The biggest stage in the world is set to host the biggest game of the football calendar this today when the German North takes on the German South in a mouth watering tie which has finally got it’s chance at the top of the European pedestal for the first time in history.
On paper we are set for a monumental battle between the two best teams in Germany for the past few years. Borussia Dortmund have lit up this year’s competition and their yellow tide of dedicated fans will have the majority of the footballing world on their side as the London sunset creeps away on Saturday night.
Their opponents and arch rivals Bayern Munich have once again efficiently graced their way through a competition which has saw them fall so often at the last few attempts. They now have the chance to rid the demons of that Chelsea loss last year at their home ground, The Allianz Arena and to send out a message to the rest of the world that they aren’t the ‘almost’ team many often label them as.
Dortmund come into this game shaking off their disappointment as a mediocre domestic season comes to a close. The 2012/13 season has saw them surrender their Bundesliga title to their very opponents this Saturday, and after seeing their star player Mario Gotze recently decide to jump ship and venture toward Munich as of next season, a sense of double injustice will surely add fire to the belly’s of this ever so talented Dortmund side that has the ears of Europe perked up and watching.
We all know Bayern Munich to be the super power of the game since the mid 70’s but their recent inconsistencies has given them nothing but fresh air to lift in this last decade or so. Twice since 1999 have they lost the European Cup to utter heartbreak, both at the hands of English sides, and both at the hands of teams that at the time were seen as the weaker squad going into the game.
Jupp Heyneckes, Bayern’s 68 year old coach, carries all the experience in the footballing world though, and with his last game being concluded by the referee’s last game at the famous new Wembley, the players will surely want to play and win for him as much they want to rid the ghost of their own European past.
A tantalising final is most definitely on the cards and I’m sure every football fan will want to mourn the end of the football season with an end of season Champions League classic. It certainly has the alarm bells of one and let’s hope the Wembley of new can create some memories to match the glorious past of the old twin towers.
Joining the German party
A personal fixation with Borussia Dortmund has led to booking a train down to London for the weekend to go and join in with the football celebrations going on in the city. You would think I have a front and centre Willy Wonka golden ticket to the final itself with a ‘meet the players’ party afterwards I’m that excited.
In fact I don’t even have entrance to the fan parks that will surround the stadium with its UEFA sponsored advertising hoardings and expensive merchandise. I do hope, however, that when taking a lap around this architecturally beautiful stadium, a ticket just floats from the air and into my ever so grateful hands, like an auburn leaf descending from its branch in deep autumn.
Tickets are hard to come by nowadays in many of the popular sports. The days of turning up to the turnstiles and paying for your ticket are over. Memberships, fan cards, season tickets, and waiting lists are the norm, more so than ever in football. The difficulty at acquiring match tickets today is equalled by the steepness in the prices. Things are being done to counteract such an increase in prices though, and this is something I will look at as the new season approaches. But for now I’d like to make comparisons. Comparisons from the early days of paying tupence for a ticket or just jumping over the wall thanks to a knee up, to today’s football marketing profit machine.
As I consider ways in which to get into Wembley tomorrow to watch my beloved second team Borussia Dortmund, I consider the consequences to attempting such an act, when 30 years ago you were most likely given a clout round the ear by the superintendent and told to pay next time round, and that would be the end of it. Whether you see me on the news or not, here’s my small take on what 30 years in football does to society:
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I read a book once by a Liverpool fan who told his tales of trips and games all across Britain and Europe in the 70’s and 80’s, known to most as the era of British club dominance on the continent. He would write how during the run up to the game against Roma in 1984, Liverpool’s first embrace with the Trevi Fountain and Italy’s capital city, there was a sea of red in the streets, bars and squares that shaped this beautiful city.
As he and his mates hopped of their bus they saw a ticket tout with a number of tickets, a poisonous leech looking to make a quick buck or two by ripping off the loyal fans who’d ventured across the lands of Western Europe to watch their team conquer all football had to offer.
As he approached the man, he asked how much, and before the man could say ‘250 Lira’ he swiped them from his sweaty grasp and ran off as fast as you could say ‘der’s ya change lad’. And with that he’d handed them out to the other grief stricken Scousers who were yet to acquire a ticket after making the arduous journey south.
Another tale told of a game at Wolves and the travelling Anfield faithful had once again showed up in their thousands towards Birmingham. As they arrived they were hastily told that without a ticket they weren’t getting in (having no ticket in those days was a common occurrence).
So a quick Scouse brainwave followed by a sledgehammer suddenly popping into the equation, the story ended in the Wolves ground having seven shades of Liverpool kicked out of it and a free invitation to the biggest party in Birmingham that weekend. By the time the stewards had realised, they had joined the masses and became a needle in a haystack thanks to the sold of crowd in the Midlands.
A strange couple of stories if we compare the impact to what would happen should anyone even try such a feat. I imagine a personal vindication by the Daily Mail would take place, as I’m stereotyped as a ‘yob’ or ‘hooligan’.
This is closely followed by an ASBO, for carrying a sledgehammer around as well as being offered counselling for scaring the general public like some sort of psychopath in the making. Add this to a trial for ‘trespassing’ the stadium as well as a potential assault charge because the guy I’ve violently stolen the ticket off is recovering in the hospital with a bout of ‘paper cut’. Injury Lawyers For You would be on the phone and I’d be bankrupt in no time as he struggles to recover from his horrific injuries.....on holiday in Marbella.
I digress.
You see my brief, albeit exaggerated version of what isn’t really that far from the truth. So tomorrow when you’re tucked up in the pub or at home, consider me in two potential scenarios. One of utter devastation at missing out on even watching the game thanks to being locked in a London cell, or the other of me, slap bang in the middle of the Dortmund army as Marco Reus scores an absolute screamer in the last minute.
I can dream.
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