Rubin Kazan 2-2 Lokomotiv Moscow- An empty stadium, last-minute drama and vaccine passport confusion

As I took my seat at the 45,000 capacity Kazan Arena, I couldn’t help but think to myself - where is everyone? Kick-off was imminent, and the stands resembled a scene you’d expect to see an hour or two prior to this point. As it transpired, the official attendance was 4,511, and it would thus appear that the residents of Kazan did not share my enthusiasm for this upper mid-table Russian Premier League clash between local Rubin, and Lokomotiv Moscow. Despite my initial bewilderment, the low turnout can be (partly) explained by the recently-enacted laws on vaccine passports by the local Tatar government. As of last week, an official QR code proving vaccination is required to enter bars, restaurants, cafés, shopping centres and sporting events. With a vaccination rate little over 30%, it is no surprise to see attendances plummet from the five-figure numbers seen prior to this. As a Brit, I was not in possession of an ‘official’ Russian vaccine passport, so there was a definite question mark over my attendance upon arrival. Fortunately, me and my friend were able to negotiate our way through security with our NHS codes, which we explained was a ‘britanskaya spravka.’(British certificate of vaccination) The security guard seemed bemused - I was unable to discern whether this was as a result of our broken Russian or the fact that two British guys had made the choice to come and watch a domestic Russian League game. 

The 'ultras' of Rubin Kazan creating as good an atmosphere as they could directly beneath us. 
Travelling Lokomotiv fans sat opposite. 

The truth is, I didn’t know what to expect from Rubin. I knew that they are definitely not a small club by Russian standards, and I remember them featuring in European competition - most famously defeating Guardiala’s Barcelona 2-1 at the Camp Nou in 2010. That being said, it would appear those glory days are gone. Back-to-back titles in 2008 and 2009 followed by a third place finished in 2010 gave the impression that they were starting to challenge the traditional top table of Russian football. (When you arrive in Russia, you quickly realise that life firmly revolves around Moscow and St. Petersburg, and football is no different). In fact, they are the only side from outside the two dominant cities to win a Premier League title since its formation in 1992 following the dissolution of the Soviet Union and consequently the Soviet Championship. Since those three successful seasons however, Rubin have gone through perpetual mid-table mediocrity, with league finishes ranging from fifth to tenth. 

That was until last season, when Leonid Slutsky led them to fourth place, which landed them in the Europa Conference League qualifiers. A humiliating defeat to Polish minnows Rakow Czectochowa followed, but nevertheless, I got the impression that Slutsky had the club moving in the right direction. Slutsky himself is an interesting character, having released a cover of Mariah Carey’s Christmas Classic ‘All I Want for Christmas’ last year, which he followed up with a rap number, interestingly titled ‘Rubin Supergood.’ To me personally, he is a figure of great intrigue due to his brief and ill-fated spell as Hull manager, my dad’s home town club. I was looking forward to seeing how his new side were playing. 

Prior to kick off, as I always do, I looked online at the starting eleven to see if I recognised any of the players. Fedor Smolov of Lokomotiv Moscow and the Russian national team was the only one which rang a bell. One would be forgiven for assuming that the Russian league is populated only by native players, such is the stereotype of Russia as insular, and suspicious of outside influence. However, looking at the team sheets, it is anything but. Despite league rules stipulating that at least five Russian players must be on the pitch for each team at any point during a match, both sides were making the most of their foreign quota. There were players from Denmark, Croatia, Tunisia, South Korea, Georgia, Montenegro, France, the Netherlands and Brazil. I suppose this shouldn’t come as a shock with the effects of globalisation and with football being the world’s sport, but it still wasn’t exactly what I expected, particularly in the case of Kazan. When I tell people I’m living in Kazan this year to teach English, it is often met with ‘why would you want to go there?’ or with people confusing the city with Kazakhstan. I wonder if family and friends of Rubin’s foreign stars have a similar reaction. 

As the game got underway, it was Kazan who made the faster start. They thought they’d taken the lead before VAR reared its ugly head and found the goal to be offside. The minutes flew by, and the hosts began to take charge. Hwang In-Beom of South Korea was pulling the strings from deep, and Khvica Kvaratskhelia, a tricky winger with an equally tricky name to pronounce, looked lively on the left flank. And up front, German Onugkha, a 6 foot 3 Russian-Nigerian striker who most certainly falls into the category of ‘a handful’ was spearheading attacks and holding the ball up superbly. However, it was the Dane, Anders Dreyer, who fired Rubin in front with a thunderbolt from distance before half-time. 

With the home side deservedly ahead at the break, it was now a case of consolidating and maybe grabbing a second to calm the nerves in the second half. I don’t know what Slutsky said at half-time, but Rubin came out seeming desperate for a second. Chances came and went, with Lokomotiv threatening occasionally at the other end in a frenetic second half. Then, on 66 minutes, the ball fell in the box to the big man, German Onugkha, who smashed home. He raced towards where we were sat behind the goal, to celebrate with the few but vocal fans populating the stand. It was at this point that Rubin began to sit back, and they were immediately punished. Fedor Smolov halved the deficit almost immediately, making for a nervy final 25 minutes. Rubin sat deep, soaking up the pressure and looked to be dealing with everything the visitors had to offer reasonably straightforwardly. That was, until the 94th minute, when the ball fell to substitute Rifat Zhelametdinov about 25 yards from goal. Under little pressure from the home defence, he looked up and hammered his strike into the top corner, giving the goalkeeper no chance of producing a match winning save. 2-2. And like that, a seemingly comfortable two-goal lead had evaporated. 

Leaving the stadium I was shadowed by the illumination of what I am reliably informed is Europe’s biggest outdoor screen (one of the arena’s main selling points). It remains turned on 24/7, and is so massive that I am told living immediately in its wake is very cheap owing to the light pollution. However, despite the blinding light supplied by this useless piece of trivia, I was feeling gloomy - plagued with that deflated feeling any football fan knows after being on the receiving end of a decisive late goal. The feeling of what might have been, and the feeling of loss. Not the loss of anything profound or significant, but the loss of 2 points which otherwise would have belonged to Rubin, aiding their assault on the upper reaches of the table. Despite not being able to call myself a Rubin fan (yet), I felt sympathy for those fans sat in our stand, who tried their best to create the best atmosphere they could for 90 minutes, despite the lack of numbers to help them. Whilst the chants weren’t the most creative or amusing (highlights include: ‘krasniye zeleniye’ (Red and Greens) and someone with a megaphone screaming ‘Rubin Kazan’ repeatedly), they were passionate. But, despite the last-minute heartbreak, as always in football: there’s always next week. I look forward to heading to some more games as the season unfolds, and finding out whether Rubin can return to the short-lived glory days of the past.