Lübeck celebrates – descent from Holstein Kiel: Holzbein away

Life as a football fan is great: everything uncivilized, warlike, aggressive can be stuffed into this secondary existence, then the actually dear soul has a few days of rest. You can pursue your bread again without shouting on the editorial corridor without dreaming of fermented feuilletonists or setting things on the next cash register snake. Other people need religions or nations to unleash their hatred. I have football instead of a faith, and my nation is the beautiful Lübeck, which has mastered the Baltic Sea area for centuries as the head of the Hanseatic League and has become quite propered, so that even sharpest theater critics come back from there and praise the beauty of the city.

The only shadow that lies above the pearl of the Baltic Sea is the never wounding shadow: that after the war the Allies fell on the misleading idea of ​​calling a town north of Preet to the capital of the new state of Schleswig-Holstein, a terrible shame, a Danish fishing village that was re-jazzed by Kaiser Wilhelm II to the base of his war Navy, similar to Adolf Hitler the city of Wolfsburg founded for the car.

This pile of garbage is now the counter -design to my graceful, historically so rich hometown; I myself know Lübeck, who have to go there regularly for business reasons, north of Preetz, and who do not take the name of the village in my mouth, but always say: “Yesterday I was back in Kackstadt.” Well, you could largely ignore the sewer on the fjoice as Lübeck, if it weren’t for football! For many decades, he has been forcing us to compare our completely wonderful VfB Lübeck, the pride of the north, to compare with the “storks” from Kackstadt, which for unknown reasons have recently made it up to the Bundesliga, only to embarrass themselves there except for the bones that are muffling according to the gammle.

Oh how wonderful that there is football! And that you have this certain toxicity in yourself, this negativity, which can turn something sad like a descent after sporting minority into a triumph, a bliss! When the team from Kackstadt recently relegated, the Prime Minister Daniel Günther (CDU) residing there trapped truthfully: FC Kriegsmarine had sparked a “football passion” in the state of Schleswig-Holstein (with which I grew up in Lübeck 50 years ago when they still played field handball in the so-called state) Country chief, did not block himself, to roar in Facebook: “No other club, only Holstein!”

On the other hand, I did what I never do, bought me a cigar really well. Get a piccolo (Rotkäppchen rosé). Swelled of pride. And celebrated in the park. Oh, wonderful minutes! Quel triomph! As the Frenchman may say, and of course with him the feature tonist, who is as well as rare and who can be well thought out here and well thought out: Scheiß Holstein Kiel!