Champions League 2007 - 2008 - Euro Red Diary 27

by Joel Rookwood

Porto v Liverpool: UEFA Champions Group Stage 18 September 2007

In a season that is supposed to be all about bringing the championship back to its Merseyside home, Liverpool kicked off their Champions League campaign against the team they succeeded as European Cup winners in 2005, with European football almost completely removed from Scouse consciousness.

Jose Mourinho's Porto won the biggest prize in European football twelve months before Liverpool's famous victory in Istanbul, and twelve months after they had overcome Martin O'Neil's Celtic in the UEFA Cup final, in an incredible two years for the Portuguese club. Whilst the powerhouse from northern Portugal have enjoyed a relatively modest three seasons in a continental context since the 'special one' departed for London, they continue to dominate the Portuguese domestic scene, last season edging closer to former giants Benfica in the ultimate test of national dominance: the championship tally. And although Porto's primary concern, like Liverpool's, is the league title, the significance of the European Cup cannot be far from the minds of the players and management of both clubs. For appearances in the final are fresh in the memory. In addition to individual ambition however, the financial stability of both clubs is still closely related to respective Champions League performance. Even for this reason alone, match day one in Group A was certain to prove a telling encounter.

Besiktas and Marseille are likely to battle it out for the UEFA Cup place that still (somewhat unjustly) comes as 'reward' for finishing third in the group. That will leave Liverpool and Porto to compete for top spot and progression in the competition. Winning the group doesn't always guarantee a more favourable draw in the Super Sixteen round of the competition that follows, as Liverpool themselves would testify. Yet recent history illustrates that topping the group rather than finishing second represents the best opportunity of progressing in the tournament.

On a night when a mere 24,000 Chelsea supporters turned up at Stamford Bridge to bid farewell to Mourinho and to thank him for three more seasons of success-free European football (and to see their team's scrappy and scraped 1-1 draw against European superpower Rosenborg), Liverpool, having taken their allocation of tickets as usual, took 3,000 reds to Porto. Now I was jumping out of a plane 14,000 feet somewhere above the Pacific Ocean when the draw for the Champions League group stage was made. And so I returned to the UK too late to experience the luxury of being able to book a return flight direct to Porto, for less than £1000. So, with a heavy sigh that told me this was to be 'another one of those trips', Day Stead and I booked a flight to Santiago de Compostella in northern Spain.

Minibus Mick et al. were on the same flight and offered us a lift down to Porto. If it wasn't for the fact that Gary Foot was one of the passengers, we could have been forgiven for thinking that the trip was looking up. In spite of this, we agreed to grace them with our presence, on the condition that we stop in Vigo on route. Being the accommodating kid he always is, Mick 'the alehouse' Burt was in full agreement, and so we headed 'Beego'. After a tour of Celta Vigo's ground and club museum, we then headed for and eventually crossed the Portuguese border.

Prior to travelling, Day and I had opted in to stay in a pension, which is usually a winner in that part of the world. And this occasion proved no exception to the rule. We had booked just the one room, and when we went to inspect it, we were a little concerned that it might only have the one bed. However, as we flung the old wooden door open, nearly off it hinges, we were pleasantly surprised (or was that concerned?) that it had five beds ....and it was en suite. Not bad for about 6p a night. That legionary Portuguese business acumen was in evidence once again.

Keen for a little refreshment, we kept the accommodation stop a brief one and headed for the Ribiera part of the city, underneath one of the city's many impressive bridges. The area was part of the reason Porto, like Liverpool are set to be in 2008, had recently been named 'European Capital of Culture'. It was all cobbles and culture, but was nice enough apart from that, principally because it sold Super Bok, and in very big glasses. After swapping stories of summer adventures in foreign lands, and asking one another if this would finally be 'the year', we realised it was forty minutes to kick off, and jumped in a taxi and headed for the ground. The driver struggled, even on his cushion, to see out of the windscreen. He was approaching his mid 110s, but against all odds, managed to get us to the ground for kick-off.

Porto's Estadio do Dragao, the name of which seems to have something to do with a dragon, was the only stadium I failed to gain entry to during a comprehensive tour of the country during Euro 2004. It was barely worth the wait. Cheaply made, poor acoustics, no original architectural or even decorative characteristics, it was the Reading of Portugal, just a bit bigger. Not that it should have been, for there were empty blue seats everywhere you looked. Delusions of grandeur indeed: Everton - take note.

When the game eventually got underway, it was the home team that looked the brighter, as Reina had to be sharp to deny Porto going into an early lead in the opening minutes. Moments later, after the aging though legendary Sami Hypia momentarily failed to do his own job, the Liverpool keeper brought down Lucho Gonzalez, and Benitez's side consequently conceded their forth penalty of the campaign. Gonzalez converted the resultant spot kick, earning Porto a deserved lead. It was an advantage however, that they were to maintain for just nine minutes, as tireless worker Durk Kuyt headed Liverpool level and effectively secured Liverpool a point in the process with just seventeen minutes on the clock.

The idiot that is Jermaine Pennant, who got himself sent off after receiving a second pointless yellow card on the hour mark, together with the impressive Ricardo Quaresma - a recent Liverpool transfer target - threatened to conspire to reassert Porto's numerical advantage. But Liverpool, renowned for resilience, held on to claim a useful point. And what seemed like a week later, Stead and I returned home from Portugal, via Barcelona, for some reason. Next up in the tale of European aways? It's that easy reach capital, Istanbul of course, for the game against Besiktas in three weeks. Why bother unpacking?

Super Bok.