Matt Walker: The World Through Football

There are many ways to see the world through football. You can follow your club across borders. You can collect stadiums, chase derbies and finals, or build a life around the fixture list.

Matt Walker chose something considerably more ambitious. In 2017/18, the Fulham fan from London set out to do what no supporter had done before: watch a top-division match in every one of UEFA’s 55 member nations in a single season.

Some people dream about it over a pint. Matt actually did it. He swapped a government analyst’s desk and a season ticket at Craven Cottage for night trains, budget flights and border crossings, travelling from Iceland to Azerbaijan and from Gibraltar to Kazakhstan, with blood thinners in his bag and a notepad full of starting line-ups. Along the way he stood on the terraces of derbies and dead rubbers alike, from the fire of Kraków to the quiet magic of Felcsút, and chose the underdog over the superclub almost every time.

The result was Europe United: 1 Football Fan. 1 Crazy Season. 55 UEFA Nations (riverrun, 2019), one of the most honest and joyful portraits of European football culture ever written. Since then, Matt has kept travelling, from Oman and Madagascar to Argentina and Kyrgyzstan, and kept writing about what he finds.

For O4, we wanted to understand what happens when football becomes more than something you watch, when it becomes a way of understanding places, people and the cultures that surround the game. Our paths first crossed at Lokomotiva Zagreb, and years later we sat down with Matt to talk about the idea, the road, the stadiums and the strangers who became friends.

This is The World Through Football.

THE IDEA

Where were you when the idea first hit you, and what did you leave behind: the job, the season ticket, the routine?

I was at my London home in December 2015 when I had the idea. I needed a change from my job as an analyst in the government and something of a challenge. I felt that becoming the first football fan to watch a top division match in all 55 UEFA nations over a single season was the perfect fit. It combined my passions of football and travel, and gave me the opportunity to write my first book. I left behind a regular income, structure and my Fulham season ticket, but sometimes you have to take a calculated risk in life.

When you boarded the plane to Georgia in June 2017, what was in your bag - and what were you feeling?

My camera and some syringes. I had developed a blood clot in my leg and needed to inject blood thinners into my bruised stomach. Not exactly my travel dream. I felt some trepidation as I had so many places, countries and games to visit. But I was also very excited as I had no idea how the trip would develop. This wasn’t conventional tourism with a list of sights to see. It was being shaped by football and the randomness of the matches I would watch, and the people I would meet.

ON THE ROAD

Which match is the first image that comes to mind when you close your eyes and think of that year, and why that one?

Trabzonspor 3-4 Alanyaspor. I have never seen a team canter into a 3-0 lead by half-time and then lose 4-3, let alone to a mid-table side like Alanyaspor. There was an incredible atmosphere in the one-club city and the stadium that, understandably, collapsed after the defeat. We then waited for hours in stadium traffic to get back to Trabzon city centre. But there have been happier times recently on the Turkish Black Sea coast. Trabzonspor won the 2022 title, former Trabzonspor goalkeeper Uğurcan Çakır became a Turkey national team regular and, of course, there was unbridled excitement when Mohamed Salah signed for the team this summer.

What was the biggest logistical nightmare of the journey - a missed flight, a closed border, a cancelled match, or something completely unexpected?

It was probably when I went to the wrong airport in Iceland. I took the bus to Keflavik International Airport, but my plane to the Faroe Islands took off from the smaller Reykjavik Airport, near the city centre. I took a very expensive taxi (£135) and a mobile call from the taxi driver to Atlantic Airways held the flight. Flights from Iceland to Vágar Airport in the Faroe Islands now take off from Keflavik, although there isn’t thought to be a link between my airport confusion and this switch.

Describe the strangest or most unexpected stadium you visited. What did it look, smell and sound like?

My favourite stadium was the controversial Pancho Arena in Felcsút, home to Puskás Akadémia and where former Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán grew up. Much of the stadium is built out of wood and it has an ethereal, almost mystical feel, unlike any other. I would love to visit for an evening match when the lighting would make it look like a forest under a moonlit sky.

Walk us through a typical matchday, from the morning in an unfamiliar town to the journey back to your hostel.

I would start with writing down the starting line-ups from both clubs’ previous match in my trusty notepad. I sometimes even watched highlights to get an idea of their style of play and star players. This helped provide some context and open conversations with fans. I would always try to eat in advance of kick-off given food options in stadiums were often limited. I recall a long wait for a meal in Armenia that nearly compromised my match at the Republican Stadium. I had to learn from these mistakes and eat early!

I would arrive at the stadium between one and one and a half hours before kick-off. This would give me some contingency should transport be delayed, although I always preferred walking to a stadium if possible. Arriving early was perfect for taking a few photographs, and I always asked someone to take a photograph of me in front of every stadium, useful for promotion and interviews such as this. It was often the hardcore fans that turned up early, so I would have an eye on people who were open for a conversation, especially if I hadn’t had a chance to speak to supporters around the city.

I would take a few photographs during the match and write some notes about the game and atmosphere. I have developed my match watching style and now take fewer notes about what has happened on the pitch, unless it is really extraordinary, and fewer photographs as well. I would always support the home team, and could get quite invested in the result, as I knew it would affect the atmosphere in the stadium, and potentially the entire city. 

After the match, I would sometimes go for a drink with supporters, or even the home team on one occasion, but often I was tired, hungry or had some early morning transport to my next destination. I always tried to type up my match notes that evening whilst the memories were fresh.

Which atmosphere surprised you the most, for better or worse?

Generally, I was impressed by the atmosphere at some of the mid-ranking European leagues, such as Sweden, Switzerland and Poland. I knew the Kraków derby between Cracovia and Wisła, which features on the cover of Europe United, was going to be explosive. But to see ardent fans, full of colour and noise, watching Swedish side Hammarby or Swiss team St. Gallen was more of a surprise.

Was there a moment when you genuinely thought you wouldn’t make it - or that you had made a terrible mistake?

Apart from the Icelandic airport confusion, the main problem I encountered was when my Albanian fixture at Flamurtari Vlorë was played behind closed doors owing to crowd trouble at a previous match. I used a print out of the Guardian interview to convince the authorities to let me in. Other than that, I sometimes had to switch my planned fixtures, especially as they were often changed to cater for television or European competitions, but weather, pandemics and geopolitics were on my side, something that hasn’t been the case since 2017/18. I also didn’t get sick, but I rarely get ill, even from travels across 114 countries.

Was there a particular person you met along the way - a fan, a driver, a stranger - who changed the way you saw a country or football itself?

I met Eric on the train from Almaty to Taraz in Kazakhstan. Eric was a Manchester United fan and spoke enough English to become my translator, tour guide and friend. He accompanied me everywhere in Taraz. Eric spoke to the club on my behalf, took me to a local market and paid for my lunch and haircut. He even bought my ticket to Taraz v Aktobe but, given entrance cost 70p for adults and 12p for children, I didn’t feel too guilty about this act of kindness. But Eric was a gem of a person who I will never forget.

FOOTBALL & PLACE

How did you choose your matches? And what made you look beyond the biggest clubs and capital cities?

It was always my intention to try to watch footballing underdogs, so my travels took me to Crotone in Italy, ADO Den Haag in the Netherlands and Ross County in Scotland. I probably got a more personal experience there than in their big city cousins. Sometimes I was chasing a story, such as when I visited surprise 2016 Finnish champions IFK Mariehamn and sailed to the Åland Islands. Other times, my choice was down to logistics. There was no top division match in Almaty or Astana when I was in Kazakhstan so I needed to watch my match in the under-visited Silk Road city of Taraz. And I got to meet Eric.

What surprised you most about the differences in fan culture from Iceland to Azerbaijan - and what, underneath all those differences, felt universal?

One visible difference was whether the ultra culture was present or not, regardless of the size of league. I saw flares and ritualistic chanting in Germany and the Netherlands, but also in Macedonia and Slovakia. But this isn’t something you’ll see so much in England or Spain, where fans absorb the game, and react to what is happening on the pitch. But, regardless of whether there are fan fireworks or the attendance, I found fans really cared about their club, and its relative position in the league hierarchy. Football is the number one sport across almost all of Europe and clubs help promote a city’s identity, perhaps even more so than before in post-industrial towns.

What is a country’s football identity for you? Can you feel it at the stadium gate?

Definitely. The first thing you notice is what the fan base looks like. Is it lots of old guys reminiscing about the golden days, as is the case in some Eastern European leagues, or more of a mixed crowd? The Nordic leagues were especially noticeable for seeing crowds with lots of women and children. It almost had the feel of a picnic or family day out. Meanwhile, the crowd in some leagues, noticeably in the Balkans, was almost exclusively male. I recently watched league football in Saudi Arabia and there were more women in attendance at Al Hilal and Al Ahli than in some European leagues, something that wouldn’t have been the case until recently.

What did you discover in the smaller football nations that you would never have found in Europe’s biggest leagues? Did you ever arrive somewhere with one idea of a country and leave with another?

Top division football is more accessible in smaller football nations, with lower ticket costs, especially compared to England and Spain. But watching a local team is an alternative activity, which attracts different people to the mainstream football of the big leagues. I started watching my club Fulham in the lower tiers of English football, and there is something of that ambience when watching top division football in the likes of Latvia and Luxembourg. It’s something of a cult.

When I arrived in 2017, I had last visited Russia in 1998, so a lot had changed over two decades. It was a dark place back then with some questionable food. But the hospitality of the Russian people was great. I thoroughly enjoyed watching football in the unlikely towns of Ufa and Tula, where I bumped into Nikita, a young football fan who watched Spartak Moscow at Ufa and his home team Arsenal Tula play on consecutive days. The food had also improved considerably, and there was even a nascent craft beer scene, not just Baltika and vodka!

What can a football club reveal about a society that statistics and results cannot?

Football clubs are a collective passion. It’s not necessarily about the match, and certainly not about the result. It is about bringing people together in a way that few other things can. And people do want that physical community, not just online conversations. I am passionate about certain niche interests, such as heavy metal and wildlife conservation, but there is something universal about football that can influence so many different things, from politics to street art. “Football is the most important not so important thing in life” is a line from you that I quoted in Europe United. And it’s still true.

You watched football across the Balkans. Is there a story from the region - and Croatia in particular - that has stayed with you?

I watched two matches in Croatia, at Lokomotiva Zagreb, where I met you Ivan, and Istra 1961. Midfielder Ivan Šunjić, another Ivan, played really well for Lokomotiva and made my Best XI from my European travels. I called him a “mini-Modrić” in Europe United. I’ve since followed his career to Birmingham City and from a one-time Croatia international to a Bosnia and Herzegovina regular. Of course, the real Modrić is still playing for Croatia, although he probably wished he hadn’t been on the pitch for that 0-7 defeat to England in Rijeka!

Istra were having a torrid season in 2017/18 and I recall asking a local supporter where a good place to sit would be to watch their match against reigning champions Rijeka. ‘Nowhere’ was his response.

COMING HOME

Who came back to London: the same man who left?

I was very tired. I had travelled so much and needed to not travel for a while. I had become more knowledgeable about some of the challenges of being a European football fan. And, perhaps, a little more savvy as a football traveller. I had also developed a rich network of football contacts, some of whom I am still in contact with today. Like you, Ivan.

What’s next? After everything you’ve seen, what kind of football story still has the power to make you pack a bag and leave?

I’ve been fortunate to travel widely since my European adventure, including watching matches in Oman, Madagascar, Argentina and Kyrgyzstan, and attending major tournaments in Egypt, Ivory Coast, Morocco and Mexico. But these have been isolated trips and articles that I’ve published on my website. I’ve been yearning for another coherent project. So I am leaving London for South East Asia next month to explore the football landscape of the region’s dozen or so countries. And hopefully I will uncover lots of stories and write another book.

FINAL WHISTLE

The achievement is impressive: 55 UEFA nations, countless matches, more than 100 countries travelled and enough stories to fill books. But the numbers are not really the point. The deeper story is what happens when football becomes your reason to enter a place. A match can take you to a city you would otherwise never visit. A stadium can introduce you to people you would otherwise never meet.

Matt, thank you. For the time you gave us, for the stories, and for reminding all of us why football is so much more than ninety minutes and a result. Thank you for Eric in Taraz, for the Istra supporter whose one-word answer said it all, and for the mini-Modrić. Above all, thank you for showing that a football ground is still one of the best places to get to know a country.

As you head for South East Asia, everyone at O4 wishes you many, many more exotic stadiums, unexpected comebacks, cheap tickets, kind strangers and late winners. Safe travels, and we can’t wait to read the next book.