Ok, so we scraped through against Trinidad & Tobago and we’ve already booked our place in the second round. Now all we have to do is finish top of the group and avoid a tough game with Germany. However, tying up loose ends against the Swedes has never been easy for us – we haven’t beaten them since 483BC (before Cole).
But now that I’m back on St George’s great island and away from the incessantly clement German weather, it’s easy look back fondly at a tremendous final week. And so here are our final Group B England match hints and tips:
- Leaving Nürnberg and moving into deepest, darkest Bavaria you will find that the natives will have trouble understanding your higher German (or hoche Deutsche*) as they have a dialect so strong it is comparable to a Scouser communicating with a Cockney whilst chewing a mouth full of live turkey (gobble, gobble, gobble)
- For a touch of civility, head as far south as possible until the DeutscheBahn is blocked by a large lake called the Bodensee, where you will find a small town called Lindau. The annual Bodensee Regatta is on a par with Aspen in that BMW and Rolex sponsor everything and that streams of fresh-faced folk wander the streets wearing polo shirts and chinos like they never went out of fashion. A far cry from the bellies back at the stadium singing, “Let’s go fucking mental, let’s go fucking mental”.
- Whilst soaking up this idyllic lake atmosphere, bordering the scenic mountains of Austria and Switzerland, try counting how many times you say, “Ah, this is the life” per day. You’ll need to take your shoes off to continue the counting on your sun-blessed toes.
- Despite being situated in the middle of nowhere, you will find that when Italy play a match, and no matter what the final score (even if they were playing a 9-man USA team and still only got a draw - with an own goal), you will see at least one Italian Fiat car go tearing round the narrow cobbled streets of your island town, honking its horn, waving its flag and containing about 11 young Italian lads who are chuffed to bits they even managed to score.
- With your new-found grasp of the German language you can pass the time by creating some hilarious bi-lingual jokes, such as:
“Doctor, doctor. I keep thinking I’m a comical German vegetable”
“Well, that is most gemusing”
OR
“Doctor, doctor. I keep thinking I’m turning into a German sausage”
“Well, I think you’ve taken a turn for the Würst”
- Are you needing to hire a bike on which you can wind your way speedily down the Austrian mountains back into Germany? Not sure about the helmet policy? Well, if you hire a rickety old bike with a front basket and bad brakes you need not worry because a helmet isn’t necessary, you are apparently completely safe from injury. Whereas if you hire a brand new bike, one that has gears and brakes perhaps, you should definitely wear one because danger is imminent!
- Before the big game against Sweden, if you’re renting an apartment in the University area of Cologne be aware that at a time of day known in England as ‘unGodly’ three things are likely to happen:
a) the entire street-sweeping team of Cologne (and their magnificent machines) will be booked to pay particular attention to your very street
b) the person in the apartment to your right is especially keen to get those IKEA shelves up and simply must start drilling
c) the person in the apartment to your left is especially keen on opening his new ‘Singalong with Lou Reed karaoke pack’ that comes free with a one-string guitar and a booklet on how to sing just one note
- During the day as you try to find a spare piece of ground that doesn’t already have an Englishman occupying it, try playing a game of ‘Spot the Southerner’ as 99% of the England’s supporters tickets were seemingly donated to the Northern Monkey’s Away Day Salvation.
- Being part of the crowd at all of the Mastercard-sponsored World Cup Group B England matches? Priceless! Not be able to pay for a darn thing in Germany with said Mastercard because it’s next to impossible to find an establishment that accepts anything but cash? Odd!
- During the game, if things are looking grim yet your team is out-shooting the opposition by 18 shots to 4, do not fret. With only 10 minutes of the game remaining the law of averages dictates that your team will score three goals in 6 minutes (see also: Australia V Japan, Spain V Tunisia…). In the meantime keep yourself busy by continually singing ‘The Great Escape’ – a song so powerful in its presence it is sure to stay in your head for weeks and BLOODY WEEKS to come…..aaarrrggghhhh!! (Thankfully though, you wont hear anyone on the terraces chanting Embrace’s World Cup song)
- And finally, seeing as the last game against Sweden doesn’t kick off until 9pm local time you, and your girlfriend, have the entire day to eat as little as possible and sample as many local Kölsche* beers as you can. This, in turn, will have the following results:
a) you girlfriend will decide that she’s had just about enough of that stupid “10 German Bombers” song and subsequently tell each and every one of the 100 or so English fans singing it exactly what she thinks of them with voluminous conviction
b) you will be so inebriated that you’ll miss the beginning of the game and the all-important is-Walcott-playing line-up
c) you will spend the last few minutes before kick off outside the stadium trying to rid your hiccup-possessed girlfriend of her demons
d) you wont remember Michael Owen’s injury OR Steven Gerrard’s goal
e) you will swear at your team a lot more than usual
f) you will make a lot of friends on the ride back to your apartment – telling the Germans they can easily beat Swedes in the next round and telling the Swedes more or less the same thing about the Germans
g) you will spend most of the 8-hour journey back to London the following day using the toilet facilities to vomit away the bratwürst-and-beer belly you have fashioned over the last two weeks
h) the trembling, feverish and generally green state you are in will also ensure that you get a visit from the paramedics at Düsseldorf airport. By performing all manner of tests on you, in full view of everyone there, they are simply checking that you are actually capable of getting on a plane. They will also give you a ride in the ambulance to your connecting terminal, those nice chaps.
Of what I can remember, Joe Cole’s goal was a absolute corker, so we’ll raise the rating of the game from a 5 to a 6 for England. And Sol, get your act together!
In closing, it is fair to say that Germany is a place I could see myself living in. Sure, the Germans are rightfully embarrassed about things like Hitler, Hasslehoff and their clinical efficiency (actually, forget the last two, those aren’t embarrassing matters, they are points of national pride) but there is plenty there to boast about. Everything is bigger and more appealing: the beds, the beers, the BMWs, and even the boobs. Deutscheland, ich liebe dich, danke schön für dienen World Cup. Sehen sie in die finale*.
*we take no responsibility for the bad German spelling and grammar in this article
23 June 2006
17 June 2006
Three Nilth - a work of 'faction'
Remarkable occurrences happen all the time, usually to unremarkable people. They are ubiquitous. The TV news is a crazed messenger, churning out up-to-the-minute, remarkable stories of woe, dread, disease and instability. Each one claimed as an ‘exclusive’ and yet all still appear on every channel.The written word was a remarkable occurrence in itself. It propelled man from Neanderthal beast to knowing being. Its linear text in every volumous tome contains whimsical remarkable moments. Occupying every shelf in every bookshop is an infinity of narrative explorations into moments of remarkable achievement, behaviour, vision and reflection. Without these chapters of captured remarkableness, we, the remarkable humans, would undoubtedly fail to ask questions of our existence.
However, rare are those remarkable moments, those glitches in the psychic system, those question marks in a sentence that delightfully occupy those regions of the ‘unknown’, or the state that we do not yet know. Occasionally, our remarkable moments are remarkably co-existent.
Agnetha, Anni-Frid, Benny and Björn were, as a collective, unequivocally remarkable. They were the harbingers of Euro-vision, a mantle they wore with gleeful, Scandinavian recklessness. Yet, on this particular date, and despite its befitting nature, their performance was to fashion their very future together.
They had been invited to put their talents on display before royalty. The cream of the Swedish entertainment world had gathered together to applaud the marriage of their King, Carl XVI Gustaf Folke Hubertus, and his German-Brazilian wife, Silvia Renate Bernadotte Sommerlath. The song chosen by the band to mark the occasion was ‘Dancing Queen’.
Although the auspicious show and the consequent engagement was an implicit success, the subsequent deluge of events was truly extraordinary. The Swedish press hounded the band for writing what they deemed an inappropriate song for a royal occasion. The band was distraught, and innocently claimed the song was born some six months previous. Ravaged by the media’s campaign to ignite national animosity towards the band, the four members fled overseas in order to use their fame to it’s the full advantage. Sweden would never witness their brilliance, as a complete entity, again.
Soon, cracks started to make themselves known and load bearing shoulders drooped in accord with their heads. The tension filtering through the band steadily grew inescapably until nothing but a split was satisfactory.
Agnetha, Benny and Björn reunited just once to perform ‘Dancing Queen’ live on stage – at a gala held by the King of Sweden to celebrate his 30th wedding anniversary with his Queen Silvia. Anni-Frid did not attend, although she had been invited. She was the song’s original author and gave her consent for it to be played with great, yet furtive, anguish.
Had the true meaning of the song been leaked to either the band or the Swedish press, there would have been a greater understanding of the real reasons she left the band. Her initial penned formula, during her formative fjord-dwelling years, depicted a metaphorically, fictional and unrelenting autobiographical account of a young woman’s desire to lay claim to the Swedish King. For Anni-Frid the song represented everything she had once felt for a King she did not know.
As Anni-Frid began to sing the “young and sweet, only seventeen” chorus, keeping an exemplary, shining entertainer’s exterior, in the presence of the King and his wife, she inwardly felt every word as a blow from a knife.
At that very same moment, separated by some three thousand miles and eight different time zones, Pak Poon, a young biology student and scientific visionary, was sat at his desk in the Biochemistry Department of the Arizona State University. His only companion was his radio, clumsily wedged between a book about the binary system and an Arizona State snow storm he’d once bought because he liked the irony. He was tuned in locally to WKRB…
“…and this is one goes out to all those stargasers out there, searching for the answer to all your dreams. This is Abba and ‘Dancing Queen’….”
Being that it had been Pak’s favourite song of the year to date; ‘Dancing Queen’ was instantly recognisable as a relative soundtrack to his life at the present time. And the fact that the DJ had introduced it in such a manner meant that this remarkable defining moment mirrored that of Anni-Frid’s. Pak was waiting on some news, and Abba were the mediator’s choral backing.
Many arduous months and a scattering of short seasons had passed since Pak and fellow scientist, Michael Wells, had begun working on this latest project. Little else had been their existence since they had first met. In that time Michael’s hair had grown from army-surplus style to dangling-in-his-cereal style. Michael lived for cereal and science. The paper they were writing was based around the ‘Ultracentrification of hydrated egg lecithin in benzene solution’, and their ferocious work ethic had augmented into feisty quarrels at times. Michael suffered substantial losses in his personal life, Pak suffered substantial losses to his hair.
Anni-Frid was just beginning her chorus when Michael tumbled through the doorway with a demented glare upon his face. Their project had been accepted. They had finally been published.
Remarkably, whilst Pak had been alone in the office, awaiting yet another disappointment, he had toyed with the idea of capitulating to the Gods of science and decreeing self-banishment from the subject for lack of qualification. He meandered, instead, around the recollections of his youthful aspirations and the pursuit of a fire-fighter’s commission. Of course, once Michael had delivered, there was no need to follow on. It had been purely by accident that he was in the field of science after a bizarre twist of fate had placed him in the wrong class.
As a young, ebullient boy he absorb every story he could find about Red Adair, the lauded fire-fighter and national hero; the man who had fought the 137-metre tall ‘Devil’s Cigarette’ pillar of fire in the Sahara in 1962; the man that only John Wayne could play in the movie version of the same feat, Hellfighters; the man who, unbeknownst to Pak, was eating his celebratory 61st birthday lunch as Pak revisited those childhood dreams.
Red also liked music. He enjoyed the way the southern drawl of a country song helped to eradicate any moment of doubt that came before the danger zone. Equally, he was partial to the twee soulfulness of any American female vocalist who would subsequently bring him back from the brink. Now beginning his 62nd year, this remarkable man planned to spend the day relaxing. Ted Nugent had personally invited Red to his concert at the Sam Houston Coliseum in Red’s beloved Texas. Nugent had heard rumours that Red had once successfully tackled a raging oil refinery blast only moments after listening to his Free-For-All album. Nugent wanted to ask Red in person if this was just pure speculation.
“No, no. That’s not true; it was actually Fleetwood Mac,” Red confessed, immediately wishing he hadn’t.
“Wassat, Red. You’ll have to repeat what you said? I can’t hear you too well. I’m deaf in this left ear,” Nugent replied loudly.
Luckily for Red a vociferous sound check was in process just metres away from Nugent’s good ear. Red never liked to upset or disappoint anyone and this noisy blessing gave him the opportunity to spin a white lie; thus feeling more gracious about accepting such a friendly invitation on his birthday.
“Yep, it sure was. Funnily enough I had been list ‘Turn It Up’ when the call came in. We’d already known about the fire a few hours earlier but me and the crew hadn’t got the call up until that point. But sure enough there I was…,” and sure enough Red launched into the other aspect of his personality that he excelled at, namely telling stories about himself. Besides, it was his birthday and he had rescued 28 people from a fire that eventually lasted 36 hours.
Once Red got rolling with his stories, it would need a mighty big fire to put him out. Predictably, Nugent soon began to bore of the Texan, almost snidely wishing he hadn’t invited him. The copious amount of cigar smoke blowing from his Red’s gills, although an appropriate prop for tales about fire, only added to Nugent’s growing misery as a recent non-smoker.
(FOR THE REMAINDER OF THIS PIECE, PLEASE CONTACT CHRISTIAN)
16 June 2006
England Vs Trinidad & Tobago
The hard bit is over – the nightmare train journey to get to the first game has passed; with hindsight, 3 cities in 24 hours seems a breeze; the high-adrenaline of the England-Paraguay game (the hardest in the group – trust me, the Swedes are rubbish) is a dim memory; now it’s time to relax.
So this is the middle part of our group campaign and what better way to kick back than to watch Trinidad and Tobago succumb to the god-like genius of Steven Gerrard. We don’t need the rest of the team to play, he can do it all by himself! (I made this prediction before the game, and was I right?!).
Here are some tips to help guide you through that crucial 2nd group match:
- To prepare for Nürnberg, take a detour via the idyllic town of Offenberg so you can experience World Cup fever at a provicial level. An added bonus - Offenberg is only one stop away from the England base camp, Baden-Baden, giving you the opportunity to shout, “Sven, Sven, give us a wave, give us a wave, give us a wave” as you speed by the mountain-side resort at 150 mph.
- Save money on food: taking lunch from the youth hostel breakfast buffet will cost you €1, whereas stealing from the hotel won’t (as long as the nice old lady isn’t looking as you stuff your girlfriend’s strategically placed handbag with a mini-picnic’s worth of Babybels, apples and Actimel yoghurt drinks).
- Don’t miss a minute of any World Cups matches AND work on your suntan: congregate in the delightful town square where a beach atmosphere has been created with deckchairs, parasols and water jets for children (and drunk adults!) to play in. If the beach isn’t to your liking, then why not try the box seat - a deluxe makeshift restaurant on a raised platform complete with white linen, football-related paraphenalia and a superb view of the screen.
- Show your national (or adopted-national) pride during Australia’s first game by getting kitted up with flags, face paint and sun-visors, only to find the square practically empty when you get there. No matter, a few Radler ciders or large Reislings and your vocal support will soon rear its profanitous head, despite the presence of local children. Well, after all, you are Aussie, you are drunk and your team is losing unnecessarily in a tense World Cup clash with Japan.
- When Australia finally wins the thrilling match 3-1, thanks to some inspired play by Everton’s main man, Tim Cahill, tie your flag to the small balcony of your street-facing hotel room. If you cant find any string to secure it, simply do the Aussie thing: use the rubber-elastic headband from your Speedo goggles instead. Bonza!
- Despite causing a tremendous scene earlier in the day, your show of support will be dwarfed later that evening. Over 100 screaming Italian fans, aided by a selection of horns, flags and drums, will make you wonder if you are still in Germany.
- Waking the next day with an Italian-sized headache, the weather will be Italian-hot so be sure to wear your shortest shorts. And if you’re thinking about wearing socks with your sandels, do not fret, it is still cool with the natives!
- Get ‘French Manicure White’ and NOT ‘Nivea Turbo Colour (not-so-white) White’ nail polish for those extra special St George’s cross toenails you’ve been dying to paint all week.
- To further break up your journey to Nürnberg, visit the city of Ulm on the river Donau. Whilst you are waiting to check in at the Jugendherdberge (Youth Hostel), do not fear when a gang of German youths approach. They aren’t out to get you, they just want to practice their English with stereotypical questions like; “Where are you from?” “How old are you?” and “Do you think Sven should play the 4-4-1-1 technique he so readily adopts, or should he punch above his weight against lesser teams, such as Trinidad & Tobago, thus proving England are a finely-tuned goal-scoring machine?”
- Germany bicycles. They like to be hired: Nothing beats cyling through the Baden-Würtemberg* landscape, discovering hidden lakes and stopping for lunch in beer gardens next to babbling streams.
- The best place to watch the all-important Germany-Poland game is a kebab shop, because;
a) you will find two spare seats
b) they serve you beer without the pfand/refund policy
c) they have queue-less toilets
d) you will see the game quicker on the small screen TV, as there is a time delay of about 3 seconds on the bigger screens outside which makes for some interesting three-part harmony ooohs, aahhs, and Es komme heim, es komme heim, Fussball komme heim*.
- When trying to sing along with the German national anthem, to demonstrate your goodwill, it is not PC to bellow “Deutschland, Deutschland über alles”* – the lyrics have actually been altered to reflect the changing times.
- Rather than trash the train to Nürnberg in true English style, maybe sit quietly reading an old copy of Time Out or NME or, if you’re feeling up to it, practice your German by starting a conversation with some very friendly locals about which region hat die besten Bratwürsten*.
- If the friendly local asks you if there is any difference between England, Scotland and Wales in the World Cup, you should reply with a resounding “Yes, England are good”.
- What’s the best way to psych yourself before the game? Is it:
a) get tanked in the Old Town – shirts off, shaved heads, bad tattoos, pie-shaped bellies, taunting whoever is watching? OR
b) conduct your very own mini carnival complete with costumes, marching drummers and plenty o’ rump shakin’, Triiiiinidaad styleeee?
- If you want to see your team leave for the stadium, just look for the biggest hotel near the main station. It will be the one with the word ‘Grand’ in its name and a helicopter hovering permanently above it.
- Once at the stadium, avoid those fans going in the opposite direction, taking out their false teeth with a look of menace on their tattooed faces. There may be trouble ahead.
- Pre-match entertainment is brought to you courtesy of the Korean & Japanese refereeing staff, whose tai-chi/jujitsu warm up is perfectly in sync with Abba’s Supertrooper playing over the tannoy. Priceless.
- During a close game, Sven will bow to the pressure of 30,000 fans chanting “Roooooooney, Roooooooney” and bring on the young scallywag to inject some much needed pace into the game.
- In post-win high spirits remember that riding down the luggage escalator in the main station is not clever! Especially as the German polizei are video taping your every drunken move.
- Nürnberg is a beautiful city, full of biergartens and quaint bridges and is probably best seen without 40,000 English fans running amok, so make a note to come back again one day.
- Before you leave, be sure to have the Nürnbergen bratwürst*. These mini sausages are eaten three at a time in a small baguette. Make them your late meal at the Opera house biergarten and then, if it takes your fancy, head for the red light district, only metres away on the conveniently named Frauenmauer Strasse*, for a game of ‘hide the mini bratwürst’.
Thanks to some inspired play by young Aaron “Speedy Gonzales”
Lennon, the second of England’s group games was rescued from the jaws of utter despondency, to bump it up from a 6 to a 7 out of 10.
In closing, let me just say how glad I am to have pulled Serbia & Montenegro in the sweepstakes – the ‘most goals conceded’ title is mine for the taking.
*we take no responsibilty for the bad German spelling and grammar in this article
So this is the middle part of our group campaign and what better way to kick back than to watch Trinidad and Tobago succumb to the god-like genius of Steven Gerrard. We don’t need the rest of the team to play, he can do it all by himself! (I made this prediction before the game, and was I right?!).
Here are some tips to help guide you through that crucial 2nd group match:
- To prepare for Nürnberg, take a detour via the idyllic town of Offenberg so you can experience World Cup fever at a provicial level. An added bonus - Offenberg is only one stop away from the England base camp, Baden-Baden, giving you the opportunity to shout, “Sven, Sven, give us a wave, give us a wave, give us a wave” as you speed by the mountain-side resort at 150 mph.
- Save money on food: taking lunch from the youth hostel breakfast buffet will cost you €1, whereas stealing from the hotel won’t (as long as the nice old lady isn’t looking as you stuff your girlfriend’s strategically placed handbag with a mini-picnic’s worth of Babybels, apples and Actimel yoghurt drinks).
- Don’t miss a minute of any World Cups matches AND work on your suntan: congregate in the delightful town square where a beach atmosphere has been created with deckchairs, parasols and water jets for children (and drunk adults!) to play in. If the beach isn’t to your liking, then why not try the box seat - a deluxe makeshift restaurant on a raised platform complete with white linen, football-related paraphenalia and a superb view of the screen.
- Show your national (or adopted-national) pride during Australia’s first game by getting kitted up with flags, face paint and sun-visors, only to find the square practically empty when you get there. No matter, a few Radler ciders or large Reislings and your vocal support will soon rear its profanitous head, despite the presence of local children. Well, after all, you are Aussie, you are drunk and your team is losing unnecessarily in a tense World Cup clash with Japan.
- When Australia finally wins the thrilling match 3-1, thanks to some inspired play by Everton’s main man, Tim Cahill, tie your flag to the small balcony of your street-facing hotel room. If you cant find any string to secure it, simply do the Aussie thing: use the rubber-elastic headband from your Speedo goggles instead. Bonza!
- Despite causing a tremendous scene earlier in the day, your show of support will be dwarfed later that evening. Over 100 screaming Italian fans, aided by a selection of horns, flags and drums, will make you wonder if you are still in Germany.
- Waking the next day with an Italian-sized headache, the weather will be Italian-hot so be sure to wear your shortest shorts. And if you’re thinking about wearing socks with your sandels, do not fret, it is still cool with the natives!
- Get ‘French Manicure White’ and NOT ‘Nivea Turbo Colour (not-so-white) White’ nail polish for those extra special St George’s cross toenails you’ve been dying to paint all week.
- To further break up your journey to Nürnberg, visit the city of Ulm on the river Donau. Whilst you are waiting to check in at the Jugendherdberge (Youth Hostel), do not fear when a gang of German youths approach. They aren’t out to get you, they just want to practice their English with stereotypical questions like; “Where are you from?” “How old are you?” and “Do you think Sven should play the 4-4-1-1 technique he so readily adopts, or should he punch above his weight against lesser teams, such as Trinidad & Tobago, thus proving England are a finely-tuned goal-scoring machine?”
- Germany bicycles. They like to be hired: Nothing beats cyling through the Baden-Würtemberg* landscape, discovering hidden lakes and stopping for lunch in beer gardens next to babbling streams.
- The best place to watch the all-important Germany-Poland game is a kebab shop, because;
a) you will find two spare seats
b) they serve you beer without the pfand/refund policy
c) they have queue-less toilets
d) you will see the game quicker on the small screen TV, as there is a time delay of about 3 seconds on the bigger screens outside which makes for some interesting three-part harmony ooohs, aahhs, and Es komme heim, es komme heim, Fussball komme heim*.
- When trying to sing along with the German national anthem, to demonstrate your goodwill, it is not PC to bellow “Deutschland, Deutschland über alles”* – the lyrics have actually been altered to reflect the changing times.
- Rather than trash the train to Nürnberg in true English style, maybe sit quietly reading an old copy of Time Out or NME or, if you’re feeling up to it, practice your German by starting a conversation with some very friendly locals about which region hat die besten Bratwürsten*.
- If the friendly local asks you if there is any difference between England, Scotland and Wales in the World Cup, you should reply with a resounding “Yes, England are good”.
- What’s the best way to psych yourself before the game? Is it:
a) get tanked in the Old Town – shirts off, shaved heads, bad tattoos, pie-shaped bellies, taunting whoever is watching? OR
b) conduct your very own mini carnival complete with costumes, marching drummers and plenty o’ rump shakin’, Triiiiinidaad styleeee?
- If you want to see your team leave for the stadium, just look for the biggest hotel near the main station. It will be the one with the word ‘Grand’ in its name and a helicopter hovering permanently above it.
- Once at the stadium, avoid those fans going in the opposite direction, taking out their false teeth with a look of menace on their tattooed faces. There may be trouble ahead.
- Pre-match entertainment is brought to you courtesy of the Korean & Japanese refereeing staff, whose tai-chi/jujitsu warm up is perfectly in sync with Abba’s Supertrooper playing over the tannoy. Priceless.
- During a close game, Sven will bow to the pressure of 30,000 fans chanting “Roooooooney, Roooooooney” and bring on the young scallywag to inject some much needed pace into the game.
- In post-win high spirits remember that riding down the luggage escalator in the main station is not clever! Especially as the German polizei are video taping your every drunken move.
- Nürnberg is a beautiful city, full of biergartens and quaint bridges and is probably best seen without 40,000 English fans running amok, so make a note to come back again one day.
- Before you leave, be sure to have the Nürnbergen bratwürst*. These mini sausages are eaten three at a time in a small baguette. Make them your late meal at the Opera house biergarten and then, if it takes your fancy, head for the red light district, only metres away on the conveniently named Frauenmauer Strasse*, for a game of ‘hide the mini bratwürst’.
Thanks to some inspired play by young Aaron “Speedy Gonzales”
Lennon, the second of England’s group games was rescued from the jaws of utter despondency, to bump it up from a 6 to a 7 out of 10.
In closing, let me just say how glad I am to have pulled Serbia & Montenegro in the sweepstakes – the ‘most goals conceded’ title is mine for the taking.
*we take no responsibilty for the bad German spelling and grammar in this article
11 June 2006
England Vs Paraguay
I weep for our paled-skinned, backward nation. Germany is just as good as England, only better. They do everything we do, but better, have everthing we have, yet it’s better – you get the idea…
In England the sun doesn’t always shine, the people never smile, (especially if you’re a foreigner), and youths certainly won’t want to pratice their Germany on you. You wouldn’t get 24 bottles (not cans!) of high quality (not wifebeater) beer for £6 in your local Tescos. You wouldn’t get a special luggage conveyor belt running up the steep stairs of the Piccadilly line interchange. You wouldn’t get sparkling clean rivers running through any major cities (you would, however, be able to use Chip & Pin. Huzzah for England!).
As I lie here in my hotel, in my pants (because it’s so hot) with my big fat Pilsner belly, I feel I should be sharing some incites I’ve had on the England (cup-winning) trail so far.
So here is how to tackle your first group match:
• When you land at Dusseldorf airport, walk a little faster than normal, as the train you need to catch is guarenteed to be pulling away just as you descend the stairs to the S-bahn.
• Make sure to stash a lot of 50 cent pieces in your pockets so that every time you arrive at a Hauptbahnhof you can use the extra nice and clean facilities (70 cent if it’s a super posh one).
• Enjoy the opening game of the World Cup in a town full of partying Germans. And don’t be afraid when an over-enthusiastic drunk flag waver says “Entschuldigen” after almost breaking his flag over your head - this means “sorry” not “what the fuck are you lookin’ at?!”
• Partake in as many foot-long bratwurst-in-a-six-inch-bun as possible.
• Laugh as hordes of German and Swedish fans come together to suddenly support Equador quite vocally.
• When you are catching your inter city express train to Frankfurt have faith that it will leave from the platform indicated on the yellow departure notice boards. Do NOT listen to friendly staff who tell you to go to platform 7 – they are lying. Don’t get on the first train that comes along either because even though it might have your destination written on the front it will be the 3-hour beautiful scenic detour of the Rhine vineyard district, which is great if you don’t have a World Cup game to go to in the few hours.
• Trust the onboard DeutschBahn rail staff with impeccable English as they patiently assist every English fan who has bought the wrong ticket (you wouldn’t see that on the 16:28 from Doncaster to Plymouth).
• Make sure that three years prior to the World Cup you make friends with as many Germans as possible. Come the day of the first game, you will have someone to call when you arrive at Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof (with your 32kg purple suitcase full of cold weather clothing that you’ll never use) to find all storage lockers full and the luggage office closed.
• Make sure your mobile phone is set for international roaming so you can call said German friend when fit hits the shan.
• When an empty S-bahn train pulls up to a platform full of singing English fans, you can guarentee it will drive off again without opening the doors. This is because the Germans have seen the movie Football Factory and believe we are all gagging-for-a-fight hooligans. This perception will be confirmed later by your German friend, when, drunkenly, he tries to incite you to riot with him just for a laugh.
• Don’t take the risk of buying black market tickets – the entrance proceedure is Teutonically efficient and they will check everyone’s ticket and passport. And anyway, if you’re a real fan, you would’ve bought your tickets on the Fifa website over a year ago.
• Don’t bring a West Ham flag to the game, the hammer insignia can be misconstrued as having nazi or fascist connitations and will be confiscated.
• Marvel at the brand, spanking new Frankfurt stadium, complete with ultra large screens suspended high above the pitch (but not high enough to be safe from an errant Paul Robinson goal kick!)
• Avoid queues for beer by purchasing your beverages during the national anthems. As a side note, be mindful of getting back to your seat before the kick off, however, because you don’t want to miss that early goal now do ya?
• Blokes, time for payback during the half time interval, avoid embarrassing urine stains by using the women’s loos for a change, otherwise you are likely to miss the start of the second half as the queue for the men’s is longer than Shaun Wright-Phillips’ World Cup wait.
• Don’t embarrass yourself and your nation by singing the “There were 10 German bombers in the air” song – it’s just plain rude and you HAVE been watching too much Football Factory!
• Remember to boo along with the rest of the 90% English crowd when Micheal Owen is replaced by the wunderkind Hargreaves.
• Pay for your match drinks and post-match dinner by staying behind after the game and collecting as many plastic cups as you can – you can cash in on everyone’s laziness because each one is worth €1 in pfand or glass deposit.
• Staying behind also means you can play the ‘spot Victoria Beckham leaving the stadium’ game or the ‘try to get your flag waving, post-match winning dance on the big screen’ game (did you see us?!)
• After the game, if you’re trying to buy an official MasterCard Addidas Phillips Coca Cola Budweiser Fuji Yahoo Hyundai Deutches Telekom Continental McDonald’s World Cup program make sure your German comprehension is up to scratch because there wont be any English versions left. While you’re at the counter it would be funny for everyone around you if you ask the server, in a loud voice, if he is totally out of Hargreaves shirts yet.
• Also check that your girlfriend is in a line of sight as she will be mobbed by English lads on the post-match pull.
• And finally, before leaving for Germany, be sure to remember the name of every person you ever met, because you are bound to bump into at least one of them at the game.
Post-match barbeques with the natives and travelling into the sunset on the train to Heidelberg with a crowd estatic Geordies gives this first game an overall 8 out 10 mark from us.
Bring on Nurenburg and the Tobagons!
In England the sun doesn’t always shine, the people never smile, (especially if you’re a foreigner), and youths certainly won’t want to pratice their Germany on you. You wouldn’t get 24 bottles (not cans!) of high quality (not wifebeater) beer for £6 in your local Tescos. You wouldn’t get a special luggage conveyor belt running up the steep stairs of the Piccadilly line interchange. You wouldn’t get sparkling clean rivers running through any major cities (you would, however, be able to use Chip & Pin. Huzzah for England!).
As I lie here in my hotel, in my pants (because it’s so hot) with my big fat Pilsner belly, I feel I should be sharing some incites I’ve had on the England (cup-winning) trail so far.
So here is how to tackle your first group match:
• When you land at Dusseldorf airport, walk a little faster than normal, as the train you need to catch is guarenteed to be pulling away just as you descend the stairs to the S-bahn.
• Make sure to stash a lot of 50 cent pieces in your pockets so that every time you arrive at a Hauptbahnhof you can use the extra nice and clean facilities (70 cent if it’s a super posh one).
• Enjoy the opening game of the World Cup in a town full of partying Germans. And don’t be afraid when an over-enthusiastic drunk flag waver says “Entschuldigen” after almost breaking his flag over your head - this means “sorry” not “what the fuck are you lookin’ at?!”
• Partake in as many foot-long bratwurst-in-a-six-inch-bun as possible.
• Laugh as hordes of German and Swedish fans come together to suddenly support Equador quite vocally.
• When you are catching your inter city express train to Frankfurt have faith that it will leave from the platform indicated on the yellow departure notice boards. Do NOT listen to friendly staff who tell you to go to platform 7 – they are lying. Don’t get on the first train that comes along either because even though it might have your destination written on the front it will be the 3-hour beautiful scenic detour of the Rhine vineyard district, which is great if you don’t have a World Cup game to go to in the few hours.
• Trust the onboard DeutschBahn rail staff with impeccable English as they patiently assist every English fan who has bought the wrong ticket (you wouldn’t see that on the 16:28 from Doncaster to Plymouth).
• Make sure that three years prior to the World Cup you make friends with as many Germans as possible. Come the day of the first game, you will have someone to call when you arrive at Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof (with your 32kg purple suitcase full of cold weather clothing that you’ll never use) to find all storage lockers full and the luggage office closed.
• Make sure your mobile phone is set for international roaming so you can call said German friend when fit hits the shan.
• When an empty S-bahn train pulls up to a platform full of singing English fans, you can guarentee it will drive off again without opening the doors. This is because the Germans have seen the movie Football Factory and believe we are all gagging-for-a-fight hooligans. This perception will be confirmed later by your German friend, when, drunkenly, he tries to incite you to riot with him just for a laugh.
• Don’t take the risk of buying black market tickets – the entrance proceedure is Teutonically efficient and they will check everyone’s ticket and passport. And anyway, if you’re a real fan, you would’ve bought your tickets on the Fifa website over a year ago.
• Don’t bring a West Ham flag to the game, the hammer insignia can be misconstrued as having nazi or fascist connitations and will be confiscated.
• Marvel at the brand, spanking new Frankfurt stadium, complete with ultra large screens suspended high above the pitch (but not high enough to be safe from an errant Paul Robinson goal kick!)
• Avoid queues for beer by purchasing your beverages during the national anthems. As a side note, be mindful of getting back to your seat before the kick off, however, because you don’t want to miss that early goal now do ya?
• Blokes, time for payback during the half time interval, avoid embarrassing urine stains by using the women’s loos for a change, otherwise you are likely to miss the start of the second half as the queue for the men’s is longer than Shaun Wright-Phillips’ World Cup wait.
• Don’t embarrass yourself and your nation by singing the “There were 10 German bombers in the air” song – it’s just plain rude and you HAVE been watching too much Football Factory!
• Remember to boo along with the rest of the 90% English crowd when Micheal Owen is replaced by the wunderkind Hargreaves.
• Pay for your match drinks and post-match dinner by staying behind after the game and collecting as many plastic cups as you can – you can cash in on everyone’s laziness because each one is worth €1 in pfand or glass deposit.
• Staying behind also means you can play the ‘spot Victoria Beckham leaving the stadium’ game or the ‘try to get your flag waving, post-match winning dance on the big screen’ game (did you see us?!)
• After the game, if you’re trying to buy an official MasterCard Addidas Phillips Coca Cola Budweiser Fuji Yahoo Hyundai Deutches Telekom Continental McDonald’s World Cup program make sure your German comprehension is up to scratch because there wont be any English versions left. While you’re at the counter it would be funny for everyone around you if you ask the server, in a loud voice, if he is totally out of Hargreaves shirts yet.
• Also check that your girlfriend is in a line of sight as she will be mobbed by English lads on the post-match pull.
• And finally, before leaving for Germany, be sure to remember the name of every person you ever met, because you are bound to bump into at least one of them at the game.
Post-match barbeques with the natives and travelling into the sunset on the train to Heidelberg with a crowd estatic Geordies gives this first game an overall 8 out 10 mark from us.
Bring on Nurenburg and the Tobagons!
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