the saga continues...
22. the 11th has been a quieter day in frankfurt thus far, although that's not to really say it's quiet. there is no game in the city, nor is the aftermath as significant. of course, the english are still here, many of them returning to the same bars that they'd taken over the night before, bursting into song again whenever they spot kindred fans. which is reasonably often. there are more mexican fans about today, too, but they're more cordial than boisterous so far.
23. later in the day, the mexican fans are doing the driving around and honking thing following their win. there's a more significant delegation of fans from iran here now, and they don't seem to know their side lost, because they're dancing wildly still, having fully taken over and densely packed a side street off of the zeil. their music is pretty good, too. the polizei don't even have anybody watching them, and after all, why not--they probably don't even drink, and they're clearly having a blast anyway. the english, on the other hand, are still there in force, even if nothing compared to last night. they're still encamped in the romer, a painted limousine parked in the middle of the square, and have fully taken over a bar's outside tables on one side of the square. they're playing the same game that some folks were playing in the hauptwache the night before, which is to say, take a ball, and kick it in the air as hard as you can. cheer when someone volleys it, boo when it's missed. windows narrowly miss being broken. a ball got lost in the fountain in the center, which is fenced off; initially, the police seemed disinclined to let them retrieve it, but eventually relented (or, as likely, were too late to stop it), and a man got in there to get it, adding a nice cannonball dive before exiting the fountain. while most of the police had been pretty easygoing before, eventually this ball was confiscated. another was produced within moments, naturally.
24. on a train now to koln, then dusseldorf, then gelsenkirchen for the us-czech republic match (assuming i succeed in retrieving my conditional tickets). met my parents for around 15 minutes at the flughafen. ate breakfast at a mcdonald's in the terminal; outside the seating area was a disused deck with viewing binoculars; clearly a mothballed observation deck. my fond memories of dulles' observation deck as a kid really make me sad that these things have been regulated out of existence. goodness knows there's a spectacular array of aircraft at FRA to watch. my parents were amused by my rather fluid travel schedule, but we agreed to meet in berlin around this time tomorrow. for a good handful of hours, even (sadly, i'm eating a hotel room in berlin tonight, since it doesn't look as if i can get there from gelsenkirchen until morning). they have tickets to a variety of games, too, as do my brother and his fiance. actually, last i heard, they only had tickets to the 3rd-place match, and had high hopes for conditional tickets. hopefully they'll have success with that, too. there's really something about blasting through the european countryside on a high-speed train; it's something that's decidedly non-american, and it's exciting to feel it accelerate to such a speed on the ground. it's not quite the tgv (which is holy-shit fast), but still noticeable. couple that with some good german techno, and now we're talking.
25. it's good to hear american voices on the train; hopefully we make a good showing for us soccer fans. according to my dad, their flight from jfk had the new york fire department's soccer team on it, who were hitting some games, and playing a few friendly matches with local clubs.
26. it was a tough haul from frankfurt to gelsenkirchen. the first part, from frankfurt to koln was fine, but at koln, i made the mistake of getting on the next train to dusseldorf (where i procured a hotel room), which was a regional train which made literally dozens of stops in koln, it's sketchier suburbs, and the german equivalent of newark (by which i mean it was as fragrant as it was scenic). i'm dropping my bags off in dusseldorf, which doesn't seem too interesting (and is also kinda run-down looking). and from here it's hopefully a short haul to gelsenkirchen.
27. it was a short-ish haul to gelsenkirchen. i witnessed a german train be late, though, by thirty minutes, no less, enough to get an entire trainload of us soccer fans to do the run-across-the-platform thing to another train. the first one was filthy anyway; i thought i'd taken a wrong turn and wound up in italy (my dislike of the italian rail system is well-documented). it was good to see so many americans on board, particularly considering this was a pretty faraway place to be staying from the venue. a friendly but slightly crazy-looking german predicted a 2-0 victory for the us team. it was still a fairly long trip, and very hot (a thermometer in gelsenkirchen after the game, quite late in the evening, still read 29 celsius).
28. once the train reached gelsenkirchen, that's where the fun began. as in, multiple entire trains full of people all attempted to pile on the platform to board a single tram car. they refer to it as a u-bahn because it is underground for 3 stops out of 10 or so. it was a long, chaotic wait. which i avoided, and was an early adopter of the bus alternative. which was packed, exceptionally sweaty, and slow, but steady. progress was so slow that many disembarked to walk, realizing too late that it was a 7-km trip to the stadium.
39. the stadium seemed nice enough. it was a chase to find the ticket pick-up. as in, if you get conditional tickets, go to the 'stadium ticket center', and do not settle for the 'ticket service center'. the latter will not help you. in the case of gelsenkirchen, this is like a quarter-mile hike outside the stadium. by this time, myself, a czech, and four scotsmen have made the rounds of the wrong places, and are running like mad to the right place. eventually i get my ticket. section d, row 1, seat 1. hmm... sounds interesting.
40. i get in, 5 minutes late. i knew that the ticket was as good as it sounded when the usher arched his eyebrows at me. i must have been a sight, dripping sweat, unshaven, and entirely out of breath. it's entirely possible i wound up on worldwide tv looking like that, since i was literally right behind the us bench.
41. and in the middle of the biggest czech section, a field of red. they had pretty good chants going, honestly, not that i could understand any of it, but they were clearly organized so that there was something they could all stomp their feet to every verse. they were shaking the place. or at least this half of it. a couple of nice americans i chatted with on the train back to dusseldorf sat on the opposite corner of the place, and said that they couldn't even hear them from there. judging by shirt color and cheering activity (lack thereof, that is), it looked like the place was over half us supporters. impressive, considering that the czechs were a drive or a train trip away, mostly, and not a long plane flight, then a train trip. of course, the fact that you couldn't hear the american fans wasn't entirely their fault.
42. because the us team played mostly badly. for 25-30 minutes after the first czech goal, it was encouraging, 'cause they were really taking it to them, hustling to the ball, winning balls aggressively, and threatening repeatedly. you felt like it was a matter of time before they punched one in, particularly after the shot that struck the post. but it turned out that the czechs would put another one in first, and that pretty much ended the game. after that, the us team couldn't connect cleanly on more than a couple passes in a row, for the most part. there were a couple of chances, even good ones, but you got the sense that those were flukes. by the last ten minutes, their frustration was plainly evident. it was just ugly at that point. the czechs plainly felt aggrieved by the officiating, but while it wasn't perfect (there were a few situations where they were seemed to be allowing the players to make the calls for them, wrong calls), it was reasonably balanced. the field seemed to be an issue, as a number of players were seen losing their footing, or tripping over lines on the field, or something.
43. the seat i had was totally amazing, worth all the trouble to get it and get there, for sure, but as i mentioned, it was more or less in the czech section, and sadly, i did meet the first real obnoxious fan on the whole trip. he took it upon himself to lean over and interpose his upturned thumbs, swirling scarf, and grinning face directly in front of me when the czechs scored. i get it, you're happy. you've every right to be, especially if your team isn't playing like crap. hell, you've every right to be happy i'm unhappy, if that's what does it for you, but when you decide to do either or both of the above in my face, well, then you're just being a dick. in any language.
44. the american fans were pretty frustrated by the game, and pretty quiet, too, on the way back. not that they were terribly loud on the way there, either, really, but it's also not really their way. many chose to walk back most or part of the way, as did i, but i was told later that the wait for the tram wasn't as endless as it seemed (see previous statements). there were pockets of people doing the math, figuring out whether or not to root for ghana to win, or to merely tie the italians, and what had to happen to advance. the figuring wasn't terribly reassuring, to say the least.
45. up early and on the train to berlin. it reeks of cologne (not koln, ha ha, that's awful, i'm sorry.) in here; some gentlemen are actually holding a meeting on the train, various parties of it having gathered between dusseldorf airport and dortmund one at a time. dusseldorf didn't seem to have much to offer, but the folks i talked to on the train suggested that i missed the nice parts (the area where i was seemed to be somewhat of a red-light district, or at least had a lot of porn shops). maybe next time.
46. writing from zurich airport somewhat frantically, damn stingy wireless access.