World Cup Part II, Stuttgart, Germany

(June 9-13) It was hell leaving the game at Gelsenkirchen. Despite German´s reputation for order the tram station was chaos. Like cattle we followed the herd to a tram stop and saw the masses swarming the platforms. Trams that passed by were already full. Buses that stopped nearby were mobbed so Matt and I walked to the stop we were originally let off for the game. It required us to cross a very busy street with speeding cars, cross over a train track and even scale a fence. Our situation was no brighter once we got to that tram stop. There appeared to be more people waiting for a tram than physical space allowed. As soon as a tram approached and we were on a walkway above Matt and I made a mad dash for an open door. We´ve quickly learned that lines do not exist here. We´ve been curtious in the past but our weary legs and bodies needed to get home and we still had a half our train ride to consider.

At the very last car we managed to squeeze in like sardines. Our bodies pressed up against other sweating fans. There was no A/C and the windows were only open enough to give you a tease of air and no more. We were cruising along steadily, making small talk with other fans when the train abruptly stopped. Not understanding German we had no idea why it was we stopped or when it was we would continue on our path to the train station. We stood on that train staring at each others nostrils for 20 minutes. I tried not to think about being hot, tired, and about to faint from the clastrophobia of so many bodies in so little space. Finally someone released the emergency switch and we were freed into the fresh air. Not knowing the way to the train station we power walked with others hoping we´d find it one way or another. We walked for another 20 minutes and finally sank onto our seats on the train.

The next morning we took a very crowded train to Stuttgart for our second match game that we had tickets for on June 13. We stayed at a clean and very modern hostel a few minutes walk from the city center of Stuttgart. We played the parts of June and Ward Cleaver in our dueling twin beds but at least we had our own room complete with a 5" TV to watch a game or two in privacy. The next few days in Stuttgart were spent killing time walking around the city or large central park until games kicked off at three in the afternoon. Then we´d either watch a game at the Stuttgart Fan Fest with beer and sausages, at a beer garden with 1 liter steins of beer, or in our hostel room with cans of beer. We were in Germany so we felt we had to eat as much sausage as we could muster. I tried little fat brotwursts with small weany buns, 1/2 meter long frankfurts with slightly longer buns and all sizes in between.

The weather in Stuttgart had been our most splendid. Clear, sunny and hot with a cooling breeze in the shade. Unfortunately Matt´s allergies were on the attack and he resorted to walking around town with a bandana wrapped like a bandit below his eyes. People stared, I laughed and took his picture. One day as we killed time before one of the matches we walked high above one of the neighborhoods in Stuttgart. We could see the sweeping views of the city and surrounding area. We could even see the soccer stadium in the distance. Then we heard music floating through the air. We couldn´t tell where the sweet melodies were coming from and then we figured that the stadium was rehearsing for the France vs. Switzerland´s opening ceremonies.

Getting to the game at the Stuttgart Stadium took us about 10 minutes on a tram. Our seats were right behind the goal about 30 rows up. The stadium wasn´t quite as big as Gelsenkirchen´s so fortunately for us we were considerably closer to the field. We were in the throngs of Swiss fans wearing fire engine red. Two of the best players in the world play for France, Henri and Zidane, and Matt and I were gitty to see them play. The Swiss fans outnumbered the French fans and were nuts. They cheered and sang and we were forced to stand the entire game. Despite large cow bells and trumpets the game was scoreless. The Swiss kept their neutrality with France. Lackluster as the score may have been it was still remarkable to be apart of it.