Sochaux pretty vigorously are heading towards the French 2nd division equivalent even if there are more candidates to share this sad fate just in the closing phase of the season. Bordeaux, ranked 8. i.e. just behind the leading teams (thus in the race for European Cups championship qualification) left no shadow of doubt of their supremacy on that Sunday afternoon. The “Peugeot Factory” Team disappointed entirely and they owe even more painful defeat to a sort of mercy the opponents showed, and by the Bordeaux player #14 in particular. Diabate, for the reasons clear only to himself (194 cm height + agility of an elephant), decided to become a football striker and almost each contact with the ball, instead of ensuring a smooth finish, finished with the audience laughter instead.

I have never been particularly fond of Obraniak’s style of play, yet I have to admit he can see a lot on the pitch, is able to change the game rhythm thanks to which he became one of the key players of Bordeaux. This was particularly to be seen in the second half when the team’s captain Plasil was in charge of much more defensive tasks. In the Sochaux team, a lack of leader is painful, the player #10 (Algerian Boudebouz) seemed to be happy with the number on his back, that’s it. Two red cards made the disaster complete although at least one of the referee’s decisions was doubtful. The other one from the Polish “imported” internationals, Damien Perquis, was recovering from injury and must have been seriously worried while looking at his team mates’ efforts. It is worth noting the match had been almost sold out and this despite totally discouraging weather, and the event organization including gates throughput, catering quality etc was really perfect.

We visited the Peugeot museum prior to the match (ca. 2 km from the stadium). Very attractive and memory refreshing collection: I bet very few would know the company used to manufacture also sewing and washing machines along with radio sets. Free entrance, photos allowed. A pity though the glamorous past is not being caught up by a somewhat miserable presence. C’est la vie…