You know, the finale of the season for our Baltika turned out to be something completely special, like a real triumph of local stubbornness.
There are teams you look at and understand: they were made for pretty pictures and polite conversation. And then there is our Kaliningrad. We live here between a cold sea, old brick walls and the constant need to explain to visitors what it's actually like to be cut off from the mainland.
This Sunday, 17 May, we gather at Rostec Arena. This enormous stadium looks as if it landed right in the middle of our foggy landscapes. Baltika close out round thirty with a match against Dynamo Moscow, and it seems to me there is a particular charm in that.
The current team has done something rather cool by becoming a true reflection of the city itself. There's no showy luxury here, no whims of rich owners. The lads play like a well-oiled machine that asks no favours of the weather or the referees, and simply takes what's theirs through persistence.
If we talk numbers, the picture that emerges is quite curious.
We're now settled fairly comfortably in sixth place with 46 points, and the goal difference is holding around a confident plus 18.
The Muscovites are trailing for now, sitting eighth: they have 42 points with a more modest difference of plus 10.
When the teams met in the first half of the season, the game was fairly quiet, and the sides parted peacefully — 1:1.
There's no question here of a battle for survival or frantic attempts to reach European competitions that don't exist for any of us. Rather, we just want to finish beautifully a season that for many of us has become something like a symbol of civic pride.
Around here we don't like metropolitan flirting on the pitch. All year the lads have played with compact lines, sharp thrusts and serious discipline. To some, that kind of football may seem dry or heavy, but there's definitely character in it. This kind of game is unlikely to gather millions of views, but it's real and it makes sense to us.
Of course, we can't fail to mention our coach.
Andrei Talalaev on the touchline is a pure bundle of energy.
Sometimes it seems he could light up the stadium with his emotions alone. Understandably, that much activity can get tiring.
But one thing can't be denied.
He made Baltika a team with nerve.
Talalaev didn't just fire the team up. He gave it structure. And on top of that came character, aggression and the desire to prove that Baltika aren't here on a sightseeing trip.
Kaliningrad finds it hard to believe in a sterile football fairy tale. But a team that argues, scraps, gets angry and still holds its shape — that it can believe in.
As for the guests from the capital, they won't arrive at full strength. Look at the absences.
Maksim Osipenko misses the match through suspension, and that's a serious hole in their defence.
Ivan Sergeev is also suspended, so they lose an important attacking player.
Even Rolan Gusev won't be able to manage from the bench for the same reason.
Some might think the win has edged a little closer and we can relax. But that's exactly where the catch lies. If our lads decide the opponent's selection problems will make the game easier, the likes of Tyukavin or Bitello will quickly punish any lapse in concentration.
So it'll be interesting to see whether our defence can neutralise the visitors' attacks while they're still in their own half. It's not about sitting in front of our own goal but about trying to meet the Muscovites early and not letting them turn.
Finally, I want to say this.
The game is unlikely to resemble a Brazilian carnival, but we don't need that. We value persistence to the very last minute.
The team has shown it deserves to be reckoned with. Yes, maybe its football isn't always perfect for the neutral viewer, but for us it has become our own, grown here, by the sea.
Today the lads just need to go out and confirm that the current results are the fruit of their real work, not a simple accident.
Real, solid Kaliningrad work.
Come on, Baltika! Come on, for Kaliningrad!
