Soccer violence gets a lot of press. But my experience at the Euro 2012 tournament saw that the game can be a great unifier.
I got to attend two games in Poland – Croatia versus Italy in Poznan, and Croatia versus Spain in Gdansk – and I spent the rest of my time in Berlin.
Before the Spain-Croatia match, fans of both teams partied together with nary an inkling of tension. Two hours prior to kickoff, the city square was full of fans from both squads. They gathered, drank beer and sang soccer songs. (The same was the case for the Italy-Croatia game, but, for whatever reason, not many Italian fans made the trip.)
After the Gdansk game, a massive rain and lightning storm ripped through the area. A bunch of fans took shelter in a nearby hotel and filled the front lobby. If it wasn’t for the jerseys, you might have thought everyone was cheering for the same team.  The place was buzzing with soccer camaraderie.
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Germans – or Berliners, at least – seem to watch their soccer team with a degree of detached poise.
While fireworks were heard from every corner of the city when Germany scored, the fans’ enthusiasm for their round robin victories was business-like. On game days, only a  small portion of fans were decked out in German soccer gear.
You can’t escape the game – seemingly every bar had both indoor and outdoor TVs, and there are designated “public viewing” spots – but I’m guessing the locals are more cool than rabid, because their team is almost always so darn good. Perhaps the stress levels increased when the playoffs started.
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Given how tight the rules are here, it’s always an eye-opener when you go to a place where you can just stroll around town while sipping a beer. At any time of day, and night, you can see people in Berlin walking with a big 500-ml bottle of (tasty and cheap) brew dangling from their hand.
Headed to a bar, restaurant or store but not done your beer? No bigs. Just walk in and enjoy it there – no one bats an eye.
What a world. And there was no sign of the aggressiveness so often associated with a drinking crowd.
“Overcompensation?” asked one, when I mentioned that public drinking is a no-no in these parts and that we have our fair share of late-night drunken rumbles.
•  •  •
Berliners love to drink beer and love to eat meat. Sausages left and sausages right. So when you see how thin most of them are, something doesn’t compute.
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From the department of It’s A Small World: The people seated right behind us for the Spain game were from Mississauga.
And then there was Guelph’s George Kouvalis. The Greek supporter, who attended the tourney, apparently got some screen time on TSN, looking on glumly with his team losing 4-2 to Germany in the quarterfinals.
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It’s not someone you’re likely to hear on your FM dial, but  Stephen Malkmus is a legend in indie rock circles. Malkmus fronted the band Pavement, considered, by those who are into that kind of thing, one of the most iconic indie bands of all time. I’d read a few months ago that he moved from Portland, Ore., to Berlin, so I joked a few times that, hey, maybe we’d run into him.
Sure enough, on June 13, Malkmus was seen pushing one of his children in a stroller down my cousin’s street.  I made my way towards him and introduced myself as a huge fan. And then I started to talk, well, way too fast. Neddy got sweaty. He is reputed as being a bit aloof, but he was a doll (I’d met him once before, but not nearly this randomly). He was chuffed that we came from Canada to watch soccer, and happily posed for a photo.
The next week, Guelph’s Vish Khanna interviewed the man himself in a chat that can be seen at the CBC Music website.  As the interview was ending, Khanna gushed to Malkmus about how big an influence and inspiration he has been to him. There, I feel better . . .
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Driving at obscene speeds on the German Autobahn, where there is no speed limit, certainly was not on my must-do list while in Europe.
But being in a high-end German vehicle that’s doing 195 km/h felt about the same as doing 80 km/h in the cookie-cutter car I own.
(Still – don’t tell my mom.)
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You gotta love the Irish.
Our train back to Berlin from Poznan after the Italy game was scheduled for 4:30 a.m., so we had lots of time. We hit up an Irish bar to watch Ireland take on Spain.
Spain won the game with ease (4-0). But if you’d have walked into the place and seen the Irish fans and their jubilant singing, you’d have sworn it was Ireland who was doing the thrashing.
Win, lose or draw – they celebrate.