The Perfect Punter Week 28: The rest is noise

Italian Football / Perfect Punter / 17 February 2010 / Leave a Comment

A few thousand people whom the Perfect Punter hopes won't be following him

"The first half was unpleasant, the second was downright frightening... I can still see the face of a huge Vicente Del Bosque lookalike trying to climb the Perspex wall..."

After a quiet Sunday afternoon in Naples, Dave Farrar explains how an intense, partisan match atmosphere can some times inhibit players and make for a cagey, low scoring contest...

One of Ian Botham's favourite sayings, and one which I'm sure will be wheeled out again this winter in all of its oh-you-are-a-one-Beefy glory is: "Australia is a great country, but it needs a population transplant." There's a similar piece of homespun wisdom that Italians often use about Naples: "Wonderful city", they say, "if it wasn't for the Neapolitans." I've never liked the attitude that many Italians, particularly those in other major cities, have towards Naples, but on Sunday night, with great regret, I started to see what they meant.

In an early Perfect Punter blogs, I wrote about a night in Palermo that felt special. It was the Wednesday evening when lightning flashed all around the Renzo Barbera, Totti and Miccoli smiled before the game, and there just seemed to be a special feeling in the air, a sense that we were in for a spectacular game. I suggested that instinct can be as important in gambling as research, and that there was nothing naïve or foolish in betting on goals in that game just because it felt right. The match finished 3-3, and the instinct turned out to be correct, and I was surprised by the number of people who read that column and said that they agreed with the importance of following your senses, rather than just relying on bare statistics.

The stats will often be factored into a price, and there's an argument that instinct is what gives you an edge. When judging the way that a football match will go, though, don't confuse a sense of occasion off the pitch with your feelings about what might happen on it. That "special feeling" in Palermo wasn't about the press and the supporters talking the game up; I was focusing on two sets of players who seemed relaxed and ready to entertain on a slick pitch which would allow them to. When you're having a bet, the game is the thing, and the rest is just noise.

On Sunday night, Napoli played Inter and I was there. Not just there, but there four hours before kick off to make sure that I could negotiate the mayhem around the San Paolo. It is a fantastic place to experience, the closest thing in Europe to one of the big, crumbling South American grounds, but the mass of 65,000 people, many of whom don't have tickets, trying to shove their way past elderly stewards to get nearer to their heroes, creates something very close to chaos.

Napoli were desperate to win, to remind Inter that they exist, and to move themselves back into that fourth Champions League spot which they see as their destiny this season. On the face of things, it was another special night which should have produced a classic, a night when instincts might lead you to feel that there would be goals. And yet, as I've mentioned before, it's important to watch the players, to see their body language when they come out to warm up, and to see the way that they start the game. The Napoli players looked hesitant, a little scared at what was ahead. The deafening noise was drowning their talent, not allowing it to flourish. This crowd wasn't a positive: it wanted to win too much, and it was anything but beautiful.

I was sitting next to the Inter club commentator, wedged in the back left hand corner of the press box, next to a mass of Napoli fans. They soon realised that the gentleman next to me wasn't supporting their cause, and when Marek Hamsyk hit the bar, and it became clear that Inter were weathering the storm and that, in fact, there wasn't much of a storm, the insults started to rain in on him.

The first half was unpleasant, the second was downright frightening. Every time Napoli went close, the invective grew louder, and then spit started to hit the Inter commentator, and what missed him, hit me. The Perspex wall separating us from the fans looked flimsier by the minute. I was commentating and praying that Inter didn't score all at the same time. Goran Pandev will always have a special place in my heart for missing a second half sitter.

The story ended with the noise of the fans submerging the game, which finished 0-0, and then the fans turning on the two of us. I can still see the face of a huge Vicente Del Bosque lookalike trying to climb the Perspex wall and nearly succeeding. He meant business, but couldn't quite get to us, although one or two fans did get close to our group of four or five, and then wished they hadn't.

As well as watching my back in Naples, the lesson is simple, and worth remembering. The atmosphere around a game can have a hugely positive impact on what happens on the field. Noise and passion can mean goals, and plenty of them. But it can also do the opposite, and stop players expressing themselves. Napoli are unbeaten at home this season, but Sunday was their fifth 0-0 draw of the campaign. If those fans could care a little less, then maybe the San Paolo would again be a place where it was worth watching football.

You can follow the Perfect Punter, and in particular, his journey back to Naples in two weeks time, on Twitter. Go to twitter.com/perfectpunter and enjoy the bedlam of European stadia from the comfort of your computer screen.