Parental Advisory: This text doesn´t include swearing but “Villingen-Schwenningen” is mentioned five times!
Why didn´t you tell me that Patvo lives in Finland! I also didn´t know that Finland is located 450 km south from Nordrhein-Westfalen! Because that´s just how it looked like there. A street full of grey apartment buildings and tons of snow everywhere. And of course, biggest local sport: ice hockey. Ladies and gentlemen - Villingen-Schwenningen, the proud home of Schwenninger Wild Wings and Fürstenberg Pils!
There we were, however; the older of the Schlüter twins, Tomek, Gerd, of course our master of ceremony Patrick and I. Well, what can four men and one Finn do on a Saturday afternoon in Schwarzwald, 27 hours before the Stuttgart-BVB match? Perhaps some beer? A little bit of Bundesliga football maybe? Yes please, both of them! And these simple basic needs can be found even if the name of the place is Villingen-Schwenningen.
So, the next phase was, after a nutritious hamburger meal of course, a local Irish pub that I´m going to call The Irish pub from now on. I just can´t remember its real name, you know, but who cares anyway. Germans took a beer but I ordered a cup of coffee. Thank god, Henning wasn´t there, he wouldn´t have liked my behaviour! The Premier´s conference program was just as usual: “TOOOR in Berlin!” - “TOOOOOOR in Bochum!” - “FÜNF TOOOOOOOOOORE in somewhere!” A mess. But still a mess with a happy end: Schalke, Neverkusen and Bremen - zero points.
It was obvious from the beginning that I would be far from the medals in that drinking competition but after tasting a bottle of Fürstenberg Pils, I was ready to give up. I missed my Küppers cans on my balcony and those golden times when I had more than 100 euros left over my stipendium. Student budgets are for real students only, not for football fans on an away trip.
Chinese food was next to come. There is nothing too interesting to tell about eating Chinese so I´ll shut my face. Maybe I´ll mention the Taiwanese beer, Shinga, before it. Shinga didn´t taste any Taiwanese to me. And Gerd´s neck stretching with an enormous sound effects. Oh man, that was something that I wouldn´t let my kids to listen! And one more thing still, one of the highlights of the whole trip actually, the great snowball fight! As a snow professional I can tell you that throwing a snowball to someones head is the best thing to do at the wintertime with having your pants on! If you haven´t tried it go to Villingen-Schwenningen as fast as you can and try it out. Just one rule: peeing on the ball is strictly prohibited. Well, sometimes that´s fun too, but still...
So, where was I. Oh yes, still in the stroking heart of Baden-Würtemberg and having a snowball on my hand. I´ll throw it away. Harry caused some damages to Patvo´s ear but nothing serious.
Some cocktail bar, also nameless for me, was our next goal after coming back from China. First of all, I bitterly noticed that Bacardi Breezer is not a cocktail. Others got a nice drink but poor Finn got only a factory made bottle of red, tasteless alcohol. However, my disappointment disappeared like a fart in Sahara (old and good Finnish saying!) because all of a sudden I saw an angel. That´s right, the second beautiful girl in the world in Villingen-Schwenningen! I wasn´t still as lucky as Gerd was. I saw an angel but he got sex on the beach. Lucky bastard.
What goes around comes around. Back to the Irish pub. BVB-fans were so highly ranked there that this time we got an own corner and even an own waiter, James. In fact, he wasn´t too good waiter, he seemed to concentrate on holding our clothes and posing in photos most of the time. Neither Harry nor Tomek had troubles with elegant posing as you´ve already seen. There wasn´t still lack of booze despite the Jameses inflexible service skills. In my mind I cursed the student budgets to the lowest level of hell but it was still fun. Gerd seemed to feel so empty after the sex on the beach that he said no thanks quite soon. Others had troubles with remembering the word no. At the time when we climbed to a taxi Tomek seemed to be most wasted. So, congratulations Tomek!
I wasn´t man enough to stay up from the dusk till dawn. Some were. I´m talking about the movie now. A serious snoring alert was given and I can´t take it even after the tens of nights in youth hostels so I had to back off. I found a nice place on the floor right in front of Patrick´s front door. I had a perfect, triangle shaped and stone hard pillow, the wind coming under the door felt so refreshing and the cold concrete floor is actually really soft and warm to sleep. Only problem was a lack of anesthetics in my vains, I guess.
Glorious morning. Everybody seemed to be still there and quite ok. Patvo called to Henning, who sounded somehow disappointed when he heard that. There was still plenty of time before the match and no need to hurry with the brunch a´la Patvo (thanks for that, by the way!). After that and hours of TV-conversations about Toppmöller´s dismissal and Matthäuses mental problems it was time to put some black and yellow on and say goodbye to Villingen-Schwenningen. And open a DAB.
“A trip to Stuttgart” actually included only five hours there. Two hours in traffic lights, two on the stadium and rest of the time in a pub nearby it. Who wants to see some Stuttgart anyway! Seeing a bottle of Stuttgarter Pils should be enough (at least after having nightmares about bottles of Fürstenberg, brrrrrrr.). That´s the way it goes anyway: a beer, a bratwurst, second beer, couple of biers, one more, please and then: the match.
That´s right, I´ve been told that some football match was played on that stadium on that very day. It´s weird because I could see only five minutes of playing football by Dortmund. That happened in the beginning of the second half. One attempt on goal during the first 45 minutes and only four totally. Stuttgart was slightly better but only enough to deserve their lucky goal. Quite a frustrating match. If you don´t believe me go ask Amoroso. An atmosphere on the terrace was still better than on the pitch. The problem was that in Stuttgart this atmosphere is located more than fifty meters away from the goal, far beyond the running tracks.
Only the last stage left, coming home. 400 kilometers of black asphalt, Gerd´s Ruff Rollercoaster Ride ( = GRRR, which was as scary as it sounds! Thanks for a ride still.), three more cans of beer, enjoying the silence and then, after the midnight, Colonia Fantastica. The car was almost out of fuel by the time when I got off. Hopefully others survived without pushing it.
Dortmund lost, I spent all my money and a headache was rising. Still, I would have done it again without a second thought. Thanks Harry, Patvo, Tomek and Gerd. One Pils for you!
Geschrieben von Markku Korhonen (FIN)