In September 2012, I visited Berlin and Amsterdam with my friend Jeff and despite going to both Berlin’s Olympiastadion (for an early morning look around) and the Amsterdam Arena (to find the museum had been moved elsewhere), the closest we got to witnessing any football was watching FC Köln and St. Pauli contest a goalless draw on a tiny screen in a bar in ‘hip’ Prenzlauer Berg (the highlight of which being one of the patron’s flat cap/circus strongman moustache/bow tie combination). We vowed to return to see a match. After several drunken conversations in Manchester boozers, a plan was hatched for the following season: a game at the Olympiastadion and a St. Pauli home match in the same weekend. We didn’t have to wait long, on the second weekend of September 2013, Hertha Berlin were due to play host to VfB Stuttgart on the Friday evening and St. Pauli were at home to FSV Frankfurt the following afternoon. So, almost a year to the day of our previous visit, four of us flew out to Berlin.
Four of us arrive at Schönefeld airport on the Friday morning: me (an Everton fan), Jeff (Newcastle Utd), Ian (Liverpool) and John (Man Utd). Unable to check into our hotel until 3 o’ clock and with the best part of five hours on our hands, we take a detour on our way into the city centre and head for Köpenick. I’d read about FC Union Berlin’s Stadion An Der Alten Försterei (Stadium by the old forester’s house) and how part of the redevelopment work was carried out by it’s own supporters so was keen to see what fan power can achieve. Alighting at the S-bahn station, we take the path by the river Wuhle and eventually come out at the front of the stadium.
The ticket office is unlike any I’ve seen before (is it the old forester’s house?) and as we walk towards the main entrance we spot an open gate. Deciding to try our luck we wander inside and take a seat on the haupttribüne. Despite the recently built main stand, it’s a very traditional stadium with three sides of terracing. It must be a special feeling for the fans to come here and know how much of an important role they’ve played in the continued existence of their club. Adding the stadium to our list of venues for future games, we head on into the city taking another detour, this time to the Stasi Museum, which although interesting (and rather frightening in the lengths the regime would go to) is a bit of a struggle if you don’t speak German.
After we check into the hotel, we get a beer locally and then the U-bahn to the Olympiastadion. The coliseum style stadium is a fantastic piece of architecture, but it’s a shame about the presence of the running track. We’re sat just inside the half way line as we were unable to get standing tickets. Unsurprisingly really, as €15 to watch a top flight game is too good a deal to miss. So we spend €60 knowing that the St. Pauli tickets tomorrow are only €14. Despite the Ultras in the Ostkurve being seemingly miles away, they make a good deal of noise and the stadium carries the sound pretty well. The game itself isn’t great. Hertha have all the possession, but can’t create any real chances. Then just after half time, Stuttgart score and for the rest of the game Berlin lay siege to the opposition’s goal. In the end Stuttgart hold on and win. I’m glad I got to experience a game in this beautiful stadium, but I’m also glad the team I support, Everton, play at Goodison Park. Give me a ground with the crowd a few steps from the pitch any day. On the U-bahn ride back into central Berlin, the defeat has done nothing to quieten the Hertha fans and they sing all the way back into the city, even singing “auf wiedersehen” at every stop to the people getting off. Back at the hotel we all have an early night ready for the next part of our adventure, St. Pauli at the Millerntor Stadion!
Up bright and early the next morning, we walk the short distance to the Hauptbahnhof. Of the two games, our trip to Hamburg to watch St. Pauli is the one we’re all excited about. At the station we grab some breakfast and head down to the lowest level of the cavernous hbf for our train. The two hour journey gives me time to finish Red or Dead, David Peace’s book about Bill Shankly. I’ve read most of his other novels and loved them, especially The Damned Utd: an account of Brian Clough’s 44 days in charge of Leeds Utd in the 1970s. This, however, is written in a completely different style. It takes the repetitive nature of Tokyo Year Zero up to a whole new level and can be a very draining read. I can’t help but think of it as a bit of a blemish on Peace’s otherwise impeccable output. Bill Shankly’s oven, on the other hand, must have been spotless (if you’ve read the book you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about).
Arriving in Hamburg, we find the U-bahn and it’s straight to St. Pauli. The stadium is already quite busy with fans gathering and beer sellers with trolleys full of Astra lager, but first we have to pick up the tickets. Standing in the queue at the ticket office, the people in front of me all seem to be going away empty-handed, but when it’s my turn I am given a pristine white envelope containing four tickets for the Gegengerade. I return to my friends like a conquering hero and we go in search of a celebratory drink and a look round the area in search of anything Beatles related. Sadly the museum is now closed, but we do find Beatles Platz and it’s metal Fab Four.
Time to head to the Millerntor! We arrive early or so we thought. The Gegengerade is already nearly full, so we have to squeeze in where we can. Ian and Jeff find a spot down by the front with John tucked in just behind, but I want to get a good view of the Ultras so I disappear into the crowd with a vow to meet my friends in the bar down the road after the game. I climb to the top of the terrace and find an ideal vantage point to watch the game and the Südkurve. AC/DC’s Hell’s Bells starts and the teams emerge from the tunnel, cue a shower of cut up paper raining down from the seats above. With the fans in good voice, the game kicks off and having just finished picking paper out of my beer, John Verhoek gives St. Pauli the lead and my cup is filled again, but I don’t care. It’s a great start, especially after the disappointment of the previous night’s game. The atmosphere is amazing, the crowd sing throughout, even doing a call and response of ‘Sankt Pau-li!’ to the various stands. The home side are denied a second goal because of offside, but in the second half they make it two in front of the Ultras and the crowd go wild. FSV pull one back and the game starts to get a bit heated with yellow cards and a red, but St. Pauli hang on and win.
With the game over, I head to the club shop and buy a retro shirt before meeting up with my friends. I see Jeff outside and we head to the bar and spy John. Then Ian arrives and shows us the shirt he’s bought, I am instantly jealous. Rather than go to the official shop, Ian wisely went to the Fanladen instead. As soon as I see it, I recognise the four bars of the Black Flag (an American hardcore band) insignia and the font used on their album covers, but with Sankt Pauli written on it and using the club colours. It’s an inspired design and rather than go and buy one myself, I set about haggling with Ian to buy his. After a U-bahn ride back to central Hamburg, another bar and a train journey back to Berlin, my enthusiasm for the shirt finally wanes when Ian spills kebab sauce down it.
Flying back into Manchester the next evening, I still haven’t managed to part Ian and the now mythical shirt. There’s only one thing for it, I’m going to have to go back to St. Pauli!
Adventures in Bundesliga 