OFTR’s Guide To Watching The Euro’s In Dublin

Those of you who don’t like watching football and drinking alcohol with foreigners may as well stop reading now and return to doing crochet and listening to Leonard Cohen because this is a post about watching football and drinking with foreigners.

For those of you who are still here, you may be aware that the European Championships are on in Swistria at the moment.

However, what with Dublin being the dick swinging European capital of overpriced alcohol and the hub of the European sex trade, it just so happens that our Fair City is full to bursting with all manner of European crusties and Slavic pimps only too eager to go out and watch their countries compete in one of our many piss smelling boozers.

It is my ambition this summer, before I inflict myself on the Scandanavians again, to watch as many games with as many different nationalities as possible, and then to bore you with the results, should I be able to remember them.

First up was Poland v Germany last Sunday, in what was bound to be a highly charged affair because of the history and hatred festering there for years and years - much like Ireland v England or anyone against Australia.

Despite the proliferation of Polish bars on Capel St, I decided on the Czech Inn for this one, the reason being that I was already in the Foggy Dew and had to leave because they were playing fucking reggae in the corner. Reggae is shit music for retards with no taste.

Anyway, the Czech Inn was heaving in red and white. It was also roasting inside, meaning that all the stunning Polish women and their musclebound lantern jawed boyfriends appeared to sparkle in the glow of the afternoon sunshine when they went outside for a cheap eastern European fag.

As the game progressed, the crowd got more and more drunk, resulting in a decent old sing song. ‘Polska Goal’ to the tune of ‘Here We Go’ and ‘Polska clapclapclap’ to the tune of culchie’s perennial Croke Park favourite ‘Laois / Kerry / Co-ork / Wexford clapclapclap’ being the two that I could, and most willingly did, join in with.

Beer was cheap and delicious, people were mental, and the only blot on the copybook was the mighty Bosch winning with their usual teutonic efficiency, with two goals from Polish born Lukas Podolski. And to be fair to the Polish fans, they didn’t wreck the gaff like the Irish would have done if something like that happenned to us.

8/10

Next stop was Anseo on Tuesday night for Sweden v Greece, the 2004 Champions.

Apparently the Swedish editorial team behind Totally Dublin had organised a big screen for the event. However, they apparently forgot to advertise the fucking thing, meaning that only about 12 people were there.

Now Anseo is one of my favourite boozers. However, Ive only ever been there at night. And to my dismay, I found it to be much like being in the Dice Bar / Sin É / Bernard Shaw in the daylight hours. That’s to say it was dingy, smelly, run down and depressing.

The game was shown on a big screen upstairs in a room that looked like it had been taken from some Guy Ritchie film & the handful of Swedes who were there - and personally I suspect that of the 12 people, only 2 were actually Swedish - were as dull as fucking dishwater.

To be honest I was actually half thinking of shouting for Greece just to give the place a bit of atmosphere. But then Zlatan spanked one home, and there was a tiny bit of celebration.

A massive let down. I have no desire to return.

3/10

Next up (possibly) Russia’s next game in Mojo’s on Abbey St.

I fully expect to be either bottled or raped…I’ll keep you all posted.

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