Football Nomad

The 2011 Women’s World Cup snuck up on me in the best possible way.

It began with a Sunday afternoon spent hanging out in Berlin with my friend Léo. He flicked on the TV, France were playing Nigeria and being both a big football fan and French, he encouraged me to sit down and watch.

France won 1-0 through a beautifully-controlled finish by Marie-Laure Delie. Nigeria looked sharp on the break at times but the French were the deserved winners. Their crossing was dangerous and they had, in Louisa Necib, a player capable of creating havoc on the edge of the area.

In truth, excitement-wise, this was a dull game, but Léo’s Frenchness kept things interesting. As did the attitude of the players on the pitch: there was no diving, no play-acting, no bitching to the referee. In short, none of the things that annoy me about the men’s game.

It might not have been the best game but it felt pure to me: football for joy, not bogged down ludicrous amounts of money and generic playing styles. It felt like a throwback to men’s football in the glory days of the 1950s or 1970s. And I really mean that in a good way.

I’ve seen (and been thoroughly excited by) women’s football before. It’s not new to me. I know about Marta (who doesn’t?). I know about Birgit Prinz and I know that Germany, Norway and the USA are among others who have won tournaments in previous years. I know that Australia lost 3-2 to Brazil in the quarter-finals of the last World Cup and I know that England are supposed have a very decent team.

As do Germany, as I learned (and should have known as their status as holders) in the next game.

I watched the Germans open their tournament with a victory over Canada from a favourite football bar of mine, Bar 11 in the Kreuzberg district of Berlin. Although almost 74,000 crammed into the Olympiastadion a good half-hour train ride away, plenty more Berliners enjoyed the game among family and friends and whilst sipping on a couple of Berliner Pilsner’s Léo and I were hit by no less than three paper aeroplanes.

Germany v Canada was an excellent game. The hosts controlled the game from start to finish, threatening to run away four or five-goal winners, but were almost pegged back late on by a Canadian side lead by their inspirational captain Christine Sinclair.

After breaking her nose and mopping up the blood, she shrugged off physios who wanted to tend to it further. Not happy running around the pitch launching into headers and tackles she then proceeded to score a tremendous free-kick from range, surely the best that will be scored during the tournament, to give Canada a whiff of a chance.

It wasn’t to be though as the Playboy-posing Germans held on. As Laura so kindly pointed out in the comments, none of the current German squad actually posed for Playboy. It was the German U20 team. Apologies for this error.

It was about two-thirds into this game that I made the decision to follow the World Cup very closely over the next three weeks. Even more, I decided I would blog about it regularly, sharing my new discovery in a bid to help spread the word about the women’s game.

I actual feel a lot like I did as a 13-year-old happening upon the 1998 World Cup in France. Everything is new and shiny, expectations are null and void and there is only joy to be had. That is why The WWC Club (Women’s World Cup Club), based on the concept of the much-more-famous AV Club, has been born.

Stray Observations

– Where was the diving? The rolling around? Every player that went down hurt appeared to be genuinely injured. Canada’s Sinclair was the best example of the typical bravery shown, but Nigeria’s Osinachi Ohale deserves credit too.  She went off with what looked like a dislocated shoulder before tearing back onto the pitch to lay two crunching tackles in the very next phase of play. A stark comparison to the theatrics that going every weekend in the Premier League.

– Germany’s Alexandra Popp has a shot on her. A beautiful strike from the corner of the penalty area grazed the top of the crossbar with the goalkeeper well beaten. Great name, too.

– Corners seem to be particularly dangerous at this World Cup. France threatened often through Necib’s back-spinning delivery — she even managed to hit the crossbar direct from one — whilst Germany also looked dangerous. Goalkeepers beware.

– At one point one of the Nigeria players tripped over the ball and landing on her arse. Léo and I wondered, just for a moment, whether the telecast producers would refrain from showing a reply to prevent the women’s game from looking just a bit silly. But then, gloriously, they obliged.

– 73,000+ for Germany’s opening game. Very nice indeed.

Just a quick one to let you all know that as of today, Football Nomad is going on an extended break.

I’ve really pushed things on this blog over the past year, traveling all over the world and sharing as much of it with you as I could. There has been videos, photographs, articles, interviews and recently, a bid to get Like A Local Day off the ground.

But the truth is that in the past couple of months I’ve become a bit burnt out and I am in desperate need of a break.

I figured I’ve only got three or four months to soak up the European summer, to enjoy my time in Berlin and make a decent go of experiencing more of the culture while I’m here. So that is what I’m going to do and as a result, Football Nomad is going to take a bit of a back seat for a while.

The great thing is that living overseas and spending more time on my football projects has opened up some serious doors for me over the past year.

Just over a couple of weeks ago I was commissioned to write a piece on the International Football Film Festival in Berlin for FourFourTwo magazine in Australia, my first proper freelance writing work. There I was, media pass around my neck, pen and notepad in hand, interviewing the Brisbane Roar’s Thomas Broich, the star of the headline documentary of the festival.

It was a scary, wonderful feeling and one I hope to feel again soon.

While I’ve decided to take a break from Football Nomad I can assure you that it will be back at some point. It may take on a different form, depending on what direction I’d like to take it, but it will still remain my spiritual home for writing about football and of course, travel.

In the meantime, you can stay connected with me online via Twitter.

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you, the readers, as well as all the people from the football blogging community who have supported Football Nomad up until this point. That support encouraged me to take the plunge in June last year and chase my dream of writing about football and other topics and collaborating with many others on various creative projects.

So farewell for now, thank-you so much and I’ll speak to you all soon.

Stay in touch with Football Nomad via Twitter or Facebook.

In one of my favourite football blog posts, TwoFootedTackle‘s Jamie Cutteridge asked the question: Is football the new punk?

Jamie suggested that as more money is poured into top-tier football the experience of watching live football has become generic, overpriced and to a certain extent, soulless. In an almost subconscious protest, many people are now turning to the lower leagues because, while the football might not be of the same quality, the experience is more personable, more colourful, more positive.

This is something I can relate to quite personally.

I found the World Cup in South Africa to be a rather sobering experience, with the culture of the game sucked out by FIFA and the almighty dollar. The stadiums might have been full but they weren’t full of the people who give the game the colour and culture that make it such a popular sport. It was overpriced, overblown and quite frankly, a desperately disappointing experience.

Meanwhile, in the interview I conducted with Danny Last from European Football Weekends he admitted that “the bigger the club the more tepid the atmosphere these days”.

Luckily for me I have spent the last seven months in the country, perhaps even the city that celebrates the notion of punk football better than any other: Berlin. And while I’ve seen games involving the big boys Hertha BSC and their much smaller cousin FC Union, there is a much smaller third club that has left a much bigger mark on me.

TeBe fans get into the groove

It’s name is Tennis Borussia Berlin e.V. or ‘TeBe’ for short.

TeBe currently play in the 5th division of German football, known as the Northeastern Oberliga, yet have over 100 years of history. They have won many Championships in many different divisions and even managed two short stints in the Bundesliga in the 1970s.

Going to a TeBe game is a marvelous experience. The crowd is small: barely more than 500 at any game, yet the supporters who show up are passionate and extremely enthusiastic. Most of the supporters group together, decked out in purple and sing well-known chants and songs to cheer their players on. Anti-fascist and anti-homophobia flags are flown proudly, Bratwursts and Currywursts are munched on and win, lose or draw, the team is supported whole-heartedly. It is an experience completely in keeping with their club motto: ‘Fussball, Freunde, Rock’n'Roll’.

The last time I went to see TeBe a supporter and friend of mine, Endi, told me of their severe financial problems (a problem of bad management in the middle of the 90s) and the subsequent ‘We Save TeBe’ campaign that has been running to fix them. Merchandise sales help out, as do donations, but the quirkiest way that the fans support this cause is by throwing their used plastic beer cups into a large pile at the end of the game. In Germany a deposit is paid whenever you get your first beer, so by refusing to reclaim their deposit the supporters are essentially providing a very unique form of donation.

The overwhelming feeling one gets when watching TeBe is one of joy. This club means a lot to those who watch the games, yet their passion is always channeled positively and whether their team plays well or not, they make sure to have a good time. Football is supposed to be fun and they, more than any other club I have personally been involved with, understand that.

Of course, whilst TeBe are a fantastic example of the punk football they are not alone. There are plenty more examples of punk football around Europe and the rest of the world which is why, for this week’s Like A Local Day I am encouraging you to tell your own punk football experiences.

We know all about the Real Madrids and Manchester Uniteds of the world but this week its all about the TeBes. Share with us your stories of lower-league football: the quirks, the perks, the atmosphere and what made it so special.

Win a Pelé Sports tee

Just leave a comment below to share your story and as an added bonus, as always with Like A Local Day, the best entry will win a lovely Pelé Sports t-shirt.

What is Like A Local Day?

Like A Local Day is a weekly feature sponsored by Pelé Sports that encourages football-lovers to share their local knowledge and help spread Futebol Bonito with the Football Nomad community.

It is based on the principle of give and take, that someone living in Tokyo might have information about football travel and culture that someone living in Bratislava might want to know and vice-versa.

It is about opening channels of knowledge between people all over the world, controlled for quality by Football Nomad, to share information to help people experience football travel more authentically and encourage them to do it more often.

Like A Local Day happens every Thursday on Football Nomad. To keep in touch just follow the blog on Twitter or Facebook.

The following article was written by Football Nomad reader Carly Melissa as part of the most recent Like A Local Day, which looked at favourite local football stadiums. Carly wins a rather excellent Pelé Sports t-shirt as a thank-you for such a magnificent response.

As a result of my recent travels to Spain — that’s me in the photo above at the Nou Camp — I’ve decided to extend the most recent Like A Local Day for an another week.

This means you have an extra week to share a story about your local stadium and win the Pelé Sports t-shirt for doing so.

Just click here to go to last week’s article and particpate.

Remember, Like A Local Day is all about give and take, about sharing your local knowledge with others in the Football Nomad community to help them experience football culture. So the more you get involved the more others will too.

Cheers and enjoy yourselves.

Like A Local Day happens every Thursday on Football Nomad. To keep in touch just follow the blog on Twitter or Facebook.