Newcastle Jets 1 Sydney FC 1 (2-4 penalties)
If football fans could choose a single away day experience as the blueprint for every away game, this would be very close to the top. Sydney FC supporters, who have endured some bleak times in an underperforming season, were rewarded with a breathtaking, nerve-wracking and ultimately successful trip to McDonald Jones Stadium as Ben Garuccio steered the final penalty past James Delianov at the home end to tee up a Grand Final showdown in Auckland next weekend. This was something special, a packed stadium of passionate football fans riding the rollercoaster of knock-out football; fellow football codes take note – this is what passion is all about.
Another tricky fixture to navigate, with the final whistle of park football sounding at 4.45pm, no time for a shower, but a quick change of clothes and we were on the M1 up to Newcastle with about two and a half hours to get there. Luckily there was no traffic of note, but the next thing was to find a car park, the parking sold out when we booked the tickets and the road next to the stadium at a standstill. A quick change of mind and we went backstreets on the north side, finding a street park a 15-minute walk from our destination. Lots of people were doing the same, this might be an option when the Matildas are here in a few weeks. As we arrived, the ‘Sold Out’ signs were up in the ticket box, this was going to be something special. The concourse inside was a sea of people, people were in party mode, Newcastle had come out to support its all-conquering team in their latest quest for silverware.
After a quick hello with some Jets fans in the home end – honestly, who needs segregation – and a look at the phenomenal queues for a beer, we found our seats under cover at the back of the away bay, the tactical purchase allowing us free rein to stand or sit to watch the game, depending on our level of stress. The bay was full. The Cove broke with tradition at this venue and were in place well before kick-off, the stadium almost full, what a beautiful sight! As was the entrance of the players, well past the allotted kick -off time of 7.40pm, and the sparkles that welcomed the two teams cast a wonderful plume of smoke like a grand entrance on the Eurovision Song Contest. The scene was set for entertainment, the Sydney fans already in full voice, trying to out-sing the stadium PA with We Are Sydney. Sentiment from both sets of fans was of apprehension and anxiety, Sydney FC’s long-suffering supporters just blessed to be here with a sniff at making the Grand Final after the season we’d had, and Newcastle always ready for the good times to come crashing down around them.
The toin coss had the teams running the way they should be, the Jets shooting away from their home end, and the game started at an almighty tempo, players slipping and sliding all over the field thanks to the late watering of the turf beforehand. Lachie Rose was back for the Jets, who looked at full strength, Sydney had Joe Lolley as a weapon off the bench and continued with Akol Akon out wide; meanwhile in our section a battle was taking place between the front row of the undercover section and the people standing in the wheelchair area blocking their view, the police having to intervene to move on people, and those remaining playing the part of wounded animal to a tee – the perils of a full stadium, I guess.
The Cove was in fine voice, the acoustics not great in our section, and on the field Paul Okon-Engstler was struggling to find his feet, passes going astray and twice he had a handful of his opponents shirts and escaped punishment. Piero Quispe was infuriating, knowing that he had to keep the ball, trying a low-percentage nutmeg that sent the Jets away on the attack when a simple pass would have maintained possession. Sydney’s flicks and tricks were all working, a back heel and shimmy by Okon wowing the crowd. Jordan Courtney-Perkins was fortunate to win a free kick when he dived head first in front of Rose when the Newcastle striker threatened to get around him into the box.
Clayton Taylor rolled a ball in up the far end that Rose couldn’t turn in, the first great chance of the game falling to the home team. There were some empty seats in the home end at the front, probably due to the fans preferring to stand at the back of the grassy hill area. The game had turned in Jets’ favour, Taylor fizzing a shot just wide, and there was a little bit of spice in the game, Apostolos Stamatelopoulos watching as his close attention on the Jets player shielding the ball sent him to the floor, and then standing over him and seeming to stand on his hand. There was a booking for Max Burgess, and Tiago Quintal stole the ball from Jets’ star defender Mark Natta before stinging the palms of Delianov. The first half would have gone to the hosts on points, but we’d been entertained and Sydney FC were resolute.
The second half was moments old when Akon got away from his man only to be hauled back by his shirt, another yellow for the home side. Rose then smashed a shot just over that Harrison Devenish-Meares watched all the way. The action was coming thick and fast. Sydney had their big chance when Stama raced through on the left, beat his man, but his finish when faced with Delianov was disappointing, the goalkeeper saving easily, and Stama stuffed his pass when the ball came back in; perhaps this was not our night.
Quispe continued to irk, picking up a stupid yellow for a ridiculous kick-out on his player, and then giving away a nonsensical foul. The chant of Newcastle, Newcastle went around the stadium – why on earth they don’t borrow some better chants from their EPL namesakes is beyond me – but the Cove were singing non-stop; the Sydney FC ole ole ole chant seemed to miss a beat, the bays not synching. There was a round of applause in the 57th minute for Jets legend Chris Turner, his photo on the big screens, and that coincided with some dangerous attacking from the home side. Sydney though were bright going forward, and when Okon lifted in a looping ball, Grant appeared to keep the ball in and the ball hit a defender’s arm. We were pretty much in line with it from our position, it wasn’t out, and the referee team appeared to take the easy way out and call it a goal kick instead of enduring an impossible angle for VAR. It could be a pivotal moment though.
The game was there for the taking, and when Akon intercepted a ball by his own corner flag, he offloaded and set off on a run, Stama doing the spade work down in front of us to beat his man and tee up Akon inside. A step to the right and he got a shot away, not the most powerful by any means, but Delianov spilled it and there was Quispe, homing in to slot the rebound home and run across to the Sydney fans who were already bouncing. What a move, what a moment, the unlikely was happening : Sydney FC were winning in Newcastle.
A cheeky push by Stama as he lost the race to a through ball wasn’t punished, the riot cops were being told off for blocking the view after they had congregated to keep an eye on the Sydney fans who were giving it the big one to the Newcastle contingent in the adjacent bay. It was backs to the wall for Sydney, the hosts throwing everything forward, leaving gaps at the back. When Garuccio was freed on the left to hang in a majestic cross, Stama was all alone in front and connected beautifully, the Cove rising as one, but he directed the header straight at Delianov, a disappointing end to a superb move.
Akon was running on empty, Quispe and then Stama hooked instead, as time ticked towards full time. Paddy Wood’s introduction brought exactly what Sydney needed, a bit of shit-stirring, and he was hauled down when darting unexpectedly between the last two Jets defenders, questions of a red card answered with a yellow. Wood was brilliant, he played a one-two soon after with fellow sub Victor Campuzano to go through, his shot under pressure saved and the rebound hit him and rolled towards goal, every Sydney fan praying the ball went the right side of the post, but it rolled agonisingly wide. The Newcastle-centric scoreboard operator was messing with the Sydney fans, failing to show the highlights of the away team’s chances and moments of contention, and the vision was cut before Wood had his shot. The away bays erupted in Forza Sydney FC instead. It was fabulous.
The last few minutes were very similar to the Socceroos v South Korea final of the Asian Cup, every Sydney fan on their feet singing the boys home, only to have their teeth kicked in by a sucker punch. We looked to have survived the onslaught when sub Xavier Bertonello cut inside and smashed a fierce shot an inch past the post and the chanting continued. Some fans had already left from the Newcastle home end. But the sucker punch was to come, well after the allotted time was up, and it was a cross from the left that found Eli Adams in space in the centre and he calmly guided the ball past HDM into the top corner for an equaliser. Cue bedlam. The spice being given by the Cove to the neighbouring bay was returned with interest, beer raining down from the prawn sandwich brigade up above, cans and bottles being launched into the Cove. It was poetic, it was warranted, and it was painful. The agony was complete a minute later with the final whistle condemning us to extra time, the shutters down on the bars and only the water bubbler for refreshment.
Extra time was exciting. The Jets were on the attack for much of it, Ben Gibson with a free header that HDM made look easy and then the Sydney keeper tipped over a rasping drive. The set pieces were taking forever – it had been a feature of the evening; so much for the eight second rule for goalkeepers, how about something similar for the refs for fannying around so much from free kicks and corners. Such a yawn-fest! There was a sweet moment in the Cove when the fans starting chanting Come On You Boys In Blue, the Newcastle fans in the rest of the stadium clapping in tune with the beat, albeit inadvertently, making it seem like a joint effort. Joe Lolley was introduced, Akon having run his heart out, and Lolley was the right sort of player to keep possession and make things happen on the break.
Wood, Campuzano and Lolley combined in the second period of extra time, Lolley’s cross from the right striking a defender and we all thought it was going in, but it dropped wide of the post again. The referee had a poor moment, trying and failing to get out of the way of a Sydney counter attack, earning jeers from the away bays – he had broken up a promising attack, definitely a card there, ref! Alexandar Popovic had a free header from an exquisite cross from Ahmet Arslan that was well saved, and Campuzano was right in front but couldn’t connect from a Lolley cross. It was hair-rising stuff. The game ended on a lull, Okon Jr letting a ball run out of play and Jets players down on the floor needing treatment – the referee blew for full time and we had penalties.
Up stepped Lolley with the first, the Jets keeper guessed right and pushed it away. Memories of Auckland FC in the Australia Cup were haunting us. Devenish-Meares brought out a Schwarzer-esque save to keep the first Jets penalty out, and we continued through the penalty shootout until Bertoncello had his saved, teeing up a John Aloisi moment for Garuccio, who made no mistake, sending the keeper the wrong way to rifle into the top corner for a thrilling penalty shootout victory in front of the Jets home end.
The players piled on up the far end. The away bays erupted, plenty of gentle banter for the departing masses in the bays next door. Meanwhile a fan, we couldn’t tell which persuasion but he was in black, was getting a hiding from the police in the concourse behind. The majority of the stadium emptied quickly, quite a disappointment from a Newcastle point of view, this now being the final match of the season and their players and fans denied an appropriate farewell after a brilliant campaign.
For Sydney FC it was extra-sweet. The players eventually made their way to the away bays – no one was going anywhere, the majority were on the buses anyway, who wouldn’t have left without them – and the mood was boistrous. The PA system was playing the part of pantomime villain, blasting unnecessary music out. Paddy Wood got the first chant, all the players joining in, ‘Oooh Sevenish Beers’ was next and the players linked hands and celebrated with the Cove. It was fantastic! Patrick Kisnorbo was now free from his post-match media duties and the players all went to him for a hug. How different the club is now that the negativity has gone – even someone like PK getting hugs; speaks volume about his predecessor.
It was now very late, 11pm or so. We wandered down the ramp past the buses and the packed car park, the traffic stuck in a standstill as we weaved through and onto the main road and up back to the car with the crowds. It was half time in the FA Cup final when we got home, so in the early hours; what a day we’d had, and it conjured up a desire to do it all again as soon as possible. Auckland FC v Sydney FC 6.10pm at Mount Smart; a wet week is coming up, park football may be cancelled in Sydney, but the initial look at flights indicated a severe dent in the FIFA World Cup budget that is probably going to kybosh any thoughts of heading to New Zealand next Saturday morning. Don’t discount one member of the Sydney Royals popping up at Go Media Stadium, if the club was to charter a couple of flights you never know, stranger things have happened. Grand final week, drink it in!
