Global Sport Stories

Salmon sausages, food sold through the fence and water in plastic bags… oh and some half decent football to suit as well. 

Forget your half time chicken balti pies and your complaints about not being able to take water bottle caps into stadiums, that’s so England. This is the Indonesian Premier League, where the universal language of football is spoken proudly, where traditional drumbeat invigorates classic chants and where salmon sausages are considered THE half time morsel.

Let me set the scene. You’ve just hopped off the back of a motorbike, costing you 50p for your troubles, and arrive at the Kapten Wayan Dipta Stadium – home to reigning Indonesian champions, Bali United Football Club. The sky is overcast, yet still you sweat; the air heavy with local anticipation to match the humid conditions. 

You’re not allowed the plastic bottle or cap inside the Kapten Wayan Dipta Stadium. Instead, you find yourself armed with a plastic bag full of water, a straw and a vicious dilemma about how you can place your drink down without soaking those around you. Speaking of those around you, it appears to be a free for all for seats, in which you are most likely nestled between hopeful locals and fellow sweaty tourists. Upon kickoff, the tone is set, and sudden realisation kicks in – this really isn’t English football.

Today’s visitors are newly promoted Semen Padang, who have made the four and a half hour flight from the island of Sumatra in the hope of kick starting their season at the second time of asking.

Tenacious tackles break up periods of slick, fluid football cascading repeatedly from one end to the other. Somehow the one touch football completely bypasses the ultimately, non existent midfield. Would Pep approve? Probably not. But when the first Bali attack fires into life, the approval of thousands of hopeful Balinese makes you know you are in for a spectacle.

To your right, who you dub the ‘Bali Ultras’ are behind the goal, forever vocal and clad completely in black. The odd speckle of red seems to signify a rogue tourist has found their way behind the goal – failing badly to fit in in their knock off Bali strip; more likely than not brought for 100,000 IDR (£5) from the nearby street vendor. 

Back on the pitch, the game continues to flow, which makes you question whether the referee has forgotten his whistle. Ambitious through balls and last ditch defending is accompanied by the soundtrack of the most exuberant and spine tingling rendition of ‘You’ll never walk alone’. You take this as a subtle nod back to familiarity, yet the rhythmic drumming and perfect vocals reminds you this is anything but familiar. 

The half time whistle blows signifying a pause in the football, but just the next chapter in cultural understandings. Given a stamp ensuring re-entry, you exit the stadium in search of the Indonesian equivalent of a half time pie. Paper notes pass hands through the fence between local street vendors and punters, enticed by Indonesian dishes: tempe, nasi goreng  and chicken satay skewers. What you thought were two hotdogs that you purchased for 50p turn out to be salmon sausages… a remarkable and indescribable concept, yet one that makes you go back for more.

The half time singer has wrapped up and you are back in your seats, serenaded by the Bali Ultras, this time to the song of ‘When The Reds Go Marching In’.

It does not take long for the second half to spark into life, with Bali United taking the lead in the 50th minute to an explosion of noise and hoopla. Almost impossibly this excitement is doubled on the 54th minute; two nil to the reigning champions.

The party atmosphere has well and truly begun, as the poznan provides the sense that there is no desire to take the foot off the gas, as may be expected back home. The Bali Ultras’ drummer seems to be working overtime, providing barrages of rhythm around the stadium.  

The party ensues a momentary interruption at the hands of a well worked Semen Padang goal. It’s at this point you realise that there are actually away fans, however sparse they may be.

The child in front of you hopefully gestures for a VAR check. Wishful thinking right? Yet, to your dismay, the child’s wishes are granted. Who knew the Indonesian Premier League had VAR?

After a lengthy check that makes the English system look somewhat adequate, the party kicks back into action. “No Goal – Offside.” This seems to deflate the Semen Padang comeback efforts, with Bali United playing with a new found arrogance. 

The match finishes two nil, Bali United making it two wins from their opening two. Jubilous faces filter through the exits and you book your 50p ride home which turns up in a matter of minutes. Sifting through the traffic you reflect upon the the last two hours celebration provided by football, consisting of a ridiculously rhythmic sound track, frivolous football and marvellously quizzical culinary cuisine.

“Suksma” Bali United, you just gained one more fan.