Home 2006/07 – Nike
The country
Strategically placed between Russia and Scandinavia, Estonia is the northernmost of the three Baltic states – the others being Latvia and Lithuania – all of whom gained their independence from the USSR during the 1991 “Singing Revolution”, an event characterised by the serenading of Soviet troops with a selection of traditional patriotic folk songs, and about as open an invitation to receiving a bayonet through the face as one could reasonably imagine. Indeed, foreign antagonists have long been a feature of Estonian life. Over the centuries, the Danes, Swedes, Russians (twice) and Germans have all come trampling through, and this history of malevolent intrusion has been expertly laid bare for visitors in the capital Tallinn’s splendid ‘Museum of Foreign Invasions.’ Don’t worry if the sign says it’s closed, just go right on in anyway.
The jewel in the city’s crown though would have to be the medieval Old Town district, in particular the jaunty yet imposing City Walls, which appear in remarkably good nick given how often they’ve been breached. Must be a subtle design flaw somewhere.
Post independence, Estonian culture (which was heavily repressed by the Russians) is once again to the fore. Wife Carrying is a wildly popular if somewhat unconventional sport, in which burly chaps are required to hoist the missus over their shoulders and then best a brutal obstacle course, all the while receiving a helpful sermon on their technique, a bullet point summary of their more general failings as a human and a thorough interrogation as to whether they’ve remembered to record the series finale of Poldark. They’re also massive Chess nuts (‘chestnuts’, get it? Never mind). In fact when Estonian Grandmaster Paul Keres passed away, over 100,000 mourners attended his funeral, creating a massive headache for the poor bishop, who had to maintain order and conduct the service despite only being able to move diagonally.
Though not particularly noted for its culinary prowess, Estonia’s cuisine does have a few quirky dishes liable to start a party in your mouth, if you imagine it’s the kind of party where everyone’s chundering in the toilet. Christ knows why, but blood seems to make its merry way into most meals, so much so that you’ll be left wondering whether your chef is still sporting the requisite number of fingers by the end of his shift. Staples include verivorst (blood sausage), verileib (blood bread) and verikakk, described by Lonely Planet as simply ‘balls of blood’, which sounds like the aftermath of some sort of horrific male grooming accident. Yummers.
Given that the country has the smallest population of any former Soviet state at just 1.3 million, it can hardly be considered confounding that Estonia’s football achievements are a little on the threadbare side. The high-water mark for the national team was undoubtedly reached during the Euro 2012 qualifiers, a campaign that saw the Estonians secure a shock second place behind Italy and with it a spot in the play offs, where hopes of a first major tournament appearance were finally dashed via a 5-1 aggregate thumping against Ireland. Aside from that flash in a pan, sort of success, Estonia have generally limped home no higher than 4th or 5th in World Cup or European Championship qualification. Not exactly the smallest fish in the UEFA pond, but definitely a very edible link in the food chain.
Perhaps fittingly for a team who so comfortably fit the designation of non-entities, Estonia’s’ most famous/infamous match of all time was probably the one for which they didn’t even bother to turn up. For those not familiar with this story, in October 1996 Scotland arrived in Tallinn for a World Cup qualifying match and immediately expressed concerns about the quality of the floodlights at the Kadrioru Stadium. FIFA concurred that they were indeed a bit shit (the floodlights, not the Scots) and moved the kickoff time forward a few hours, infuriating the hosts, who concluded that the most sensible course of action would be to pretend they hadn’t gotten the memo and thus unveil their innovative 0-0-0 formation. Not to be dissuaded by such tactical wizardry, Craig Brown’s men kicked off anyway, with the referee abandoning the game after just three seconds, ostensibly due to the apparent Estonian boycott, but more likely he simply realised there would be nobody to take the inevitable goal kick were any of the Scottish players to take on a shot.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJkwJz6euhs
Hilariously, rather than being awarded the expected 3-0 default victory, Scotland were instead forced to replay the game on neutral territory in Monaco, where they would only manage a goalless draw. Despite this setback, the Scots did ultimately qualify for the finals in France, where they would find – good news – adequate floodlights and – not so good news – opponents who actually existed.
The shirt
This shirt is pants. Honestly, I can’t be bothered to talk about it all that much because there’s really not much to say. It’s blue. That’s about it. Aside from the white flashes adorning the sleeves (whoa, Nike. Calm your tits) the design has no points of interest or contrasting trim whatsoever. Even the badge is a sad affair, looking as it does like a Fisher Price gambling chip that’s been sicked up by the cat. Poor effort. In fairness, the national team’s official nickname of “Sinisargid” translates simply as “Blueshirts” so I guess this is just a very literal imagining of that title. Unfortunately, this is clearly where the ‘imagining’ ground to a halt.
Not that Estonia has a stunning array of vintage shirts for my consideration as a potential replacement. Apart from one gloriously daft early 90s effort (pictured below), which typically commands outrageous prices wherever and whenever it becomes available, all the designs have been that irksome trifecta of dull, rare and expensive. As such, I really can’t be arsed with shopping around for something better as 1) It won’t be much better and 2) It’ll be fecking expensive. Luckily, Estonia’s perpetual absence from major tournaments makes it unlikely I’ll be strutting around in this nondescript slice of blandness any time soon.
Seriously, if anyone know where I can get hold of this shirt at a non-extortionate price, please let me know.