The quiet of summer is grand for a while, but then you get an itch. You know yourself. It’s an itch for floodlights and a bit of proper pandemonium. The lads at UEFA always know how to scratch it. Their big one-off match, the Super Cup, is on the horizon for 2025 and it feels like a big one.

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This isn’t your Da’s kickabout in the park. This is a clash of giants. Imagine Liverpool, fresh off some dramatic European run, taking on a slick Spanish side like Barcelona. You can already see some wonderkid trying a shot from a ridiculous angle. It’s the kind of match where legends are made, or where a defender makes a blunder for the ages. Absolute theatre.

The whole of Dublin will be a circus. The atmosphere alone is worth the price of admission, which I hear will be a cheeky €180 or so. The whole city are ready for it. Getting the Luas from O’Connell Street will be a nightmare, I might just drive up from Cork and park the car near Anfield. it’s usually easier to find a spot there on a big night.

▶ The Pre-Match Shenanigans

It’s the players that make it, isnt it? I’ve a vision of Darwin Núñez. He’ll either score a hat-trick of pure flukes or get booked for arguing with the corner flag. That’s the beauty of this one-off Super Cup game. The real action starts hours before in the pubs.

Temple Bar will be a proper kerfuffle, full of fans singing about the 1990 World Cup, it has nothing to do with anything but the passion is there. You see the UEFA suits wandering about, looking completely gobsmacked by the whole scene. They hand over that big shiny yoke at the end of the night. But the stories, the real meat of it, are made in the hours before. And on the pitch, in moments of pure, unscripted madness.

▶ The Final Whistle and The Takeaway

So what’s the point of it all, then? It’s a fair question. The glory is gargantuan, of course. Watching your captain lift that colossal silver jug, that big-eared Super Cup, it’s a sight to behold. The lads from UEFA, in their pristine suits, will stand there, smiling for the cameras. They’ve done their job. But their job is just the container for the madness.

The real stuff, the magic, is what we pour into it. That ticket, the one that cost you a hefty €180, isnt for ninety minutes of lads chasing a ball. It’s an investment in a future story. It’s for the post-match debate in some pub that probably should’ve closed hours ago.

My journey from Cork will be grand, the parking near Anfield is just a dream for these Dublin games. Makes perfect sense if you dont think about it too hard. The whole crowd are buzzing about it. It is what makes these nights special. The pure, unadulterated bedlam of it all. So when you see them hoist that lump of silver, remember the real trophy. It’s the noise. The shared gasp. The feeling that for one night, the entire city is breathing to the same rhythm.

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Simon Dymond

Journalist at bestbettingsitesireland.ie

School of Information & Communication Studies, University College Dublin, Belfield, Dublin 4, Ireland