The block across from us – full of guests of the potato chip brand Lay’s – all had their phones ready to capture the big moment. Manchester City had just defeated Internazionale to become European champions and win the treble. Fans around us cried and hugged as Ilkay Gündogan walked up to lift his third trophy in a month. This was the endpoint of a wild journey for the team that I’ve been watching since my first match in 1992. It was, as a football fan, as good as it could ever possibly get, but almost all I could think about was: how the hell can I get some water?
In an attempt to keep the rival fans apart, beat Istanbul’s impressively stubborn traffic and get everyone to their seats in time, Uefa had insisted that City’s fans start heading to the Ataturk Olympic Stadium, in the far north-west of the city, from as early as 1pm. They were instructed to gather outside a grim “fan park” on the city’s south coast to catch a supposed hour’s shuttle bus to the ground.
When we arrived outside the fan park at about 3pm (with kick-off still seven hours away) a giant queue snaked down the unshaded pavement in the baking heat. Of course the only toilets were located inside the fan park – which meant queuing up, going through airport-style scanners and having our water confiscated (why?) before finding the loos, buying more water and going back out to queue for the buses again.
At the front of that queue our water was taken off us again by the police before we boarded a shuttle bus to another fan park outside the stadium. With traffic gridlocked for the entire 17-mile journey, the ride took more than two hours. For others it was longer. Friends witnessed people peeing in plastic bags: in the end many people were so desperate to escape they forced the bus doors and walked the rest of the way. We watched in amusement as they overtook us on foot as we crawled to the stadium.
We arrived at the fan park just before 7pm – where, if we’d had any water, it would have no doubt been confiscated. Giant screens soon informed us that the bars and food stands in the fan park were now closed and we would have to head into the stadium. Still, at least there were only three hours to wait before kick-off.
The ticket system, at least, worked well – and the terrifying scenes outside the Stade de France last year when Liverpool fans with tickets were teargassed weren’t repeated at the gates. However, once inside – and after having another bottle of water and a tiny bottle of suncream confiscated – we were desperate for food and water and trudged around only to find the few concession stands had giant queues. Due to a lack of card machines at this Mastercard-sponsored mega event, people were struggling to buy anything. I ended up queuing for an hour to pay £38 for two hot dogs, some crisps and some water – and in my dehydrated state was grateful for that. In other parts of the ground, the queue was more than two hours. I was amused to note, just before Rodri’s curling winner – and scenes of delirium in the City end – a sponsor’s stunt to the left of us in the corporate section: someone having a JustEat delivery brought to their seats. A nice touch to remind us who this event is really for.
Gone midnight, after the game and the hugs and tears of victory, things were much worse. City fans were directed to a car park and shuttle buses that either weren’t there or couldn’t move. People in wheelchairs were being lifted across rough terrain and I saw a man with crutches struggle in the queue. Older fans were on their feet for hours. My friend Nick and his 77-year-old father John ended up walking down to the gridlocked motorway and paying €100 for a taxi to their hotel. My friends and I – all youngish and able-bodied – ignored the official advice and made the half-hour walk – past the giant VIP tent and its well-managed coach park – to the metro station north of the stadium, which we’d been told had been reserved for Inter fans. We got back to the centre of the city at 3am. Thankfully the party was still going and we were able to celebrate with other Blues. Many weren’t so lucky and were waiting for buses until the early hours.
How is Uefa so bad at this? Entrepreneurial young men selling bottles of water and cans of beer from plastic bags outside the gates provided a much more efficient (and cheaper) supply than anything provided by the governing body. Obviously I am under no illusion that this would be an event for lifelong fans but you’d hope that an organisation that accrued €3.5bn in revenue from this season’s club competitions would be able to make sure people stay hydrated. So here’s just one extremely cheap and easy suggestion for Uefa for finals held in our increasingly warm continent: give fans at the ground free water – it’s the least you can get for tickets that ranged from £60 to £600. And it’s so basic – especially compared with the herculean task of trying to outmanoeuvre notoriously bad traffic.
And I know, I know, it feels extremely churlish to moan after being lucky enough to be at the match when others struggled in vain to get a ticket – and especially given what happened to Liverpool supporters in Paris last year. But that’s how Uefa get away with it – how could fans possibly complain when they’re so privileged to be there?
Istanbul is a wonderful, tolerant, friendly city with one of the richest football traditions on the planet. It deserves to host these kinds of showpieces. And the atmosphere among both sets of fans, with the police and the locals, was great all weekend.
So here’s another suggestion for the next time Uefa wants to host a Champions League final in this glorious city. Right in the centre of Istanbul sits Besiktas’s gleaming new 42,000-seat stadium. City and Inter were each given 20,000 of the total 72,000 tickets to Saturday’s final and Uefa said another 7,200 were available to “fans and the general public”. Hold it at Besiktas instead and allocate half the capacity to each team’s fans. Uefa’s 25,000-odd guests can watch on TV with a JustEat delivery and a can of Heineken. I realise that’s an impossible dream. But I once thought the same about Manchester City being kings of Europe.
Uefa has been approached for comment.
Will Dean is an editor on the Guardian’s Saturday magazine
