UEFA Cup Round of 32 1st Leg
19th February 2009
attendance 30,159
scorers
City Onuoha(29), Ireland(61)
Copenhagen Almeida(56), Vingaard(90)
City Given, Richards, Dunne, Onuoha, Bridge, Zabaleta, Kompany, Ireland, Wright-Phillips, Robinho, Bellamy – subs Caicedo(89), Hart(unused), Garrido(unused), Weiss(unused), Vassell(unused), Elano(unused), Evans(unused)
Copenhagen Christiansen, Pospech, Norregaard, Laursen, Almeida, Kvist, Santin, Hutchinson, Antonsson, Kristensen, Wendt – subs Gronkjaer(70), Vingaard(60), N’Doye(59), Jensen(unused), Nordstran(unused), Jorgensen(unused), Coe(unused)
From NEDUM ONUOHA, KICKING BACK
… Stevie Ireland and I were walking onto the pitch at the Parken and looked to the right. There was no stand. There should have been a giant two tier structure to match the other three sides of the ground, but it was being redeveloped so instead there was a huge canvas sheet with a picture of a stand on it, complete with cheering fans.
“If I score, I’m celebrating over there.” I promised Stevie. I must have said “If I score…” on a hundred occasions before games, and the vast majority of times it hadn’t worked out. Stevie had been there for most of them and rolled his eyes. The next night, with half an hour gone against FC Copenhagen, Stevie rolled me the ball. We were kicking towards the building site, and even though I was playing centre back for some reason I found myself in on goal. Running through, one-on-one with the goalkeeper, I looked to my right. Craig Bellamy was there, asking for the ball to be squared to him. Alarm bells should have been going off in my head: I must play it to him; he would have a simple tap in. But something else was in my mind. I thought I was Thierry Henry.
Let me do this, I thought to myself. Very ballsy. I shaped my body to open up the angle and took aim. Sweeping my right lag forward, I imagined all the balletic grace of my French idol and completely miss-hit it off my heel. I panicked; Bella was going to kill me. It was a horrible strike. So horrible that it completely fooled the goalkeeper. I looked up to see it trickle under him and go in, nowhere near the corner. Relief washed over me , mainly because I wasn’t going to perish at Bellamy’s hand, and then I kept my promise. I celebrated in front of the stand that didn’t exist with the fake fans drawn into a big sheet…
