By Steve Desmond

It was 1991. Ireland were up against Poland and I had tickets for the game - a qualifier for Sweden '92. I flew into a strange place called Poznan.

I landed at what I can only describe as a Soviet-style air force base. This was a bizarre kind of place that seemed so far away from the first world - cut off, backward and, most of all, poor.

I had PLN250, 000 in my pocket - worth about £50, and I just couldn't spend it, for two reasons - everything was dirt cheap and there was nothing to spend it on anyway.

People seemed nervous of anything Western and everywhere looked dark and grey - grey skies and grey people fumbling out of a dark communist past.