Best shitty day ever

So I’m back in Munich now after the debacle in Gelsenkirchen. All things considered though, Bryan and I had a great time. (Speaking of Bryan, he has his own blog that’s more soccer/World Cup oriented; check him out at 2006cup.blogspot.com).

In any event, here’s how things went down: we left Munich early in the morning so we can get to Gelsenkirchen and Münster at reasonable times. We were staying in Münster with a friend of mine (I’ve now been in Germany for a week, stayed in five different cities and have yet to pay for my accommodations – I rule…) but we did want to check the match site out. Well, we got to Gelsenkirchen and it’s a shithole. There’s nothing there at all. Apparently, it used to be a mining town but the mines have long since shut down. In fact, if it wasn’t for its soccer facilities (which are on par with any facilities in the world), there’d be no reason for Gelsenkirchen to exist at all anymore. But we caught the Holland game in a café, had a few beers and moved on to Münster.

Münster was a different story altogether. It’s a college town but there’s a lot of history there and some really cool sites. We took Steffi and her roommate out to dinner and then hit the sack to prepare for the game.

Monday rolled around and we left again for Gelsenkirchen and the one hour train ride to the city. When we got in, we met up with some acquaintances and headed off to a bar that was a stone’s throw from the train station. Holy shit… the place was swarming with Americans. It was a great atmosphere and we had a great time there. Also, we met and hung out with Sports Illustrated soccer/basketball writer Grant Wahl and he was genuinely super cool. He sat down with us, ate with us and bullshitted with us until he had to leave for the arena. We followed suit shortly afterward. The bus was crowded but uneventful until some asshole Czech fan, drunk as balls, climbed on and started talking shit. Not “hey, we’re going to kick your ass today!” talking shit but rather, “Fuck you, fuck you, Vietnam, Iraq, fuck you…” talking shit. Another American kindly reminded him (too kindly for my tastes – he needed to be reminded with a closed fist shot to his mouth but I digress…) that we also helped to bring down the Soviet Union. The Czech fan had to eat his shit after that and actually climbed out of the bus shortly afterward. Weird.

That was the only even quasi-run in that we had. Everybody else was super cool and the atmosphere in the stadium itself was phenomenal. The US sold out its allotment of tickets so we were loud and very visible. Unfortunately, as we all know, the US did not get the result we wanted. Now we’ve dug ourselves a hole that we are unlikely to climb out of. Shit.

After the game, we headed back to some bars to drink away the disappointment and found a place to chill before grabbing some food and heading back to Hibernia, the bar where everything started. We also had the pleasure of watching some US fans fight each other. It was a completely ridiculous spectacle but strangely entertaining. There were three groups of US fans, on group had dudes that were wearing Beasley jerseys and a second group were giving them shit for it since Beasley played about as well as a one legged palsy afflicted armadillo. In any event, a THIRD group saw this going down and, somehow, took offense. A member of that party called over to a dude in the second group, “Hey faggot in the tank top! Faggot in the tank top!” and it was seriously the least threatening thing I’ve ever heard. But the two groups clashed, slaps and a punch or two were exchanged and that chased away a small group of had come by to… exist, I guess. I would say celebrate but they honestly looked like they were at a funeral. My guess is that, though they won the soccer match, they know that they have to go back to the Czech Republic when it’s all over whereas most American fans get to go back home to the United States. In other words, they may have won the game of soccer but we win in the game of life.

Anyhow, after all the excitement, we headed back to Münster and met back up with Grant Wahl and Steve Davis (from the Dallas Morning News) who were both on the way back to Hamburg. We got back into town at 2 a.m. and it took another hour (and a very confused taxi driver) to get back to Steffi’s place. Again though, while the result may have been crap, we still managed to have a great time. Well, the train journey back to Munich sucked ass but really, who am I to complain?