The Final - Build Up #1

After experiencing a few issues at the security gates during the semi final (apparently 3 English lads, with Arabic and Persian roots, wearing Finnish, South African and Colombian football shirts, accompanied by an Egyptian, was something of a headache for the Cairo Stadium rules and reg’s), we decided to get there nice and early for the final. 

Distracted by football related activities all week, we had left the trip to the Pyramids to our final day, spending the morning visiting the ancient site just outside the city. Kick off wasn’t until 9pm, but from 2pm onwards, we set off to complete the pre-game tasks.

Morning visit to the Giza Pyramids, a 30 minute drive north of central Cairo.

We had decided to splash out on Category 1 seats, (about £80 a piece) but despite this, tickets and Fan ID’s all had to be printed and collected at certain shops and checkpoints around the city. This forced us to spend our afternoon driving around malls and shopping centres, trying to find an Orange mobile store that still had tickets in stock, before battling through the city at rush hour to find parking near the ground. 

We were greeted by roadblocks, police cordons, and the seemingly obligatory sight at all major sporting events - men dressed in suits, wearing lanyards, wandering around with walkie talkies, doing very little. Making our way to the gate, we were denied entry on account of the Egyptian President’s imminent arrival, and told to stand on the pavement and wait. 

Joining a diverse group of fans from Egypt, Senegal, Algeria and a whole host of other African nations, we stood on the street patiently. Despite being restricted by the security and police forces, spirits were high, anticipating a swift entrance into the stadium once the President’s car had entered our gate.

Growing frustration in the crowd as the Police bar our entry. Note the armed guard on the bridge (one of many along the stadium’s perimeter)

As the minutes ticked by, turning soon to hours, our group of fans began to get more and more frustrated. Security staff were saying nothing (certainly not in English anyway), and the exchanges we witnessed were tense between themselves and the African fans. There was no sign of any Presidential cars, and indeed no indication of when we might be allowed inside. 

Despite arriving nearly 3 hours before kick off, we found ourselves still on the street, 100 metres from the stadium, with less than an hour to go. The closing ceremony’s firework display was visible and audible from our standing spot, peering through the car park gates for our obscured view of the festivities. Understandably, the Algerian and Senegalese fans were particularly perturbed, having presumably travelled great distances at huge costs to be in Cairo to support their nations.

Kick off loomed nearer, and the majority of us seemed resigned to defeat - a sea of sad faces stood on the street, heads in hands and shuffling feet as we contemplated the wasted trip, and the likelihood of ever making it inside. VIP cars tried and failed at the same gate, with a notable denied passenger being the famous France and Bayern Munich star Frank Ribery, looking as confused and annoyed as the rest of us from the back seat of his chauffeured Mercedes. 

‘Take photos of what the police are doing’, shouted one fan, wearing a red and black Egypt jersey, with the seemingly obligatory ‘Salah 10’ on the back. The gate teams had closed in around the packs of fans, kettling us into small groups with little or no explanation, armed guards standing menacingly at every turn. 

‘They won’t let us in now, they’re saying so’, he went on, ‘I’m embarrassed that this is happening in my country’. 

His frustration, spilling over into desperation and anger, seemed to summarise the mood of those around him. As the game kicked off, hundreds of us were still on the streets outside, forced to watch the beginning of the final on a tiny screen atop a nearby fast food kiosk.

One of many frustrated Egyptian fans amongst the Algerians, Senegalese and neutrals.