In the realm of European football, Poland might not top the charts, but when it comes to fervor in the stands, they stand unrivaled. Especially in Warsaw, where passion for the sport reaches unprecedented levels.
A standout moment from 2017 remains etched in memory: the ultras of Legia Warszawa orchestrated a jaw-dropping display. Unveiling a colossal banner, it bore the words "And The 35,000€ Fine Goes To..." - a bold retort to UEFA's hefty penalty imposed earlier. Minutes later, a mammoth banner emerged, featuring a pig adorned with the UEFA emblem, holding a bowl carrying Legia Warsaw's logo, all amidst a fiery red flare.
This daring act was a response to UEFA's sanction of 35 thousand euros due to a contentious banner choreography staged months prior.
Yet, this account merely scratches the surface of Legia Warszawa's ultra fervor. The extent of devotion among supporters of this Polish powerhouse is a sight to behold.
The football scene in Poland stands apart from its counterparts in other nations, shaped by a history deeply scarred by past colonization under the Nazi and Soviet regimes. Though the years have passed, the wounds linger, nestled in the core of their identity.
In this landscape, the allegiance and pride of Legia Warsaw's ultras shine undiminished, an unwavering force behind their cherished team in every match. Among them, factions like the formidable Teddy Boys 95 stand out.
This group, infamous for its off-field aggression and right-wing affiliations, holds a notorious position among Eastern European ultras, carving its legacy amidst the backdrop of Legia Warsaw's fan culture. Emerging in the mid-eighties, their unity extends beyond stadium gatherings to traveling as a unified force even to away games.
Stepping into the scene after the decline of the previous fervent group, Gitowcow, known for its diverse array of young supporters spanning hippies, pop culture enthusiasts, and punks, the Teddy Boys' consolidation of various societal segments earned them widespread respect.
Their passion for football extends far beyond stadium boundaries, a legacy passed down through generations. Over the years, hooliganism has become an intrinsic part of ultras Legia Warsaw's game-day routine.
Engaging in clashes with rival supporter groups has evolved into a traditional aspect of their fervor, termed "Ustawka," where hand-to-hand confrontations unfold regularly. While such confrontations are not unique to Poland and are prevalent in Eastern Europe, some assert that the intensity of ultras' clashes in Poland outstrips others in its sheer ferocity.
The fervor of Legia's ultras extends beyond clashes with rival supporters; it often spills into conflicts with the club itself. Their disagreements over the club's policies for ultras have, at times, threatened to tear the very fabric of the team apart.
Back in 2002, a looming debt crisis pushed Legia Warsaw to the brink of collapse. The ultras issued vehement threats, ready to unleash chaos unless the club resolved the issue urgently. This tumult led to the dismissal of the then-CEO, Leszek Miklas, and subsequent intervention by a prominent Warsaw-based media company, salvaging Legia's finances two years later.
Ekstraklasa π΅π±
— πππΈβπ» πππβ πΎβππβπ» π (@Ultramaniatics_) October 17, 2021
Legia Warszawa vs Lech PoznaΕ.
17/10 pic.twitter.com/492WOuwvA4
However, this newfound stability was short-lived. A spike in ticket prices incensed the ultras, culminating in a massive protest outside the stadium. Their frustration peaked when Legia Warsaw suffered a defeat to Lech PoznaΕ in the 2004 Polish Cup final. Exhausted by clashes with Lech PoznaΕ's ultras, Legia's supporters stormed their rivals and even seized Lech PoznaΕ's victorious medal.
Such actions drew ire from the club's hierarchy, who found the ultras' behavior contradictory to Legia's image. This further strained their already tenuous relationship. Moreover, the return of Leszek Miklas as CEO exacerbated the disconnect between the club and Legia's ultras.
The rift endured, leading to a year-long ban on Legia ultras from attending matches, both home and away. Only after arduous negotiations did the club relent, allowing ultras Legia to return to the stands towards the end of 2005. The compromise saw them reinstated in a dedicated section behind the goal, alongside Leszek Miklas's departure.
Despite the turmoil, Ultras Legia Warsaw emerged anew, crafting mesmerizing choreography that adorned the stands, representing the trials and tribulations of Legia Warsaw's dedicated supporters.
The return of Legia's ultras to the stands became a stage for defiance, not reconciliation. In a bold act of satire against UEFA, their choreography mocked the governing body after their disqualification from the Champions League, despite triumphing 6-1 on aggregate against Celtic in 2014.
Legia Warsawa v Aktobe
— Ultrasshop.com (@ultrasshopcom) March 31, 2020
28/08/2014π΅π±
Legia fans displayed a fantastic choreography to UEFA. The reason is UEFA disqualified Legia after the 6-1 win against Celtic, because of a small mistake.The word "Money" in the same colors as Celtic. pic.twitter.com/Ckh4TcXiIk
The controversy stemmed from Legia allegedly fielding an ineligible player during the game against Celtic, leading to their expulsion from the prestigious tournament.
Ultras Legia took their protest to the stands, denouncing UEFA with a colossal banner bearing the words "6-1. Because football doesn't matter. Money does." This scathing message aimed to highlight the perceived prioritization of finances over the sport itself.
As the banner unfurled, an image of the infamous pig reappeared, this time accompanied by the UEFA logo, carrying the words "6 smaller than 1." This visual jab underscored their belief in the injustice of the decision, emphasizing that the significance of the 6-1 victory was undermined by UEFA's ruling.
Legia Ultras, known for their fervor and innovation in supporting the team, showcased their creativity in a controversial choreography moment in 2017. A colossal banner unfurled, depicting Nazi soldiers aiming pistols at a child's head.
Beneath this harrowing image, the banner bore the text "During the Warsaw uprising, German soldiers killed 160,000 people including children." Alongside this display, Legia ultras meticulously arranged mosaic papers to form Poland's flag adorned with the numbers 1944, marking the 73rd anniversary of the Warsaw uprising.
However, despite the attempt to commemorate this historical event, the controversial choreography resulted in significant backlash. Legia Warsaw faced severe consequences, slapped with a staggering fine of 35 million euros. The gesture, although attempting to honor history, stirred widespread controversy and incurred substantial penalties.
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