Christian Beck from the BFC is no longer quite as powerful.
Photo: imago/Christoph Worsch
An icy east wind sifted through my hair in Hohenschönhausen when I was strolling in the sports park on Sunday for the BFC Dynamo game against Lok Leipzig. For visitors of higher-class games, this kind of visit to the stadium has long been passé, all the while all sorts of gates, barriers and grumpy-looking security personnel prevent them from foraying into the stadium.
Even if the culture of the game is different, this lack of professional football staff is clearly offset by the knowledge gained from strolling. Especially since I’ve been able to experience so many great football games live in the stadium in my life that it’s always possible for me to teleport a carpet of brilliant game scenes in front of my eyes during a game that’s particularly difficult to watch. Yes, you’re justifiably amazed – and it’s not the only miracle I’m capable of. But let’s leave that for today, the true magician of words is careful with his gifts.
So BFC against Lok. Until 1989 a big number in the east, today only for cunning connoisseurs and adventurous travel friends. Both teams didn’t give the impression that they wanted to play a role in the fight for the regional league crown. The last performance was missing, although more than 2000 paying spectators, including some people from beautiful Leipzig, did not lack singing power. A number of grandstand nightingales from Berlin shot the bird off the hook and, to the great amusement of all, mocked the unloved Cottbus coach. “Referee, you Wollitz”, “Piplica, you Wollitz”, “Saxony, you Wollitze” sounded through the round.
As already mentioned, football was also played. The gracefully aged ball king Christian Beck was allowed to play again from the beginning in the ranks of the BFC. Unfortunately, the old Beckian force has left him. Nevertheless, of course I like to see him tripping across the field, especially since, unlike many older footballers, he has remained an extremely friendly person. Whether we will still see him play football next year will probably be decided in Magdeburg. He is a living legend there, and it is said that a novel is even to be dedicated to him. Maybe he can play for another year in the second team of the FCM? If not, he can devote himself to his family, the weeds in the garden and the putative entry into literary history.
I can still enjoy a whopping twelve matchdays in the Regionalliga Nordost. At least six teams are still involved in the title race, isn’t that pretty? Even if the Thuringian competitor from Vieselbach, who I don’t love (which decent Thuringian doesn’t avoid them, these dirty shores?) is currently up to mischief in first place, it should be easy for the glorious team from Jena next Saturday, the upstarts from there expel? A victory against the derby enemy lets the blind see again and the lame walk again, says the legend about the game of games.
I could report on many heroic deeds of the good Jenenser, and I firmly believe that the evil RWE, accompanied by the orcs, will start the journey home to Mordor in penitent’s robes on Saturday at 7:03 p.m. Little girls will pave their Canossa way with thorns, the sky will open its manure sluices for them, while in paradise I will dance around our blue and white campfires and feed fat pig with red and white sauce.
