THE forays of British teams into Europe aren't as thrilling as they once were. My addiction to football became complete in 1984 when, aged eight, I settled into the Paddock for my first European match at Pittodrie. Aberdeen were 2-0 down from the first leg against Ujpest Dosza, of Hungary. The match was unlike any I'd been to previously: the unfamiliar names and tanned complexions of the opponents lent a sense of exoticism, and the siege mentality they adopted made for a different type of game. Aberdeen pounded their opponents' goal, but the penalty was a morass of flailing, desperate limbs that looked nigh impassable. Only two minutes from full-time did Mark McGhee score a rapturous equaliser, before the win was secured in extra-time.
Matches against European opposition have since become more familiar and increasingly cerebral. The sense of mystery that once shrouded the continent's finest teams has been whisked away by the relentless coverage of the Champions League, and most matches between them are tactical to the point of baroque. While Arsenal's organisational nous and youthful zest in Europe this season have been engrossing, they've rarely thrilled. For white-knuckle drama and ventures into the unknown, you've had to turn to Middlesborough and their astonishing comebacks Basel and Steaua Bucharest. It's this contribution to old-style European football that ensures I'll be supporting Teeside's finest tonight.