Izvor: 11 friends / DPA
In football, it used to be said that the team must “close the match” – when you have an advantage, you play smart, you don’t allow the opponent to come back and calmly bring the job to an end. In recent times, the expression that one should “kill the match” is used more and more frequently, in the sense of removing all uncertainty from it.
In Leverkusen this Saturday, something else was seen: how a game can be “killed” even before the referee’s first whistle, but not with tactics, but with police and security measures.
The big Rhine derby between Bayer Leverkusen and Köln was supposed to be one of the highlights of the round, with the usual heated atmosphere in the stands. Instead, the away sector remained half-empty. The active fan group of Cologne, between 500 and 600 people, decided to leave the stadium and head back home even before the start of the match. The reason: entry controls they claim were excessive and humiliating.
According to Cologne fans, checks were carried out during which people had to strip completely. Such searches, even if they are formally conducted as a “security measure”, are not a matter of taste for the fans, but a line they do not want to cross. The collective decision to boycott the match in such conditions was their answer.
Instead of recognizing the seriousness of the situation, the official response was tepid and bureaucratic. Köln’s press release only stated that “the active fan scene, from their perspective, left because of too intense controls”. As if it is a subjective impression, and not a question of dignity and boundaries in relation to the fans.
They didn’t show much more understanding in Leverkusen either. The chairman of the board of the club, Fernando Carro, stood in front of the cameras and practically assumed the role of the spokesperson of the state institutions. When asked about the controversial measures, he answered with the sentence: “The police should be trusted.” He added that he does not have insight into every detail, but that he assumes that the measures are justified.
Sporting director Simon Rolfes went in another, equally problematic direction. He commented that he was “surprised that their fans showed solidarity with Cologne fans” and that he “wasn’t expecting that”. It’s as if it’s normal for the fan scene to remain silent when other fans go through humiliating treatment – especially when it’s known that they themselves have already been in a similar position.
Because this is not an isolated case. The fans of Leverkusen have been able to say very clearly what they think about the direction in which the “security policy” is going in their club and city. Recently, a large banner hung on their stand that read something like: “Bayer’s security service, gravediggers of fan culture.” The message was clear: the way fans are treated today, especially away fans, is not protecting the culture of cheering, but is slowly burying it.
There are enough examples. Borussia Dortmund fans in Leverkusen are prohibited from bringing large flags on sticks, even though such flags are a basic part of the visual culture in the stands. Werder fans from Bremen, after going through what they called “enhanced controls”, also left Leverkusen before the referee’s first whistle. Fans of Borussia Mönchengladbach were threatened with a stadium ban, the so-called match ban, just because they had several stickers with questionable content.
In that run, what happened against Cologne fits a worrying pattern. Instead of treating fans as people who are part of football culture, very often they are treated as potential threats that should be prevented by all means, even measures that go beyond reasonable limits.
What was different this time was the reaction of the local fans. Despite the fierce rivalry with Cologne, Leverkusen’s active scene decided to side with the visitors. After lowering their flags and banners at the beginning of the match, a large part of them left the BayArena stand, clearly saying that they do not want to create an atmosphere at any cost, while on the other hand, the fans experience what they consider humiliation.
The result: the derby that normally shakes the Rhine has been reduced to a much quieter, “sterilized” version of itself. The game was played, points were shared or awarded, but what makes football more than a game, the voice of the fans, the colors, the flags, the passion, was muted to a level barely recognizable.
This is not a story about one bad intervention, but about the collision of two views on football. On the one hand, there are institutions that almost always define safety through additional prohibitions and controls, often without real awareness of how this affects the fans. On the other side, there are fans who increasingly feel that “order and peace” is slowly suffocating what they are in the stands for in the first place.
In Leverkusen, it was also shown this time that fan culture does not disappear overnight, but is slowly undermined by a series of small decisions. But at the same time, something else was also shown: that fans, when they are ready to draw the line and say “no”, can clearly show what is unacceptable to them with a joint boycott.
The derby may have been “killed” before the start, but that’s why it’s clear how alive the other side of football is – a world where fans are not extras, but people who are ready to sacrifice their own enjoyment of watching the game to defend the dignity of their community.
