Martin Tatuch : "The story of one banner...."

Between the summer of 1996 and the summer of 1998 I was posted to the United States Embassy in Yerevan as Consul. During this time, Armenia participated in its first World Cup qualifying tournament, and its final match on October 11, 1997 was against a Ukrainian side which needed a victory to advance into the second-place playoff round.
As a loyal Uke, I knew I had to do something. So I hand-painted a banner, ten meters long, which cried "SLAVA UKRAINY -- LET'S GO UKES!" Took me two whole weekends to do it (there's not a whole lot else to do in Yerevan....).
On the evening of the game, I took the banner to Hrazdan Stadium, the former home of Ararat, Armenia's entry in the Soviet Central League. Although less than thirty years old, the stadium has started to crumble, with dark corradors, loose concrete and rows and rows of missing benches. The stadium parking lot was now a market. But the pitch was fine, probably because it was the only stretch of grass in the country regularly watered.
There was an ideal rail from which to hang banners towards the bottom of the far side of the stands (the side, of course, which shows up on TV). Few people sat there, and I felt there would be no trouble. As I started to hang my sign, an Armenian uniformed militia captain came up running to me, yelling in Armenian "no, no, that's prohibited by FIFA regulations!" (This was not the first nor the last time I would be lied to by an Armenian official.) I didn't believe the guy (German fans hung a number of banners when they visited; Armenians don't make signs) but I really didn't feel like arguing with him, so I didn't hang up the sign. Nevertheless, with the help of my dear wife Laura, and my friend Brian, who was unwittingly drafted into the task, I held up the sign at key points in the match, such as during our National Anthem (yes, that lone voice was mine), at the beginning of each half, and after both goals.
We managed to get an occassional rise out of the crowd of 10,000 - plus. The crowd would start shouting "Hayastan, Hayastan!" whenever I unfurled the sign, although everybody was very good-natured about it. There were several units of soldiers sitting near me (several units are brought to watch every game) who smiled and laughed as they chanted. We also sat in front of a group of Russian border guards. The Russian boys smiled even more, and definitely were cheering on Ukraine. The most surprised group in the stadium was probably the Ukrainian delegation, safely ensconsed in the VIP boxes across the field. Whatever were they thinking?
The crowd had little to cheer about as Ukraine completely dominated the Armenians, whose run-to-the-goal tactic could not penetrate the Ukrainian midfield. The Ukrainians seemed to know where Armenia was moving the ball and immediately put up a strong defense, stopping them consistently. To be true, Armenia was outmaned on the field. Most of their side came from domestic teams like Pyunic, Ararat and FC Yerevan, where they try to supplement their salary of a few hundred dollars with bonus money from biznesmen sponsors. A few play in Russia or Iran. Fans in Kiev remember the number 7, Petrosyan, from Shirak in Gyumri, who stole a tie for Armenia the previous match. Perhaps the only real quality player on the side, he would not be so lucky this evening.
After starting the tournament by tying Portugal (thank you!) Armenia could only manage one victory in the tournament, 3:0 at home over a even more woebegotten Albania.
During the game, both a still photographer and a video cameraman came up to us and asked us to hold up the banner. We naturally complied, and the sign was captured for posterity and brought home to millions of Ukrainians. Which was exactly the point. (I later learned it did in fact appear on Ukrainian television.)
I have made other signs, for the U.S.A., for my club, D.C. United, but there won't be a more special sign than the one I proudly held in Yerevan, and hope to raise it again.