My first game of the year found me in familiar territory. I missed the first round of fixtures of 2026 as I was out of the city, so I had to jump back in as soon as I was home. It was a quiet late Sunday morning and I was browsing the EPSA website for a new ground to visit when I decided it was time to give Agia Paraskevi a go.

Agia Paraskevi is the area where I went to school for the last six years of my education and thus carries a good amount of nostalgia for me. I don’t find myself there very often these days, so whenever I do, I’m struck by a wave of teenage memories. It’s a nice area in the north-east of the city, at the foot of Mount Hymettus. I never saw a game of the local team back then, but I often found myself around the stadium doing things that are too stupid to talk about here.

The stadium is pretty straightforward, yet with a nice old-school feel. Agia Paraskevi, who not so long ago had a spell in the third division, took on Atromitos Metamorfosis, a team from further north-west. Both sides sit in the middle of the table without big ambitions of climbing much higher. Santa, as the home team are nicknamed, didn’t create many chances but scored the only goal of the encounter in the first half. The visiting side didn’t threaten their opponents much either. It was only in the last couple of minutes that the pace picked up and the tension rose, but time eventually ran out before anything serious could happen.

I had hoped that some of the “Santa Fans”, Agia’s ultras group, would make an appearance, but it seems they’re not very active these days as there was no organised support whatsoever. In terms of terrace action, the highlight was arguably a gypsy throwing flowers onto the pitch, as well as insults and later water from a plastic bottle. His unhinged behaviour was met by the very logical yet funny reaction of a man sitting a few metres away, who appeared to be the club’s president, saying that he would have to pay a fine of one thousand euros for the first man’s actions.

I always end up thinking that there is no amateur football match where nothing happens. If the action on the pitch is bland, the universe will always find a way to compensate you with something memorable of another sort.