This game kicked off to chants of ‘Putin Khuylo’ (Putin is a dickhead).
The modern evil monster overshadowed an eve-of-Halloween clash at 3.30pm on a Wednesday.
Third, the wolfmen of Polissya, versus Ukraine Premier League fifth and the kids, off school for half term, were out in droves.
Continue reading Howl lotta love – Polissya Zhytomyr 2 Kryvbas Kryvyi Rih 1
For my money, it’s the most beautiful ground in the world.
War has renewed the Lobanovski stadium’s former glory.
Dinamo play here, not the Olimpiski, as do Zorya Luhansk, despite leaving Luhansk ten years back.
Continue reading Where the trees sing – Dinamo Kyiv 1 Shakhtar Donetsk 1
Ukraine soldiers on, and so does its premier league.
Football is played in the face of evil. In a sense, its very existence is poetic. And symbolic.
Never a dull moment here. Woken at 3am by a Shahed flying over Kyiv, it was panic stations.
Almost as scary was the five-hour bus to Oleksandriya driven on bad roads by a guy seemingly on steroids whose phone was stuck to his ear most of the way (top tip: NEVER get the bus to Oleksandriya).
Continue reading UPL plays on – FK Oleksandriya 1 Vorskla Poltava 0
Eleven years on, and they’re still wonderful.
Why someone – maybe the National Eisteddfod – can’t get them to the UK to perform is a mystery.
In the meantime, you have to come here or go to France where their brand of cabaret has a market.
Swear I heard the roar of relief from Vovchansk sweep across the stadium.
This one was for the boys and girls in the trenches, for sure!
And unlike in Munich many more Ukrainians were present. Roughly 6,000 againt Romania, perhaps 15,000 in smaller Dusseldorf.
Continue reading Ukraine Shap up nicely – Ukraine 2 Slovakia 1
Perhaps the most anticipated game in the country’s history, what a shame many Ukraine fans weren’t able to attend. Some, of course, are no longer with us.
Half an hour before kick off a friend in Poltava messaged: “We’ve just got a bomb near my mum. They’re OK but very scared. Have a nice time.”
Which pretty much put everything in perspective. In the two hours or so of this match, it’s likely a few Ukrainians died on the front line fighting Putin.
This game was for them.
Continue reading Ukraine mullered in Munich – Romania 3 Ukraine 0
Well this one had war written all over it. Only thing missing was a Red Arrows flypast.
For starters, Metalist playing in their home city of Kharkiv risks bombs falling during the game without warning. So not much point playing there.
Here in Kyiv, sirens go off well before any cruise missile/Russian rocket hits the city. Most are shot down.
In Kharkiv, close to the border, you take your chances. One guy told me: ‘My friend there says that when they bomb he just goes to sit on the toilet and pray.’
Continue reading War games – Metalist 1925 Kharkiv 0 Vorskla Poltava 3
Does president Zelenskiy’s magical mojo extend to the team from his home town? They played like it has.
The crew from Kryvi Rih came back from one down to thrash the hosts with a slick, confident display that took them to top of the table for 24 hours until Shakhtar’s 1-1 draw returned them to first.
Last time I visited Vorskla, you could throw snowballs at the substitutes when it got boring. This time it was 28 degrees Centigrade.
Never too late to do something for the first time so it’s embarrassing to sample operetta this late in life.
Lviv National Opera being the perfect place to start.
Not a sell-out – ticket was 400 hrivna, about £9.
Lviv’s lively street celebrations almost defy belief more than 550 days after Russia launched its crazed invasion.
Above, crowds gathered to banish the blues as a series of acts entertained citizens before the city suffered its first bomb attack shortly after I left for Kyiv.
Wednesday 8pm: It’s as if there is no war – Lviv is celebrating itself.
Crowds throng the half-mile long piazza in front of the city’s opera house under the watchful eye of national poet Taras Shevchenko, looking down benignly from his plinth, and probably delighted by the spectacle.
Children scamper through the ornamental fountain; old men play backgammon with an intensity you can almost smell; babushki gossip, flashing their immaculate dentistry; Roma children as young as four try to sell you flowers.
A couple snog on one bench – unusual to see that in Ukraine – a sozzled alcoholic straddles the next one. He looks like he’s making love to it.
A girl sporting a T-shirt with the slogan Killer Tits (not in Cyrillic) scoffs candy floss with her boyfriend; teenage schoolgirls watch the musicians raptly, clinging together and grooming each other’s long tresses.
And then there’s what can only be described as the best street musicians in the world providing defiance/joy/inspiration.
She nailed it. My pal Anya, 33, from Kyiv, first game ever, said after 85 minutes: “You guys need to practise scoring.”
Continue reading Gherkins and the Golden Boot – Ukraine 1 Wales 0
Miles from Nowhere 