League II, as in the times of the cooperative

Many of the final season matches in the Second League – especially in the play -out – can raise serious question marks. When you see strange scores, spectacular comebacks in the last minutes or stakes that seem to “get beaten”, the idea of ​​a countertop is inevitably in your mind. And it is not paranoia, but a logical suspicion in a championship in which transparency and integrity are, unfortunately, often questionable.

There are several typical signals that appear frequently in such matches: suspicious odds that suddenly fluctuates before seemingly trivial matches (No. – See the matches Ceahlăul – Șelimbăr 1-2 or Afumati – Chindia 0-2), already saved teams that play with reserves and seem to not oppose resistance, unexpected scores between bands that previously had very low voids or too many, ridiculous defensive phases, where defenders play “.

In addition, in the play-out there is also a special dynamic: a “strategic” defeat today can help a partner team to escape tomorrow.

The federation, theoretically, has a system for monitoring bets through partnerships with specialized companies (such as Sportradar), but in practice, concrete sanctions for countertops are rare and almost never public or transparent.

Let's play artistic … ballet at the edge of the field

On a day of May with shy rain and rarefied stands, two teams that once dreamed of promotion composed, on an Ilfov land, a suspicious duet. CS Afumați and Chindia Târgoviște. Or maybe two names placed on the sheet just to respect the rule: to play.

It started soft, as in a poorly directed play. Meaningless passes, duels of the eyes of the world, balls lost with the delicacy with which a bad wine is served in crystal glasses. No serious foul, no nervous input. It wasn't even football. It was repetition.

Then, as a silent signal, the first goal of the guests came. No pressure, no reaction. There followed a peace of the provincial church. The public, little as it was, looked not at the lawn, but at phones. Probably scores from other matches, from other leagues, from other plans of reality. Bad mouths say there were more applications of bets open to the match than spectators … Bad world, sir!

You smoke? Apathic, inexpressive, almost disturbed that it has to move. Chindia? Determined … but only as much as it has to look. And yet, 0-2. A clean, soothing, without complications score. It seems chosen from a fixed menu of suspicious matches. Exactly how much not to hit the eyes. But beats.

On the edge, a man from the staff raised two fingers. No change. It was a sign. Not to force themselves. The game died like a cigarette ironed by an expensive shoe. The referee, correct to the limit of indifference, whistled the end. No protests, no applause.

In the empty stands, someone whispered: “Is this a countertop?” The answer came with a shrug. The truth is not told. They play. In the Second League, the truth is a discreet ballet between relegation and survival, between bets and silence.

Echoes on the edge of the cup

On the field of Piatra Neamț, where the history of football seems to be carried out in slow-motion, I attended another act from a piece with a predestined final. Ceahlăul Piatra Neamț – a team that still dreams of its glory times, but also the promise of a place in Liga I – met CSC Șelimbăr, a timid dreamer, a team that only hopes for an honorable escape from the meanders of relegation.

It started like any second league match: with hopes subjugated by reality and with an audience that seemed more of the obligation than from passion. Ceahlăul, the host team, had an embarrassing confidence in his own defense, and Șelimbăr, the guest team, put pressure without seeing aware of what is really happening on the ground.

Chindia Photo: Facebook

1-0 for Ceahlăul, a goal scored in a first phase that has sparked more than joy. The match seemed to follow its natural course. However, something rushed into the air, like an almost imperceptible farewell: the urgent need for points, fear of a “new beginning” for both teams.

And so, instead of trying a real battle for victory, Șelimbăr equalized. An autogole, somewhat inevitable, but not so much because of the player's error as in a general state of inattention, as if playing with a promise in the back. The score became 1-1, and everything seemed open for a spectacular return.

But nothing was actually open. In the minutes that followed, the match turned into a ballet of the formalities, in which each team knew exactly how much he had to do to respect the rigors of the game, but no one wanted to go to the end. Șelimbăr, with a goal scored from a penalty, closed the game. 1-2. A victory that smelled of tacit complicity rather than triumph. Or as a classic would say: 1 break, 2 final …

Our correspondent from Piatra Neamț told us that he left the stadium with a bitter taste. The goals did not have the taste of a real match, but of a simulation. Șelimbăr left with three points, but who knows? Maybe Ceahlăul already had a promise in the back. Maybe nothing was what seemed. In fact, this is the football from us, what's under League I, resembles Twin Peaks, that is, nothing is what it seems.