Back to Germany to watch a Bundesliga match. Airplane low cost towards the now close to closing Hahn airport, time to pick up a rental car and go straight to Mainz, or Mainz as we remember it for the famous “Diet” of the Frederick era. The match is the one between FSV Mainz 05 and Borussia Mönchengladbach, a mid-table match, with little hope for both contenders to reach the area Europa League but potentially with several interesting points from an ultras point of view.
A quick tour of the beautiful and cold city where we can’t indulge ourselves too touristically speaking, taking refuge in a typical local brewery to find shelter from the rigors of the weather. The afternoon runs pleasant between measure blonde and typical local sausages while, among the patrons of the various pubs visited, we also find many Juventus and green fans as guests.
We immediately sense that the climate is relaxed, we all drink together, between visiting and local fans and we soon join in, exchanging a few chats with those present. We are amazed at the completely different way of understanding the movements of away fans. “Everyone here arrived by train” they tell us (about 350 km divide the cities), and many have the “away card” a real consideration for the season ticket to follow the away team.
We head together with many local red and white fans towards the beautiful Mewa Arena, just outside the city but incredibly served by public transport. Even useless to open up to mortifying comparisons with what happens to us.
Arrived comfortably at a hundred meters from the plant, we identify our sector. This time we have chosen what we would define as a “distinct sector” precisely to better enjoy the cheering show (we are here for this), also by virtue of the absolutely popular price even for this more “privileged” sector: 28 euros, a figure which (ignoring the different purchasing power between Germans and Italians) on this other side of the Alps, in the top flight, many times it’s not even enough for a seat in the corner.
Outside the plant, the inevitable kiosks with all sorts of basic and secondary necessities and fanzone used to entertain the fans in the pre-match. Nope, no buffer zone, none betafence, no cage turnstile ready to swallow us up. A simple check with the steward, scanned the ticket and entered directly into the sector.
The atmosphere under the bleachers is as we imagined it, the smell of frankfurters is everywhere and we notice people of all ages moving around peacefully without restrictions, lots of murals.
We take our seats and it is immediately evident that the seats remain tightly closed, everyone watches the match strictly standing up.
The home curve, compacts in the upper part of the steps (a pity in my opinion) and performs a beautiful scarf at the entrance to the field to the tune of “You’ll never walk alone”.
Opposite, there are about 3,500 guests, who remain in absolute silence for the first quarter of an hour with no banner displayed, even if we are unable to guess the reason for this form of protest.
After 15 minutes, the banner is displayed ULTRAS and torches are lit, the singing contribution is good and the waving of flags with the social colors is very beautiful.
The home curve is produced in choirs and clapping, I notice several banners in Italian “Curva Paradiso”, “Against Nazism”, even a “Gruppo ubriaco” a sign that here too the influence of the Italian curves, and of the Italians themselves ( many in the city), has left its mark.
Well-paced choruses punctuated by a drum, which, however, hardly involve the entire staircase.
At the beginning of the second half, the guests give life to a torch, one of those that we can only dream of now. Dozens of torches therefore animate the sector and the match is also suspended for a few minutes.
The result is all the prerogative of the red and whites of the house, a peremptory four to zero with few appeals.
We leave as we arrived, without any problems and in complete comfort, together with the other 33,000 spectators who attended the match. Logistical criticality of transport or traffic flow, zero.
A good match, with two fans dragged by the growth that is affecting the entire Teutonic ultras movement.
As on other occasions of “ultra tourism” abroad, we always go home with a bitter taste in the mouth comparing how in Italy the most tortuous path is always chosen to manage equal events, and how this is inevitably leading the decline of the ultras movement and with it the disaffection towards football in general. A deadly mix of disservices, underserved stadiums, difficult accesses, high prices and repression that is extinguishing any possibility of recovery. The violence of the supporters is the perfect excuse, managerial incapacity can only hide behind stale alibis.
MS
