Euro 2012: Poland defeat sparks fanzone mass exodus as Wroclaw jollity shattered According to a couple of people I spoke to who were there, the moment the final whistle sounded the exodus had been almost total. The nationalist fervour which had ensured it was impossible to see anyone in town during the day who was not dressed in the Polish colours of red and white dissipated with the Czech victory. Soaked by the storm that accompanied by the game, they went the moment it was over. It was as if all the air had been let out of the balloon of collective hope. Poland, who in the seventies routinely reached the latter stages of tournaments, indeed won the Olympics in 1972, will have to wait another two years for the chance to expunge this feeling. Not that anyone took it out on the Czechs. The neighbours are much appreciated in these parts; as their players had been applauded in victory in the stadium, so there was no animosity shown towards those visitors who were still sitting around outside the cafes and restaurants of the market square. Indeed the majority of the Czechs had tactfully seemed to sense that it would have been inappropriate to party in the town and had headed back home across the border, just 60km down the road. And you could sense in every crunching footstep the party that might have been. Had the Polish players managed to overcome the nervous inertia which overwhelmed them and actually win the game, the cork would have come out of the bottle on an epic scale. Chances are the locals would still be at it, in fact, embarking on a week-long party ahead of the quarter final, marking the collective moment that only comes when hosts succeed in an international football tournament. Instead, for Wroclaw that is it. The town's engagement with international football is over. The blaring commercialism of the fanzone will remain open for the rest of the competition, but will be scaled back; 70,000 people will in all likelihood never again gather in the square. What remains more immediately is the monumental clear up. Though there appeared no shirking on that task: if the noise outside my hotel window last night was indicative, it began at about 3.30am. Passing through the country on the way to Poznan, the morning after the night before, the volume seems to have been turned down on Poland. The flags are still flying, but the face paint has been removed. For the Poles, the competition that promised so much is now effectively over. All that is left for them is the prospect of watching others scrabble for the spoils. As for me, after seeing Poland evicted, I'm off to the Irish wake tomorrow. I get the feeling I have become the competition's Jonah. And as such I need to be kept as far away from England's games as possible.