Weltmeister 2006 – Deutschland kommt vom Kalten Krieg herein
By
Mickey Blue Eyes

There is an old saying: “Keep politics out of sport.”

But there is also another saying of the same age: “You can’t keep politics out of sport.”

Thus, the conundrum. It applies to professional football as much as any other sport.

Of course the solution in a democratic society is to keep the politics out for as long as you can. Quite rightly when politicians insist on entry they are allowed in reluctantly and got rid of as soon as possible. This sensible if irritating compromise has applied since the dawn of organised competitive human sports in the historic mists and myths of Ancient Greece. There is no reason why the relatively recent game of professional football should be exempt. And its establishment as the world’s most popular sport always renders it enticing to crooks, opportunists and ideologue politicians on the make. For an example you need look no further than the current exposure of utter corruption in the Italian version of the game. There are many other precedents for those who wish to research European history.

All of this once again became evident as I attended World Cup 2006 in Germany. Based in Charlottenburg, Berlin, I travelled elsewhere for games or watched on large projection screens in organised free fans areas or in a bar. It was a marvellous and liberating experience and one I will never forget. However, the football was only part of it. In my mind the tournament marked the beginning of a much-needed final restoration of a united Germany to European culture. This is a large claim. Since the roots go deep, let me explain.

As professional football was born in nineteenth-century England, over in Europe Prussian statesman Otto von Bismark busied himself shifting the centre of power from Napoleon the Third’s Paris to Berlin, and of uniting various petty kingdoms and provinces into a single nation we now call Germany, which he tried to promote to the level of a Great Power. His motives were debatable but there’s no arguing with the wrong end of a cannon, which was his main method of achievement. In historic terms, he succeeded. Tragically for the world, Bismark’s departure in 1890 led to a leadership vacuum Germany never adequately filled. It resulted amongst other things in the fateful cost of intensified British and French competitive paranoia and eventually in the awful catastrophe of two world wars. By the time the historic cycle had finished in 1945 much of Europe lay in ruins and suffered casualties running into tens of millions. Germany was divided by the victorious allies into Soviet Union-occupied East Germany and American/British/French-occupied West Germany, all of it on the basis of “Never Again!” – before invention of the crazy Cold War confrontation between the former allies during 1945-1990.

(For Evertonian anoraks and conspiracy theorists there are some jarring coincidences – Everton won the League Championship the season immediately after Bismark departed the scene and on the eves of both world wars, and won the FA Cup the year mass-murderer Adolf Hitler and his nazis came to power in Berlin. Our last successful era arguably came to an end in 1990, the year Germany reunified at the end of the Cold War. There’s a tongue-in-cheek lesson in there somewhere.)

We still live with the remnant of a very human legacy of mistrust and hatred. Fortunately most of the worst aspects faded as older generations were succeeded by those with mercifully little or no experience of wartime horrors. However, nationalist rivalry lived on in competitive sports and often spilled over into violent clashes between fans. Anyone caught in the middle of one of the notorious Holland-Germany mass fans fights will not forget the episode. As Germany adjusted to its new democratic state European relations were often strained and memory still fresh. German nationalism was frowned on and subject to great suspicion, internally and externally. But the English in particular were unwilling to let go of “their finest hour” and were much more inclined, initially at least, to make spiteful fun at the expense of the Germans. After all, they didn’t have much other opportunity to feel superior about anything. Over time English fans’ reaction intensified into defensive overt nationalism as German football success increased. Following English victory in the World Cup final of 1966 there was an extended period of German dominance in games between the two. This only made matters worse in the English media and amongst the fans. Germany was rising in political, economic and sports importance, England declining. Overall, the relationship remained uneasy at best.

This mostly disconcerted new generations of Germans with no memory of war or those who committed themselves to rebuilding a democratic state. For them, times had changed and they were more than willing to accommodate the necessary changes. By comparison the English appeared stuck in a reactionary time warp. Then the Cold War ended, the Soviet Union disappeared, and Germany set out on the hugely expensive course of reunification. The changes were seismic. In my view it will take another generation before the present cycle is complete.

German restoration policies have gone forward on several fronts. One of them was in sports and led to their staging of the football World Cup in 1974 (won by now-defunct West Germany) and again in 2006. The comparisons are telling. In 1974 West Germany even played East Germany in the early stages and lost. But they defeated Holland in the final, where old enmities once again surfaced on the pitch. The game was refereed by Englishman Jack Taylor. Quite rightly he awarded a penalty to Holland in the first minute. At which German captain Franz Beckenbauer complained, “But you are English………” Taylor, a notorious disciplinarian, almost booked him but didn’t. Booking was the right course, but wrong man-management in view of the penalty just awarded. Taylor was right.

Franz was a great player who went on to be a great manager, was one of the main organisers of World Cup 2006, and is plainly destined for great administrative things in either UEFA or FIFA. By 2006 the Deutscher Fussball Bund (DFB) had learned all the diplomatic and administrative lessons and applied them in staging the event. The slogan was “A Time To Make Friends.” It was a brilliant organisational success. Had the football been equal to the occasion we might have had the best tournament since unforgettable 1970.

This time fans came from every part of the globe, travelled in an outstanding transport infrastructure across the country West to East without restriction and enjoyed every second of the experience in exceptionally good weather. They mixed everywhere without a trace of nationalist venom except for an isolated incident or two, quickly dealt with. The stadia were superb, harmless national costume, beautiful girls, face paint, flags and banners everywhere. The fans areas were wonderful in how they were set-up and run and generated an atmosphere of good will even when some fans were obviously drunk. Don’t get the idea, though, it was some sort of cold regimentation – the basic organisation was set up to allow the fans to do what they wanted short of illegal behaviour. The policing was low key and sensitive. All the Germans I met, especially the young, were relaxed, good humoured, friendly and rightly proud of how things were going. Nor did they look even slightly self-conscious waving their national flag. You would have to be the ultimate curmudgeon not to wish them well.

Plainly, Germany is destined to be Europe’s most powerful democratic nation once reunification has settled down. Berlin can hardly avoid becoming the most important and best capital city in the continent. The economic statistics speak for themselves. How can it be otherwise given their abilities, relative economic strength and crucial location at the heart of the land mass? The irony is Germany will have achieved this by completely peaceful democratic means, by staying out of major conflicts and by using its huge talents in manufacture, commerce and culture. Intelligent non-Germans are even beginning to understand that the words of Deutschland Über Alles are not a belligerent bid for world domination but a plea for unity made in 1841 in the early days of nationhood. Maybe once again we will witness a flowering of artists, poets, architects, engineers and philosophers. When that happy state of affairs exists then perhaps the rest of Europe, England included, can start to let the past slip into authentic perspective. It is long overdue. The youth of modern Europe will surely do a better job than their parents and grandparents. We live in hope.

And football will have played its part. Let me tell you, you haven’t lived if you haven’t done a Mexican Wave at Iran versus Angola in Leipzig, or leapt to your feet with the locals shouting “Abseits!” “Schmutzig!” or “Schuss!” or even, in a moment of high dudgeon, “Shießer!”

Overall, it was a pity the average football level was mediocre. There were some bright individual and team moments but the tournament won’t be long remembered for its performances. No question, the most disappointing team was England and the most surprising was Germany. England sent their best squad in over thirty years and it failed to perform to even half its obvious ability. Had they played to full capacity the tournament was there to win. There can be no excuses. If the players couldn’t raise their game on this the greatest stage of all then you have to wonder what lies ahead at the European Championship in Austria/Switzerland in two years. Blaming Sven is convenient but largely stupid and of no use. Only time will tell whether replacement Steve McLaren and his permanent imbecilic grin conceal hitherto undreamed of managerial abilities. On the other hand a really young German side looked quite good and often played hungrily and with talent and spirit. As usual, the sulky von Meldrew Tendenz ended up with egg all over its face after they clamoured for Jurgen Klinsmann’s dismissal before the tournament and then found themselves, yo-yo loony as ever, with a team holding third place. You would think that kind of flake mentality would learn but it never does. Best keep throwing eggs at them.

The final sort of summed it all up. Once again a major game went to penalties and made a mockery of what the sport is all about. As I have said before, it is no way to win and no way to lose. Even the so-called “golden goal” is better since it is at least achieved in open play. Worse, the Italians won it, which means there will be an excuse to eliminate corruption from Italian consciences – and don’t think the culprits won’t make every effort to ensure that is what happens. Berlusconi’s media will do everything to conceal the truth or divert attention. The daily round of lies will intensify. It means Italian football is mostly worthless, World Cup winners or not.

I can recommend Julep’s bistro in Berlin for matches on the big screen. Just don’t turn up dressed like a Summer Twat or you’ll be shown the door and transported back to Slater Street, Croxteth or Bootle immediately. Bob the owner kindly arranged for English commentary from the BBC. Which would have been fine under normal circumstances except the Beeb’s John Motson has deteriorated to the point where it’s impossible to tell the difference between him and an old woman with piles, especially if he’s commentating on Brazil. The sort of appalling, gushing muck he came out with during the last tournament in Japorea paled into insignificance compared to this time round. If Goofy Ronaldinho came into shot Motty suddenly sounded like a fawning grandad with one foot in the grave and the other in his mouth. He really should be put out to grass or assigned to “The Antique Roadshow.” On the other hand Mark Lawrenson has come on in leaps and bounds when he avoids his strange line in shrill, girly-sounding chat. He’s better in sound only because he’s beginning to resemble a depressed bloodhound who’s just bitten into a lemon. Stick to the footy-technical epigrams, Mark, and you’ll get better. Amongst the others it was good to hear Jonathan Pearce has made real efforts to control the octaves while Peter Drury has stopped spitting into the microphone. Motty apart, the Beeb team has improved. I have no idea how ITV are doing since I stopped watching their broadcasts when it became impossible for Clive Tyldesley to get through any game featuring anybody without mentioning the Manc’s European Cup win in Barcelona two hundred years ago.

To hell with the Italians. The Germans were the real winners, a breath of fresh air on and off the pitch. Good luck to them. For us, it’s back to the drawing board and a sound kick in the behind for all those fine players who decided they couldn’t be bothered to turn up on the pitch. However, like all true footy fans I’ll be joining the Bluekipper tontine for the next Euro. I’m as crazy as they are, and so are you.

So, wilkommen, Deutschland. Du sind zu lange weg gewesen. (10/07/06)

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