As venues go this one this one wasn’t as tricky to reach as Algeceiras in the hick end of Spain in 2002 but it wasn’t exactly easy either. Once the few cheap flights from the North East to Stuttgart had vanished the car was the only option for our four man party. Via a killer traffic jam on the M25, a night out in Paris and a day in the picturesque-but-ultimately-quite-dull German town of Worms in the end, but get to the game we did.

Pre match is normally the best part of pre season but from the moment we rocked up outside Hoffenheim’s shiny out of town dome it became obvious that this lead up to 3 ‘o clock would be a bit of an anti climax. The fact it was lashing down meant grazing outside wasn’t an option, leaving us with a choice of licking the interior windows of our Audi or heading inside the ground and sampling the legendary German cuisine.

Hoffenheim’s insistence that only 0% proof lager could be poured from the pumps in the Nord Est Kurve seemed to devastate a hefty clump of our support, and maybe this was to blame for more being able to see straight and put one foot in front of the other than is usual during these games. By the time our beloved stripes trotted out on to the pitch we must have had 400 in our corner applauding, a fine effort made finer by the fact that the local media reported the Mags as taking 60 ‘people’ to Spain last week.

If you had to use a phrase to describe our performance it would be ‘fairly bollocks’. Mignolet was decent in goal but the amount of work he had to get through was testament to how shaky our defence looked. Even fully paid up members of the Title Bramble is a Good Buy Club like myself had to admit that he had a few horrible moments. With the season only a week away our stoppers had better get clicking sharpish.

By the time the ref blew for half time we were 2-0 down and it was a welcome relief to be able to take a break and comb our safe standing enclosure for familiar faces and a chat. Neither Malbranque nor Campbell had looked the business on the flanks in the first half and the consensus was that these areas in particular need beefing up via Mr Short’s AMEX card.

A raft of changes from the ever-inflating Bruce livened us up and the game even got half interesting for a couple of minutes after substitute Henderson scored with a swirly free kick that the cynics amongst us suspected may have been a cross. Unfortunately they notched straight after though, the large and noisy home crowd lapping it up as Johnny Foreigner slotted past a flailing Mignolet. Cue 400 sighs and an acceptance that this match was going to stutter to a close in the tedious fashion it had more or less throughout.

Oh well, another country ticked off and more memories lodged in the awaydays vault. Bruce has pedigree though and should be trusted to get us purring by next weekend, fear not.

Final Score: 1-3

ALS Man of the Match: Simon Mignolet

Tom Bright

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