Not quite hell, but Istanbul cauldron plays plays its full part

The Fenerbahce striker whipped up the volume with slow roll of his right arm before releasing a guttural roar from 50,000 frenzied Turks by punching the air three times.

Scroll down to read more:

This signalled a 30-minute countdown to kick-off, dripping with pure intimidation. Istanbul's pulsating Sukru Saracoglu Stadium casts West Ham's bubble blowing and the Kop's Mersey anthem into the shade.

Anfield may have played a role when Liverpool beat Chelsea in the Champions League semi-final in 2005, but there is nothing in English football quite like this.

Fans were packed into all four sides of the ground, behind their white railings, clad in their club colours. They call themselves the Yellow Canaries but it's a far cry from On The Ball, City at Carrow Road.

Fenerbahce were preparing for the biggest game in their history. Zico and his players would need the supporters to pull their weight and they did not want to disappoint their heroes.

Inter and Sevilla have already fallen to the Turkish champions in this European campaign but the scalp of wealthy Chelsea and a place in the last four would represent the club's greatest international achievement by some distance.

The full repertoire of European football's terrace tricks would be practiced: the choreographed jolt of outstretched scarves in time to some kind of heavy metal grunge number; techno was piped in to accompany thousands of whirling propeller scarves and the old Argentine favourite, bouncing on the spot, was there in force.

Naturally, Chelsea, angelic in all white, were whistled on and off the pitch but when the teams emerged from the tunnel giant banners dropped from the stands as if a switch had been flicked: the blue and yellow stripes, the Fenerbahce badge and the Turkish flag. "The Rising Sun of Europe", said another.

Shimmering letters spelled the word 'target' in English, in a bid to inspire the home team. To their left, behind the goal Carlo Cudicini would protect in the first half, unfurled a banner which read simply "HELL".

They even dropped the 'welcome to' from Turkish football's equivalent of the 'This is Anfield' sign.

There were no throat-cutting gestures or the genuine nastiness which once greeted Manchester United at Fenerbahce's great city rivals Galatasaray, when the players were manhandled by riot police.

In Istanbul itself, the welcome could not be warmer, especially from Galatasaray fans, some of whom presented Avram Grant with flowers when he arrived ahead of the game.

But this is the way of Turkish football. It is their way of saying 'this is our turf and it is a place for grown men. We are proud and passionate'. Why should they make life easy for their super-rich opponents?

What would Roman Abramovich pay to bring this sort of match day noise to Stamford Bridge, where fans have to be handed free flags before the game and led through the songs by a professional singer?

Grant crammed his team with experience in Istanbul, selecting six players who had already tasted success on Turkish soil. Michael Essien and Florent Malouda won here with Lyon. Michael Ballack won here with Bayer Leverkusen. John Terry, Ashley Cole and Frank Lampard were all part of the England team who drew 0-0 in this stadium to qualify for Euro 2004.

Grant's decision to rest players in the first leg of the last round against Olympiacos backfired when the team escaped with a 0-0 draw.

This time, Claude Makelele patrolled in front of the back four and their belief was reinforced by Deivid's own goal in the 13th minute.

The ball hitting the net triggered a mute button. Just for a second. Everyone knows the value of an away goal.

A brief silence returned when Essien clipped the bar but the noise levels were back to normal by the time Mehmet Aurelio tumbled in the penalty area.

When Colin Kazim-Richards, the Londoner who reached the Bosphorus via Bury and Brighton, came off the bench to equalise the decibels flew off the scale.

They will still be ringing around Brother Kezman's head when he reflects on his career from the serenity of his monastery.