I would fly eight hundred miles
And I would fly eight hundred more
Just to be the man who flew a thousand (okay, sixteen hundred) miles
To watch another 0-0 draw…
Massive apologies to The Proclaimers, but
I’ve had these lines going round in my head all week.
It’s a bit of luck we don’t go to St. Pauli
for the football, eh? This was my second 0-0 on the bounce, the first being the
home game against SV Sandhausen in October – both dreadful games. Fortunately,
like the Sandhausen trip that ended up being a precursor for the Lampedusa
refugee march, the game against Ingolstadt was only one part of a busy weekend.
I was over for the Fanladen launch of Pirates, Punks and Politics and as a
result, had a pretty packed schedule. Even before I’d left Heathrow – by the
power of a St. Pauli hoodie – I’d got chatting to a Celtic/St. Pauli fan called
Scott who was also on his way to the match. In true St. Pauli fashion, on the
U-Bahn into town we discovered we were both trying to text the same person (hello,
Sönke!) about arrangements for later. After dumping my bag at the Fanladen and
a quickly consumed Astra to steady the nerves, I legged it round to the Haupttribüne to meet the guys from St.
Pauli FM. I was pretty sure I was at the right entrance, but after a bit of a
text message mix-up, I decided I wasn’t and started the search for the mythical
northern entrance to the Haupttribüne! This basically involved me doing a lap
of the stadium, realizing pretty quickly that the entrance in the north-east
corner of the ground was for away fans, sprinting round past the bunker,
through the Dom, squeezing through the crowds trying to get into the Südkurve
back to where I’d started. Eventually, I got in and found myself sitting high
up in the press box with a cracking view of the Gegengerade as it began filling
up with people. It’s a pretty inspiring sight, I’ve only ever really seen the
Gegengerade on matchdays from the Südkurve, where it looks pretty impressive,
but from directly opposite it looked incredible. Anyhow, despite being nervous
and slightly sweaty from my warm-up lap of the Millerntor, I bumbled my way
through my radio interview, which included a comedy reading-out of the St.
Pauli team, where I realized two things. First, I can’t pronounce ANYTHING
properly in German (which ironically also means I could do a decent job
commentating on FCSP for BTSport) and, second, that there’s still a fair few of
this new(ish) squad that I don’t really know. Oh, for the days of Tayki, Naki,
Sako & Co. I then got nabbed for an interview with St.Pauli TV, which was
even more nerve-racking as, unlike radio, TV highlights my slightly manic (and
born of nerves) ‘arm waving whilst being interviewed’ technique. Still, at
least, in the space of 45 minutes I’d ruled out future careers in both radio
and television. Finally, then, I was free of media duties – please don’t think
I’m sounding ungrateful, I’m not at all, it made for a really different
pre-match experience, it was just all slightly surreal.
As a result of getting onto
the Südkurve late, I found myself tucked down in the corner by the Gegengerade.
I’d wanted to try and find the guys from Catalunya who were over watching, but
it wasn’t to be. Then, after some great flag-based choreo from the USP, the
game was underway. To say I can’t remember a single incident of note from the
match itself isn’t an exaggeration. Literally nothing exciting happened. Indeed,
the highlight of the second-half was watching Ralph Gunesch warming-up in front
of us for Ingolstadt – further confirmation that I am rooted in the past, or
that I’ve just not bonded with the new St. Pauli team yet. Is it just me, or do
the current team seem a bit devoid of characters?
However, there were two
curios that came about as a result of the game, both not your typical St.
Pauli. First was the appearance of a large Union Jack flag in the middle of the
Gegengerade. It didn’t look like something brought along by chance, as I think
it had ‘FCSP’ stenciled in the middle. Seemed like a strange choice: maybe
ironic, maybe genuine? I’ve not had a chance to check various internet forums
for more information. It just seemed odd. I know the USP, quite rightly
disapprove of national flags on the Südkurve (which fits in nicely with my own
feelings about ‘no nations, no borders’) but it is not unusual to see various
national flags cropping up elsewhere: the Cuban flag, the Irish tricolor or
flags representing the Basque region, or indeed Catalunya, it’s just that I’d
never thought I’d see a Union Jack at the Millerntor. Again, maybe I’m rooted
in the past and a certain historical/political mindset. As the Union Jack
reminds me of growing up in the 1970s and ‘80s England with all its links to
the far-right. Then there’s the flag as the uncomfortable visualization of
patriotism, ‘Great’ Britain, ‘Empire’ and everything that conjures up. And of
course, Morrissey at Finsbury Park… ;) You get the picture: I’m no fan of the
Union Jack – take it down, it clashes with the sunset as Billy Bragg would say.
Second was the treatment of
the referee, Bibiana Steinhaus.
I’d seen her ref a couple of games prior to this one and she’d done a good job.
Today, however, she had an average game (in my opinion, and I’m no referee!) I
don’t think her case was helped by the bity nature of the game and the creeping
frustration of the home crowd, who (despite our shaky home form) expected a
win. As the game wore on, it seemed to become more disrupted by the referee’s
whistle and more often than not those breaks in play were given as free-kicks
to Ingolstadt. Like I said, frustration played a big part in this, both from
the St. Pauli players on the pitch making rash challenges in an increasingly
desperate attempt to break the deadlock and from the fans equally desperate for
three points. At the time, I wondered what sort of criticism Steinhaus was
getting from the stands (again, a lack of German failed to help here.) At
full-time, as Steinhaus and her team made their way to the tunnel there was a crescendo of boos and whistles. I didn’t think too much more
of it, until I got a text from someone watching back in the UK asking if the
team got booed off. Perhaps some of the jeers were directed at the team, but to
me it felt like the loudest criticism was saved for the officials. Much later
that night, in the Jolly Roger, I raised the treatment of the referee in a
discussion, and it seemed my initial suspicions were confirmed. She,
apparently, got a bit of sexist abuse from fans standing on the Gegengerade.
This very un-St. Pauli treatment of
the referee was a real shame and a reality check on how far football (even at
St. Pauli) still has to go to rid the game of sexism. It was disappointing,
although as ever with FCSP fans, it is good to see that so many people were angry
and outraged by the sexist abuse that was directed at Steinhaus.
All that aside, it
was a dull game. I decided that prior to meeting up with everyone at the
Fanladen for the book launch, I’d check into my hotel and have a bit of a nap.
An hour or so later, I was
refreshed by sleep and chocolate and headed down to the Fanladen to meet up with
the guys from Der Übersteiger’s ‘Millernton’ podcast to record a short
interview.
Again, it’s these moments long after the final
whistle that make the trip. After exchanging about a million emails during the
editing process for the book, I finally got to meet Christoph Nagel. It was
great to be able to thank him for all his hard work. Sönke’s help with the
editing was also invaluable although he had taken it on himself to celebrate
with a beer or two, which manifested itself in an uncanny ability to repeatedly
knock bits of artwork of the wall of the Fanladen throughout the book Q&A
session!
The book Q&A, like the ones before it in Leeds
and London, turned out to be an immensely enjoyable affair. Massive thanks to
everyone at the Fanladen for helping it happen, especially Stefan (on bar duty)
and Kolja (selling books!) The evening kicked-off with Sönke reading from the FourFourTwo article from 2005 (not 2006
as I’d misremembered) that got me into St. Pauli in the first place. Sönke had
picked up a copy on a trip to Glasgow, lent it to a friend years ago, but
magically managed to get it back earlier in the day. I then did a short intro
about how the book came about, then it was on to my favourite bit: the
discussion. I wouldn’t really call it a Q&A, as I don’t really have any
actual answers, but it was a brilliant opportunity to share thoughts and ideas
on FC St. Pauli; fan culture; differences between German football and the rest
of Europe; and hopes and fears for the future. The discussion was so intense
that we had to stop for a ‘half-time’ break so people could go to the bar
and/or the toilet! It was a real international gathering with contributions
from fans from as far afield as Catalunya, Netherlands, France, Scotland and
the Canada.
To be honest, after the Q&A, I
was expecting to head back to the hotel, write a piece for Der Übersteiger and
then get an early night but, of course, in true St. Pauli style, there was no
chance of that. Before I knew it, I was sitting in the wonderful Backbord now located on Clemens-Schultz-Straße, drinking beer and talking
football, politics, hedgehogs and eagles (now there’s a book title if ever I
heard one!) The conversation was fun and informed. I found myself sitting round
a table with the guys from the FC St. Pauli Catalunya Supporters
Club, a university lecturer from Brighton, members of Republica Internationale
(a Leeds based socialist football club), Dani Wurbs the CEO of Football
Supporters Europe and a couple of people who had lived the infamous
Hafenstraße squats in the late 1980s. We were later joined by Sönke and
Christoph from the 1910 e.V. Museum project. We sat chatting until about
1.30am, then moved on for a night-cap of Mexicanas and further discussion at
the Jolly Roger.
I got back to my hotel just before 3.00am. So much
for the early night. Yet again, the football itself was a distant memory. The
team, the club, the stadium might be the hook that brings us all together, but St.
Pauli is all about people and I’m
more than happy to travel 800-miles for that.
At the airport, the following morning, I bumped into
Mark from the University of Brighton and spent an enjoyable hour finding out a
bit more about his work on A.S. Livorno. It had been his first experience of
the Millerntor. I think he’ll return.
I’m back in May for the
Sonderzug to Köln. No radio or TV interview and 24-hours without sleep, I can’t
wait.
