Looking a picture is one thing, creating an atmosphere is another

THE fans' verdict was definitive: the atmosphere at Foote's Lane was dull and superficial. Since Monday's Muratti, punters haven't stopped complaining about being too far away from the action and about the distinct lack of noise and passion on the terraces.

Well, forgive my smugness, but I did tell you that Foote's Lane wasn't the right venue for Muratti football.

Back in October 2001, in my old Inside Soccer column, I wrote: 'One of the biggest problems with Foote's Lane will be the inevitable lack of atmosphere.

'It is a nonsense to imagine that a football ground surrounded by a 10-metre athletics track will foster the same kind of intense, passionate atmosphere as a traditional venue.'

I was derided as a dinosaur and laughed at as a nostalgic no-hoper by local sport's movers and shakers. They were the same people who were seated in the plush seats in the gleaming Garenne Stand on Monday.

I was with them and what a great time we all had, although a half-time refreshment would have gone down a treat. More of that later, though. The point here is that for comfort, convenience and style, Foote's Lane - or more particularly the wonderful Garenne Stand - is unbeatable. And the decibel count in the seats wasn't too bad, either.

But when you're standing watching a game of football, as 80% of the Muratti crowd was, it makes not a jot of difference whether you're opposite a sparkling, state-of-the-art facility such as the Garenne Stand or a shabby, old-fashioned pavilion such as at the Track.

The crucial factor for the 3,800-plus spectators who weren't in the Garenne Stand was the atmosphere around the ground. And there was none.

I don't take any comfort in writing this, but I think the ordinary (real) fans now know exactly what I was getting at back in October 2001.

In Tuesday's Guernsey Press, my colleague Rob Turville blamed the supporters for the Foote's Lane flop. Well, I disagree profoundly with his sentiments.

A Muratti crowd, home or away, is usually noisy, passionate, excited and slightly intimidating. It's been like that since the Vase was first played for in 1905.

The attendance on Monday was 4,500, more than a thousand up on recent years, the type of people attending hadn't changed and the football was at least as enthralling as I've seen on local soil.

The difference, of course, was the venue.

It wasn't the bumper crowd's fault that the atmosphere resembled a morgue more than an inter-insular showdown. It was the ground's fault. The sheer distance between the players and their supporters killed the traditional Muratti intensity and rivalry on the terraces.

The facility, forgetting spectators for a moment, is brilliant, as I always knew it would be.

Project leader Stuart Falla is a man who gets things done and generally those things turn out to be massive successes. His Island Games baby, the spirit of which is captured at Foote's Lane, will be no different: the event will be a fantastic triumph.

And sportsmen and women are well catered for at the new stadium. Although the pitch is not yet comparable to the brilliance of Springfield, the dressing rooms are much bigger, more practical and more luxurious and the venue caters for a more diverse range of activities.

But the bumper, record-topping crowd was let down on Muratti day.

Vale Rec manager Ray Blondel this week expressed his dissatisfaction with the atmosphere on Monday. He claimed to have spoken to several like-minded fans.

'The supporters have been criticised for not cheering on their team and I think they're a bit irate about that,' said the former Muratti matchwinner.

'They tried to make noise, but they were too far away and they couldn't be heard. It was out of their hands. I'm in no doubt that the venue killed the atmosphere.

'I understand that they couldn't let fans on the running track, but maybe they could have put them on the grass behind the goals. I'm sure they could have channelled a few there and there were enough security people around to control them.'

Blondel, who reserved high praise for the facilities at the new stadium, knows what big-game atmosphere should be all about. Perhaps someone of his calibre can succeed where I have thus far failed in trying to reverse the prostitution of our greatest sporting occasion.

On the aforementioned subject of half-time refreshments, it was a little disappointing for the couple of hundred fans who had managed to buy Garenne Stand tickets, but who weren't invited to the prawn sandwich festival to be denied even a small bottle of water and a two-fingered Kit Kat at the interval.

Try as I did to get hold of a cup of tap water, I was told that refreshments were available only for invited guests. A young lad seated in the row in front of me ventured out of the stand and around the ground to the portable Munch Box only to miss half the second half because of the length of the queue.

I understand that matchday manager Darren Duquemin suggested asking vendors to walk in front of the stand with light refreshments at half time, but for some illogical reason his advice was ignored.

I should point out that Duquemin, the best matchday manager in the Muratti's history, once again did a fantastic job.

He did his best to make the players feel special and the fans feel a part of the show. The fireworks, the music, the programme, the pre-match publicity and the superb presentation ceremony that never was didn't just happen; they were all down to Duquemin's foresight, hard work and nose for a good idea.

But even he couldn't pump life into a crowd that was obviously depressed, disappointed and thoroughly cheesed-off to be watching THEIR big match so far away from the action.

It was a worthwhile experiment, guys, but it failed.

Foote's Lane might be perfect for athletics and rugby, it might be suitable for less important football matches, but it's the wrong place for the Muratti.

And this time it's not just a cynical journalist saying it. Hundreds of punters seemed to feel the same way.