There were times when many people would have liked to swap lives with Max Eberl. He was on the sunny side of football, he was successful and someone to cuddle with. But that’s over. When it comes to Eberl today, many people spontaneously think of rate uncle Robert Lembke, who in “What am I?” always greeted his studio guests with the question: “Which pig would you like?”
Eberl is turned into a pig.
He’s not worth five marks in the lucky pig anymore since RB Leipzig has completely given him a blow in the neck. Eberl was the sports director at the Saxons, but last Friday they released him, or to be more precise: they fired him, kicked him out, dumped him. And if he had tried to attend the big game against FC Bayern on Saturday evening, he would have been removed from the Red Bull Arena by strong figures, if necessary at gunpoint.
“It couldn’t go on like this,” Leipzig’s supervisory board chairman Oliver Mintzlaff told all the microphones with piping hot air, “there was a lack of commitment, for the club and for the city.” In short: zero commitment, no identification with anything. Or to put it more casually: This Bavarian didn’t want to get involved with the Saxons, he preferred to be with his girlfriend in Munich. If you read a little between the lines of the Leipzig allegations, Eberl undoubtedly met Uli Hoeneß incognito at the Oktoberfest, and the two have already talked about how they said (“Mir san mir, stronger than the bull “) together we’ll give the Leipzig oxen hell in the foreseeable future.
Leipzig puts Eberl on trial, the tone of voice suggests a perfect rift, and if the fired man responded with the same sharpness, we would have something like chaos like in the Hollywood thriller “War of the Roses” – where Michael Douglas is driven into a rage by Kathleen Turner until he climbs onto the kitchen table, rips his pants open and pees all over the fish.
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But Eberl remains silent, for two good reasons: firstly, if a contract like this falls through, a lot of money is at stake – and secondly, among those who know him closely, he is considered a decent person who tends to be peaceful. The older people here who are somewhat interested in football know Eberl. As a disciplined and strong-running young Max, he played for FC Bayern and in all German youth national teams. And from 1999 at Borussia Mönchengladbach. In 2008 he became the sports director there and once again proved to be a stroke of luck, because he repeatedly turned into very good teams from relatively little money – and for almost a quarter of a century he was “the faithful Max” at Bökelberg.
“Hornoxen,” Eberl once fumed
“Uns Uwe” comes to mind at this point, previously in Hamburg. Admittedly, Uwe Seeler was a more successful footballer, but the rest was similar. Uwe rolled up his sleeves, spit on his hands, clenched his hands into fists and shouted across the pitch: “Nobody lets their ears down!” He used to tear everything for HSV, even his Achilles tendon. And Uwe was so popular that he never seriously thought about leaving; he stayed in Hamburg all his life for a warm meal with bacon (“You should have known my mother’s bean soup”).
What he lost in money he made up for as an Adidas general agent or with a TV commercial in the 1970s, when he rubbed himself with aftershave and whistled the tune from “We go to the mountains in the early dew.” So Uwe became an honorary citizen of Hamburg, honorary police commissioner, honorary captain of shipping and honorary lock keeper – and his right foot stands cast in bronze for all eternity as a gigantic memorial in front of the HSV stadium.
The monument to Uwe Seeler at the HSV Volksparkstadion: the bronze base weighs 2.5 tons, is 5.15 meters wide and 3.50 meters high
Quelle: picture alliance/dpa/Daniel Reinhardt
Max Eberl, at the latest as manager, would also have been considered for such a footing on Gladbach’s Bökelberg, perhaps even in silver. But times have changed and he has bitterly felt the disgrace of late birth. For example, your old earnings are no longer worth anything when you go to the front for decency.
When a horde of Gladbach fans in the stadium unfurled a “son of a bitch” banner with the head of Hoffenheim patron Dietmar Hopp stuck in a crosshairs, Eberl fumed: “Hornox!” How, he asked in disbelief, do you explain to people with honor that respect and? There is tolerance, that character assassination is not a human right covered by the freedom of fools and that such a poster is a call to violence and a disgusting grab into the toilet bowl of human interaction? “These people are cowards,” groaned Eberl, “they hide under the flag, put on masks and disappear under the protection of the masses.”
When Eberl surrendered in tears
From then on the oxen took him by the horns. Two years ago, during the sporting crisis, he completely capitulated at a press conference, in tears, which immediately led to three inevitable questions: a) Did he chop onions beforehand, b) “Gone with the Wind” with Vivian Leigh and Clark Gable or is it c) really making him cry? The correct answer would have been c), but the cynics in the anti-social media and the crisis-damaged frustrated people in the cheap seats of the stadium disqualified him as a tearful hypocrite and master of self-promotion when he said: “I’m exhausted. I am tired. I do not have any strength any more. I need to get out.”
Eberl-Aus near Gladbach for health reasons
Sports director Max Eberl is leaving Borussia Mönchengladbach after more than two decades at the club he loves. Eberl announces the decision in tears – and explains his very personal reasons.
Eberl was out. He had lost his Borussia, his loyalty, his dream, his club. He then went to the people of Leipzig, to the capitalists, and Ralf Rangnick once experienced what that meant bitterly, through shabby banners on the stadium balustrade: “Ralf, we are eagerly waiting for your next burnout.” Also at They waited eagerly for Eberl, and the wait for his failure was quickly worth it.
Max Eberl, who was a straightforward, valuable, decent and loyal Gladbacher for a quarter of a century, now stands in the eye of the shitstorm like a soulless fellow. All that’s left now, his enemies hope, is for this heartless legionnaire to end up where he comes from: at FC Bayern. But either way, one thing is already certain: even for someone like Eberl, there is little chance of keeping his head and saving his reputation amid the growing madness of anti-social media and the football circus of millions.
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And Eberl was even lucky, because he was amazingly successful in his short time in Leipzig. Without taking into account his lack of commitment, without commitment to the club and the city, without dedication and passion, he has absorbed several serious departures, and the team is now playing so well that the chairman of the supervisory board, Mintzlaff, has to garnish Eberl’s expulsion with the sentence: “Max has with his Team did a great job.”
Max Eberl should view this praise as a monument, cast it in bronze and be happy: the pigeons don’t shit on it.
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Neck and back pain
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