I travelled on 1 July, 2009, but I simply wasn’t ready for the welcome I received at Ankara Esenboga Airport. There were thousands of supporters there to greet me, with flags, shirts and they made such a noise; I was totally taken aback, I’d never experienced anything like this before. There were people holding up welcome banners, flares were set off and every television camera available seemed to be pointed at me.
I must have looked like a rabbit in headlights when I walked out of the airport doors and into the madness. People were bouncing up and down, chanting: “Dar-ee-us Varr-sell, Dar-ee-us Varr-sell, Olé, Olé, Olé!” As I made my way through the crowds, I was given a club scarf to wear and then another couple of scarves and a shirt was draped over me.
A young woman handed me a blue and yellow bouquet of flowers, the club’s colours, and it soon became a real scrum to get to the waiting cars, with people pushing their way through to get close to me. It was the kind of reception you would have expected for a world leader, someone like Nelson Mandela, or a rock star, not an English footballer visiting a Turkish football club.
I must have looked like a rabbit in headlights when I walked out of the airport doors and into the madness. People were bouncing up and down, chanting: “Dar-ee-us Varr-sell, Dar-ee-us Varr-sell, Olé, Olé, Olé!” As I made my way through the crowds, I was given a club scarf to wear and then another couple of scarves and a shirt was draped over me.
A young woman handed me a blue and yellow bouquet of flowers, the club’s colours, and it soon became a real scrum to get to the waiting cars, with people pushing their way through to get close to me. It was the kind of reception you would have expected for a world leader, someone like Nelson Mandela, or a rock star, not an English footballer visiting a Turkish football club.
I felt like the goat looked at me
A nice read.
