Friendship, recovery and a Bulgarian radio: Sheffield Wednesday and the best of what football can be
Sheffield Wednesday’s European training camp ended over the weekend, a trip that took them from Germany to Austria and back again. The Star were lucky enough to meet some Owls fans at their match at Zell am Ziller - and were told some fascinating stories.
Have you ever stopped a beat to think; what is football? When you really strip away the grainy old vignettes of legends past and the camaraderie and the emotion and the trips to grounds far flung, what is it other than 22 people chasing a stitched-up bag of air round a patch of grass?
What is it about that pastime that convinces millions to spend money they don’t have on overpriced shirts and overpriced pies and overpriced trains and overpriced tickets, that sends the national conversation into a frenzy of beer chucking or effigy-hanging and everything in between? Children are named after those that do the running round, tattoos emblazoned forever. Grown men who didn’t cry at the birth of their children can bawl at the sight of a bag of air hitting some netting and communities live and die on the events played out on that patch of grass in the centre of it. Step back and think about it. It’s all quite, quite mad.
It’s a thought that can pop into the mind now and again. Packing my bags for a week-long trip to Europe to follow the Owls round Austria and Germany last week, my better half responded in confusion at the idea three local reporters would be jetting off to cover a couple of friendlies and a single media day. Her old man is a match-going football fan, her brother was on the books at an EFL club in his youth and her husband pays a bit of the mortgage writing nonsense about it. She’s no football sceptic and certainly has an appreciation for it - it plays a big part of her life. But, truthfully, it’s not for her.
Those of us working is one thing, but when I told her somewhere around 200 Wednesday fans were expected to make the trip, she replied in astonishment that they’d part with valuable annual leave and spend hard-earned cash to attend a couple of friendlies. When I told her the first was behind closed doors and that they’d be travelling for one, she shook her head confused and left the room.
Zell am Ziller is a stunning place and even without the attraction of football is absolutely a place well worth a visit. It’s a small but perfectly formed ski town, clean and unspoiled. And for a week each summer, it’s transformed into green-clad Werderville as Werder Bremen move in for a week’s pre-season preparation. Serie A side Lecce beat them 3-0 on July 20 with only a handful of Italian fans on show. Around 200 Wednesday fans arrived in the days before their 120-minute run-out the following Friday to add a splash of blue and white and yellow and orange.
Chinwags with those to have made the trip each uncovered their own stories of Wednesdayism. The four lads who had driven for 22 hours to make it, the group of friends and family who had quite sensibly decided it wasn’t worth the financial outlay before sinking a first beer at a christening and booking on regardless.
One chap I spoke to travelled all that way only to have to leave the match on 60 minutes in order to catch a train that would get him back in time to attend the under-21s friendly at Scarborough. Leaving that chance meeting, I briefly bore the expression of my missus. After speaking to a handful of the Wednesday fans in Zillertall, any confusion was scrubbed out.
“Some people don’t believe it..”
Assen Jankulov, 45, is a sales manager for a transport company and made the trip to Zillertal, a sizeable 450km, five-hour schlep west from his home in Vienna. Born into communist Bulgaria, as a child he would crouch over a radio to listen to English football matches and developed an obsession with the game some can’t understand. It provided glamour and a peek into a world he could only imagine.
In 1991 at the age of 13, he hand-wrote a letter to every top tier side in England to ask for a signed photo. Only Sheffield Wednesday responded, sending him a photo signed by the entire squad a few weeks later. An obsession was born and Assen has since built a collection of Owls memorabilia few can match. Two Wembley trips and dozens of Sheffield trips later, he speaks with a passion for Wednesday as strong as you’d find in the post-match Shakey.
“There was no television, only radio,” Assen said, speaking to The Star outside a bar just metres from the Parkstadion the night before the Werder run-out. “We were in communism, so it was not possible to show the Western European TV. I was a boy. English football was the top league and in 91, 93 Wednesday was a top team. The first match ever shown on Bulgarian TV was the final of the 93 FA Cup and then the replays. It is a famous match in Bulgaria.
“I have been to Portugal, Slovenia, Holland, Germany twice in Austria for pre-season matches. I watch on iFollow, I travel to matches three or four or five times a season, I have a brick on the Derek Dooley wall at Hillsborough. Sheffield Wednesday is important to me.
“It is not interesting to support Manchester United, Liverpool, Arsenal. I come from a small town in Bulgaria and although Sheffield is not a small town, the people feel familiar to me. It is not London, the people are good and they are welcoming. This is why. Some people don’t believe it when I explain my love for Sheffield Wednesday. But I love it.”
“I’m back..”
The horror show of Sheffield Wednesday’s March 2020 defeat at Brentford was still fresh in the mind of Jason Ellis as he strapped on his running trainers and strode out for a jog in Paris. A former Sheffield PE teacher, the fit and healthy Wednesdayite had moved to the French capital a decade or so earlier but would fly back to the UK for home and away matches on a very regular basis.
The Owls had lost 5-0 at Griffin Park and wrapped in the danger of points deductions and growing unrest, the mood around the club was low. Jason had earlier that week returned from Hillsborough, where he’d seen a star-studded Manchester City side win a cup tie thanks to a Sergio Agüero goal. He had no idea it would be his last Wednesday match for four-and-a-half years.
On that run, his mind no doubt flickering to the failing fortunes of his team back home from time to time, he fell and hit his head. He was left brain damaged, unable to speak or walk, his requirement for round-the-clock healthcare arriving as the claws of Covid gripped Europe. Sat outside a cafe the afternoon before the game, he speaks with an understated pride on his journey and with great excitement about the prospect of seeing Sheffield Wednesday play football once more.
“I was almost dead,” he said. “I’m recovering bit by bit. I was out jogging, I fell down and hit my head. I was nearly dead. It’s been hard. I haven’t been to Hillsborough since the home match against Man City. When Danny said we were going to Germany, I told myself, if it happens, I’m going. He has given me hope, I’ve used it to give me hope.”
Jason speaks with passion and in short sentences, his words a little slurred. He made the trip alone and during our conversation, his wife calls to ensure he’s OK. Despite our protestations, he answers on the second attempt and reassures her all is well. You can’t help but wonder how many calls he received during the trip. This was clearly an important journey for the 56-year-old, who had travelled by train to Zillertal via Mannheim and Munich. Without Sheffield Wednesday it was one he’d have never made. It was a big step.
He said: “I used to go everywhere, but now I don’t. Bit by bit I’m coming back. I’ve always been Wednesday, but I haven’t been able to go for a long time. My health is improving bit by bit, I struggled to walk. You never know what might happen to you. You don’t know what can be taken away. I couldn’t speak. It was a nightmare, but this is it for me. I’m back.”
“It’s the people you meet..”
There’s little surprise when Maurits ten Kate tells us he’s a part-time tennis teacher. He’s about six-foot-six with a flash of blonde hair. If you were to ask AI to draw you up a Dutch tennis teacher, it would deliver you a photo of Maurits. He’s also a sports journalist and following his trip to Austria is spending time covering the Olympics.
A decade ago he and his father travelled to Sheffield to take in some World Championship snooker. Season ticket holders at FC Utrecht, they couldn’t pass up the chance to take in an afternoon’s football and a look at the fixtures landed correctly.
“It was a Wednesday game that week,” he smiled, standing pitchside an hour or so before the friendly kicked off. “It could have been a United game, but luckily it was Wednesday! We drew, but I fell in love. It took me a while to get back to Hillsborough, but I got back in 2017 for the derby against the Blades. We all remember, we want to forget but we will remember. I met up with some friends online and I’ve been going ever since.”
Going ever since he has. Maurits has made close friends through his adopted Wednesdayism and at great expense flies over for matches every season, ticking off a number of stadiums along the way. There’s a humble nature to the way he speaks about the club, a thankfulness that fate pushed him in the direction of S6. When asked about why a young Dutchman would catch feelings for a massive-but-middling football club in the north of England, he mentions a handful of things but speaks most enthusiastically about the people he meets along the way.
“I cannot explain it,” he said. “I have been to a few different English games, I’ve been to Fulham matches. But it was pretty dull, they have a daft crowd. I was never going to be there with a posh crowd, watching the game. I was always going to be Wednesday. I can’t describe the feeling, it’s a combination of the stadium, the people, the club itself. It’s the backstory, the ups and downs. But it’s the people you meet. The people are good to me every time. It gives me great memories every time.”
The night before Werder Bremen played Sheffield Wednesday had the air of a dodgy joke about it; a Dutchman, a Bulgarian, some Germans and a few Yorkshiremen walking into a bar. Werder supporters shared beers and talked football with new friends from South Yorkshire, tales of football travel were shared among nationalities that could have stretched beyond the digits of one hand. As the sound system played out Jeff Beck’s immortal opening bars, locals reached for their phones to record the sing-song that followed. The scene went long into the night.
The next day, Assen helped out Owls fans who had grown concern at word of the match selling out by speaking in German to secure tickets from an otherwise confused stadium employee. Songs were shared from fan base to fan base. A group of Werder fans swapped numbers with Wednesdayites and a promise was made to head over to one another’s matches and meet up; the sofa is free.
At its bare bones it might just be a load of people chasing a bag of air and at times it might bring out the worst in some. It certainly has its problems. In truth when you follow a team around there are probably more bad days than good. But to experience a few expensive days in an Austrian ski town could have one argue with confidence that football is the world’s greatest culture.
Some people don’t really get it, my wife included. It’s not for them and that’s fine, there are other more important things to be getting on with. But football is ace, an experience like no other. It’s the people. And that is why they do it. I think.