vice president, for the most powerful nation in the World. Just the picture of her trying to negotiate with hostile leaders, e.g. North Korea.

Obama has spread joy around the Globe and has rock star status. Countries around the World celebrated the election results, and Kenya even made the 4th November a National Bank Holiday.

What impresses me, is that he seems to be honest in his communication and he has some realistic aspirations for the US. He uses the technology available to people, such as Facebook, which he will further explorer to make it easier for citizens to keep linked in. It’s about time that a Government uses the technology, which every citizen in the World has access too.

Who cares if his middle name is Hussein and does it matter if he was a registered Muslim? This just makes him a n even better candidate to tackle the foreign policy of the US - which Bush completely destroyed (don't even get me started on the devastating impact of the Bush era).

Obama has a vision of how to bring the US forward, create jobs and provide for it’s citizens. Today we are all a little bit African-American.

- by the way, I'm sure the Irish claim Obama has Irish roots too, just like Grace Kelly, Muhammad Ali and JFK.