Fussy Fussy Fussball.


Despite the warning that picture may present, I find football itself to be such a glorious joke I can’t even exercise a right to comment. The Euro Cup is here! And already when in Rome… Or Heidelberg, whatever takes your fancy, it’s time to throw off any sense of patriotism I might have ever experienced, emboss myself in black, yellow and red and then shout; “Schlaaaaaand!” to the high heavens of whatever pub I may be in. Watching the euro games, much like the Eurovision, when actually living on the continent, provides such a different experience. There’s the same level of unity and brotherhood you find at any game surrounded by fellow supporters, but whether this is a German or just Euro Cup thing I’d never noticed, there’s less antagonism for the other team, but more a focus on those around you. Which of course, in a German pub watching a German game, is going to have a high chance of friendly bias. Hanging with the kraut buddies and being taught by the ever stimulating Stephan, exactly how to drink a German beer was a superb entrance in the German way of hyper, costume wearing, flag waving support for their team.

It helps that Germany actually won their first game, even if the first 2/3rds were awful.


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