Supertaca: FC Porto vs Braga
As I finished buttoning up my shirt and slipped my blazer on with the badge of Braga sewn perfectly in position where my heart is, I took a deep breath before walking out of my new home. I was told by the chief Travel Organiser, Nuno to make my way down to our home stadium by four o'clock in the afternoon. I unlocked my Range Rover which was sat at the bottom of my driveway and revved up the engine. It sounded beautiful, I bought this car about April time and it's amazing.
15:54 PM: I parked up just outside the Estádio AXA. What a beautiful sight it is, I spent a lot of money and time walking up the steps to my seat. Now I'm in the dugout, managing. It's been amazing how far I'd come since I was working as a solicitor last year. What a boring job, I thought.
Here's the bus now. We had our own private bus, with the badge painted with the club's colours. How great is that?!
19:00 PM: We'd finally arrived in Aveiro, at the Estádio Municipal de Aveiro stadium. Beira-Mar's home ground which was initially built for the Euro 2004 tournament which, surprisingly Greece won with Portugal runners-up.
It was very colourful. But it doesn't matter about the colours now, it's about getting ready to win our first trophy of the new season. Time to play some football.
20:35 PM: Ten minutes until kick-off. I sent the line up to the referee, as did Porto:
I've just delivered my instructions to the players and they were lining up in the tunnel, I made my way to the front of the line to lead the team out.
Here are Porto now. Their goalkeeper and captain, Hélton was the first to acknowledge me with a simple nod of the head. Now, here comes Fonseca. The manager, the man who said we'd lose the title. The man who said we'd lose the cup final, I flicked a smile for one second and laughed to myself inside... "Are we gonna fuck this one up as well?" I said to myself, sarcastically.
Here are the referee's now, the two linesmen and the main man lined up in the middle, with his assistants either side of him.
20:40 PM: Here we go, the referee has started walking out, he picks the matchball up off of the short pillar welded into the grass. I hear the roar of both sets of fans. Here we go now.
20:45 PM: I shake hands with the enemy, Fonseca. It was very short, we shook for barely a second, not that we wanted to or anything. The deafening screech of the referee's whistle signals the start of the game.
Jackson Martinez kicks it off for Porto to Quintero who plays the standard ball back to the center back Reyes.
40 minutes in: Costil takes the goal kick for us. Our fans have been singing for all 40 minutes, shutting out any attempts at making noise from Porto by singing louder. He's punted it high into the air, Castro heads it first for Porto but it's straight to Kadu. Ménez now, gets the ball near to the dugouts.
"FIND MICHY" I shout to him, pointing to Michy Batshuayi, who's in yards of space. He obeys my command and starts making a run down the right for us. Michy's given it short to Vargas here. He's tried to find Jérémy with a high ball for some reason. It's headed away by Alex Sandro. Natkho's volleyed it to Mahamadou now. Vargas has received it in space.
"Turn, turn..." I whisper to myself...
He doesn't but he's backheeled it spectacularly into Mané's path!
"Go on Sadio!" He takes a shot first time straight into the hands of Hélton.
"Argh!" I scream in disgust, Fonseca looks over to me, smirking.
43 minutes in: Martinez has it in our half for Porto. He's stopped to play it backwards... Intercepted by Diarra.
"Well done Mahamadou!" I shout in praise for Diarra's effort.
Ménez has taken over, he's knocked a ball into the right hand corner for Michy to chase
"Go on, go on" I say, silently encouraging Batshuayi. His first touch is beautiful, second touch in the box now... Third touch he's delicately touched it... It floats in the air... My ears are switched off, all brain focus is on the flight of the ball...
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEESSS!!!!!!!!! Get in boy!" I shout in unison with the crowd behind me.
I start running down my technical area, right in front of Fonseca now, going mad whilst pretending I don't know that he's behind me.
"I'm here now, why not celebrate with the players?" My head says as I start sprinting down the touchline to celebrate with my players.
Half-time: "FUCKING GET IN LADS! What a half!" I say in the dressing room. The players grin in agreement. "That cunt Fonseca keeps on doubting us doesn't he?! Well lets show him who are the true kings of Portugal! And it's not them bastards! Come on, keep it up in the second half! Lets shut Fonseca's gobby mouth for the third time!" The new signings didn't seem to know what I was talking about, but they still cheered in agreement.
"COME ON!!!" The dressing shook.
Back out for the second half: I return to the dugout with the Braga fans in full voice right behind me. This is beautiful. Batshuayi kicks us off again as he lays it off to Vargas. Knocks it back for Natkho.
50 minutes in: Batshuayi's got it on the edge of the box, Ménez is indicating down the line to Michy. He's tackled by Maicon unfortunately.
Varela gains control of the ball on the opposite side to me. Quintero in the middle now for Porto
"CLOSE THEM DOWN!" I scream, I've started losing my voice a tad, but it won't affect me until after, I can assure you. Romero for Porto. Now the balls on my side as it's sprayed out to Iturbe. Back into the middle for Quintero. Romero once again.
"COME ON, TACKLE!" I shout to my players.
Switched to Varela on the left. Alex Sandro supports there, Castro, Quintero, Romero, Danilo now. This is getting very frustrating now. Iturbe on the right... Martinez receives it inside the box ahead of Kadu. Tapped back to Iturbe... For fuck sake. penalty, Porto.
"LUCA, STAY ON YOUR FEET!" I scream, he replies with an apologetic look on his face.
Martinez picks the ball up, puts it on the contrasting white spot 12 yards from goal... Five steps back. The fans are doing their best to put him off, I try my best not to look... The roars of delight from the Porto faithful puts my thoughts into reality. Braga one, Porto one.
57 minutes in: "Jimmy, get warmed up" I say to Jimmy Briand who's shivering on the subs bench.
60 minutes in: Costil takes yet another goal kick. Reyes heads it straight to Soares' feet. He's taken it wide to find space to pass it to Jimmy.
"RUN!" I say, trying to find Briand's attention. Or just pass it back... For god sake, why aren't we taking any risks? Diarra has it. Ménez, who has converted to a striker following Briand's arrival on the pitch. Batshuayi, Sadio!
"FINSIH!"...
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESS!!!!!!!!! WOOHOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET IN MANÉ!! TWO, ONE TO THE CHAMPIONS!" I chant to myself. GET IN! Mané's last name rings around the stadium, possibly waking up a few local residents it was that loud.
71 minutes in: Batshuayi's taking our corner. Nodded away without any challenge by Martinez. Ménez recieves the ball right next to Michy. Played back to Natkho. High ball to Batshuayi on the right hand side, it's sailed into the six-yard box...
"Just a touch please..." I say hopefully... Briand darts into the path of the ball...
"Get there..."... He did.
Braga 3 - 1 Porto.
I start doing a samba dance I'd just made up on the spot right in front of Fonseca.
"Job done, and you fucked it up!" Reverberates around the ground from Braga fans, responding to Fonseca's pre-match quote of 'it's already job done tonight. We will win'
I have to say, I did join in myself.
75 minutes in: Costil takes the goal kick, again. Sandro gets above Briand but heads it straight into the path of Natkho. It's slowly travelled to Mané without any competition.
"Down the left" I say to him. Danilo tries to tackle but it's already gone to Ménez. Ménez strolls past Castro and Danilo...
"Go on!" He's taken out by both of them.
"PENALTY!" I order.
The whistle confirms the penalty given to Braga. A yellow card for Danilo follows a few seconds after.
Cédric Soares, the right-back steps up.
The whole bench have our arms round each other, anticipating celebration.
Fuck. Tipped away by Hélton. The score remains 3-1.
80 minutes in: Soares takes a free-kick near the half-way line, all but three of our players are inside the box, ready. It loops into the air... GOAL!!!
It's gone in!!!!!!! Gooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal!!!!!!!!
Hang on... Hang on... It's a foul?! Goal disallowed?!
I run onto the pitch in disgust at the referees decision.
"WHAT?! THAT IS A FOUL?!" I complained. I look over to Fonseca.
"How much has he paid you?!"
2 minutes later: I'm sat in the stands. It feels quite refreshing actually, it's been a while since I watched Braga from the stands.
82 minutes in: Quintero's got it here. Varela on the right, plays in Martinez, back-heeled back to Varela who's in space! WHAT A SAVE! Amazing stop from Costil!
Corner ball. Quintero to take. Headed away by Kadu, it's at Briand's feet now in space. Batshuayi in space in the Porto half, switches to Antonelli... Tackled by Varela
"For god sake Luca!" I shout.
91 minutes gone: We're already celebrating in the stands. Hélton takes the goal kick. Headed back by Kadu, controlled by Reyes. He tries to hoof it forward but blocked by Ménez... Brings him down, free-kick to us. It's a booking for Reyes, but we're just waiting for the whistle...
That's it! I run onto the pitch for the second time tonight. I shake hands with the referee.
"Sorry about that earlier ref" I apologise.
"Fuck off you twat" He replies, and walks off. I stood startled. Did he just say that?
Oh well, off to pick up the trophy then!
There's always gonna be drama whenever them two meet 
