The FC Bayern only shares, but is no longer involved: at most more money. And President Uli Hoeneß is increasingly behaving like the sheikh of sixty.
When I grew up in the seventies, one was for Bavaria or for Gladbach. With me it became Bavaria. Because of Maier, Breitner, Beckenbauer, Müller, Hoeneß. A cooking magazine thought 1974 to the World Cup a "bomber steak" from: rump steak with a hot pepper on it. Great. The Champions League final in 1999, against Manchester United, we looked at friends. I brought two bottles of Taittinger to celebrate the victory. Afterwards, I was the only one who did not even take the glass. (If you do not care about soccer, unfortunately it's bad luck, but I can not explain it, it hurts.) In 2016, I was in favor of Uli Hoeneß becoming president again; he got my hand signal in the general meeting. Last year, I flew to Madrid for the quarter-finals.
And now I do not care about Bayern.
Not because of Kovac. Not because Rödinghausen or Freiburg. But because of Feltham and Harlaching.
Feltham is the district in London where a company called Dazn is based; they are spoken differently than they are written. If you want to see FC Bayern (and the other German participants) in the Champions League this season, you will no longer get the games at ZDF, but only at Sky or at Dazn – ie only at stations for which you pay extra got to. What do all these Bayerns actually think, how much money should be redistributed to them? Already they had trouble not to drown in their account.
Now they have forgotten why they have come to all those millions: because their event has been going on for decades in the widest possible public. The 90 minutes are always just the smaller part of a football game. The bigger one is talking, ranting, exciting, cheering all week long; the certainty that one would also have the topic with the Bayern haters in the office next door the next morning. Somehow, he was finally caught and got stuck in the game against Arsenal, on ZDF. Now Bayern have plucked themselves into the niche of pay-TV, in the expectation that their product is so indestructible that there is still much more money to get there. How was the difference between a man with seven children and a man with seven million euros? The one with the seven million wants more. From me: not.
Hoeness with his tax history was somehow touching; he was sent to jail (had to be so) for money, which he had ultimately only gambled. Rummenigge, with its watchfulness, was already borderline; the man also lived in front of Dazn in a pay grade that should have allowed him to legally acquire watches. But this version of a press conference in Harlaching the other day? When they both moved with the dignity of man, so FC Bayern players? This has always been a clear sign of the new rich: that they aspire to a milieu that was previously closed to them; that they have read something for it, but use the new expressions reliably whenever they are guaranteed not fit.
One does not demand that his club always plays great and always wins. If Dortmund this time first and Bayern exceptionally should end up behind Dusseldorf: okay.
But you do not want to be ashamed of his club. One does not want that Hoeneß, who has hosted refugees and aired an image film of the fairy lights in the stadium, is now performing like the sheikh of sixty. You do not want either, so I do not, that the club is seriously issuing a press release to say that a player's wife has apologized to the coach for their instakram. What kind of club leadership is it that always deals but can not take anything; except money? If she does not want to have the spectacle and fuss anymore: please, synchronized swimming is also a nice sport.
So what to do? One can not change the club therefore; Therefore, one can not wish to be born a supporter of that Munich club whose happiest year was undoubtedly that of 1859. I'm afraid I'll be back. But I do not know when.