"The big day "
Early afternoon in Moscow on UEFA Champions League final day, less than a football-pitch length away from Red Square, the lobby of the grand Ritz Carlton was teeming. And there, in among the flow of guests and visitors, fans, journalists, staff scurrying from one request to another, were the Chelsea FC squad. The tracksuited Blues could not walk more than two steps without a hand shake, pat on the back, or autograph request. As skipper John Terry walked past, the cries of "John! John!" crescendoed.
Some 11 kilometres to the west, near the World Trade Centre, away from the city's frenetic core in a low-key business hotel, the Manchester United FC players were relaxing. Whether they were organising one of their traditional team quizzes is not known, but they were far away from supporters and the media bustle. United went on to win the trophy, but it is unlikely that the choice of hotel played any part in that victory.
Players frequently while away hours in hotels, but the UEFA Champions League final is different. How do they pass the time in the build-up? They have a mantra: the final is just like any other match, they insist.
Club staff do all they can to keep the team's routine as regular as possible - simple meals, a light training session, afternoon nap - but surely they're fighting a losing battle? Liverpool FC defender Jamie Carragher certainly felt so in 2005. "We knew the key was to approach the game like any other. But that's easier said than done. In fact, it's impossible. People are ringing and texting wishing you luck, there's a clamour for tickets, and the buzz is unbearable," he says of his experience in Istanbul.
Sports psychologist Andy Barton agrees. "It depends very much on the person. They will try to make it as normal as possible, but will they succeed? I don't think that's very likely," he says. "Some players are at their best when pumped up, full of adrenalin. So they will embrace days like this. They come to the fore in high-pressure matches. Others need to calm themselves down and relax."
But this isn't any game, it's a European Cup final. Teams set off earlier than during the season, often spending a couple of days in or around the final city. In 1967, Celtic FC spent a few days in the resort of Estoril relaxing around the hotel pool, but only for 30 minutes at a time because their coach Jock Stein said too much sun would tire them out. The night before the game they went to a golf club, owned by a Scot, to watch England play before what turned out to be an eventful walk back to the hotel. "All we had to do was go down this country road, cut along the sea front and then we would be back at our hotel," recalls Celtic defender Jim Craig. "It was dark by this time and Neilly Mochan said, 'There's our hotel just over the field - let's take a short cut'. So there we were, the night before a European Cup final, and the whole first team end up clambering over a wall, into a field, and over a couple of fences. It was a lunatic thing to do."
Golf played a part in preparations nine years later when FC Bayern München were targeting their third successive title. Being veterans of the competition didn't stifle the nerves and, holed up in a county hotel in Troon, they were inspired by the golfing set to give it a go to help them relax. "The need for a team to have fun is essential at these times," says Barton. "They should do something to get team spirit going."
Around midday in Istanbul, Rafa Benitez's then assistant Pako Ayesteran gave the squad a choice: go shopping or ten-pin bowling nearby. They chose the skittles. “I think Pako was disappointed," says Carragher. "But we just wanted to enjoy ourselves, have a laugh. "They might have needed it after sitting through the movie Meet The Fockers, an earlier team-building exercise.
Distractions from the game are essential as a way of shifting a player's focus. "If you focus on football for several hours before you play, you'll get overloaded and worn out," says Barton. In Moscow Chelsea had a different focus, but was that a bad thing?
"It depends how controlled it is, but I'd lean towards bowling - you're focusing on something different and relaxing, you're not being bothered by things. I'd veer away from the fans to be honest."
The Bayern squad didn't come into contact with many fans on the west coast of Scotland in 1976, but they did run into the Rolling Stones, who were staying at the same hotel. They were invited to a practice session, where Mick Jagger told them they would win. He was right.
Olympique de Marseille's Basile Boli was big into music. He was not fully fit at the time of the 1993 final and haunted by thoughts he wouldn't play, so he was delighted when his best friend Chris Waddle turned up at his hotel. "Having Chris there really cheered me up," he says. "He had the latest Wet Wet Wet album and a Bon Jovi album and recommended which songs to listen to. He put a smile back on my face."
Sometimes injured players come along to boost morale. In 1971, Ruud Krol, sidelined for AFC Ajax's final against Panathinaikos FC at Wembley, acted as a kind of cheerleader with fans before the game.
One routine that does continue during this time is, of course, training. In 2004, Jose Mourinho kept his FC Porto charges away from fans, training in an empty stadium, but in 1960, thousands turned up to watch Real Madrid CF train at Kilmarnock's Rugby Park before their final. The majority were in awe of the skills on show, and probably the sight of Francisco Gento taking to the field with a cigarette. He did throw it down once he began running. "I was quite nervous," he says. "And I always liked to smoke. Not a lot, but enough to get rid of the nerves."
Many of the Real team took things easy that night with some light shooting practice against Alfredo Di Stefano in goal after turning out for Spain just a few days earlier. Their opponents Eintracht Frankfurt opted for a sail on the Firth of Clyde.
Eating the right thing at the right time is not something a footballer has to worry about. Club dieticians see to that. FC Internazionale Milano's coach Helenio Herrera was particularly focused on diet, banning bread from the dining room where players ate a pre-match meal of risotto made with olive oil, and occasionally beef. In 1964, as Sandro Mazzola prepared for his first European Cup final, he and his roommate Luis Suarez ate with the squad before retiring to their room where they had their "real dinner" of French wine, bread, cheese and chorizo, all smuggled in Suarez's bag.
When the day comes around, whatever the distractions and subterfuge, it is hard not to think about the actual game. This is not a taboo, it's a good thing, says Barton. "Players should put the final in their minds in a positive way. Try to relax, let the positive images - big crowd, arena, feelings of performing well - come to them. They should picture themselves playing a good pass or incisive cross, thinking about the player they will be coming up against."
Could they dare to envisage winning the trophy? "That's a tricky one. It's useful to believe you can do it, but if you're thinking about it when you go out on the pitch, your mind is not focusing on the here and now. Most thought should be on performance because that's what leads to the trophy.”
Cakes probably shouldn't enter the equation. But they didn't do AC Milan any harm in 1989. Mauro Tassotti had the blessing of his coach, Arrigo Sacchi, when he followed his pre-match meal with a slice of fruit cake: "The nutritionist didn't like us to eat sweet things, but Sacchi didn't mind."
As kick-off draws closer, a player's routine becomes essential. "They want to be pumped up going into the dressing room," says Barton. "Then routines keep them centred on what they're doing rather than the game. Here all their superstitions can begin." And then it's time. When the bowling and the quiz, the music and the mental rehearsals are done, it's time for the game.
