‘This is one fabulous party’: Germany fans slowly catching Euro 2024 fever
German supporters gather in Berlin to watch the Euro 2024 match against Switzerland. Photograph: Joerg Carstensen/AFP/Getty Images
It was against her better judgment that Bea Riemer agreed to join her friends in the fan zone near the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin this week. “I have been gradually getting into the tournament,” the 25-year-old business student said, but until then she had been concentrating solely on Germany’s games at the Euros, “watching at home, in the gym and in a restaurant, my attention easily diverted; cautiously optimistic, a bit nervous of joining a bigger crowd.”
Witnessing Georgia’s magnificent 2-0 win over Portugal on the big screen, though, surrounded by fans of both those teams and others, has changed her whole attitude, she said. “This is one massive, fabulous party, and I don’t need to be in the stadium but I do need to be among other people, participating in the rollicking fun.”
Ukraine, the conflict in the Middle East, the far-right’s success at the recent European elections, the cost of living crisis, had contributed to dampening the German nation’s mood before the championship, she believed.
There were also fears around security she shared with many others, after warnings by German intelligence and several recent Islamist and politically motivated attacks.
As a result, caution and doubt have been the dominant emotions among German fans and the multitude of curious onlookers towards the event which kicked off just over two weeks ago. “I did ask myself: should we actually be partying at all?” Riemer said.
The weather – until recently wet, cool and windy – had not helped. There have been several isolated security incidents though they have been quickly dealt with, including an unusually high number of pitch invaders.
If the television ratings are anything to go by, the popularity of the Euros is not in doubt. More than 25.5 million viewers nationwide tuned into the Germany-Switzerland encounter, and that is before proper figures have been gathered on the number of fans who have watched at public viewing spots, in restaurants, on the internet or via private TV stations.
Relief was huge over Germany’s nail-biting draw against Switzerland in which Niclas Füllkrug saved the day with an equaliser in the second minute of added time – unleashing what seemed like a united cry of joy heard across the country. But the ordeal in the 90 minutes or so leading up to it served to keep the elation at bay, the feelings of caution uppermost.
Commentators noted how, during the Germany-Switzerland match, when it seemed as if the German players’ flow had coagulated, the new wave song Major Tom – which has become the unofficial anthem of the tournament – was virtually drowned out by the clanging of Swiss cow bells in the Frankfurt stadium, even though German fans far outnumbered the Swiss, who anyway, as one commentator said, “are not usually known for their exuberance”.
“Overall the euphoria has been a little delayed in coming,” Tobias, a Berlin-based writer said before Germany’s last-16 game against Denmark on Saturday. “It’s yet to be seen if we’ll have a repeat of the Sommermärchen of 2006,” he said recalling the heady days of the World Cup of that year, the success of which was down as much to Germany’s role as host as to the national team’s diverse lineup and refreshing style of play. “But there’s still time,” he added.
Julian Nagelsmann, Germany’s coach, has repeatedly complained, and expressed bewilderment, that the “hunger and excitement” felt by his players has not been shared by the public. “The fans can dare to dream,” he told journalists after Germany’s victory over Hungary. “Our job is to allow them to keep dreaming.”
In return, he hoped, German fans in the stadium – of course a fraction of the whole – would up their game and show a little bit more support for the players. The fans, Nagelsmann has openly stated, are an integral part of his mission to win the title, and every nuance in their mood matters. “It’s one of our main tasks, to take the people with us, and so together to make use of the home advantage,” he said.
It is the fervour of other nations’ support for their teams that has often made headlines so far and caused Germans to marvel: in so-called Fan-Märsche or fan marches, a new phenomenon of this competition. The singing, bagpiping Scots marching through the centre of Munich waving at onlookers who cheered them from their apartments, the sashaying OnsOranje army of the Netherlands making their way en masse to matches, as well, in particular, as the underdogs: elated Albanians and joyful Georgians.
And of course, the diehard frenetic Turkey fans – who also happen to make up Germany’s largest ethnic minority – who as they have always done, blasted their car horns on boulevards across the country, Turkish flags flying from their windows and set off fireworks to celebrate their wins.
Bernd Neuendorf, president of the German Football Federation (DFB) noted with enthusiasm, before their last match, that albeit late to catch on, “even German fans have started doing the Fan-Marsch”.
A group of about 20 of them, as if recognising a gap in the market, has even registered a fanclub with the DFB, named Stimmung AG – or Mood Corporation.
Throughout this tournament Germans have been too often reminded of the calamitous state of a lot of the country’s infrastructure. The hospitality and openness towards their guests is arguably similar to what was on display in 2006. But the trains ferrying the fans across the country have often been beset by breakdowns and lengthy delays, bringing misery to many fans who have reported arriving at matches after kick-off, or not at all, leading to the rewriting of the phrase Made in Germany, long considered a byword for quality, to Late in Germany. As another commentator wrote: “When even the English are complaining about our trains, we know they must be bad.”
The national rail provider, Deutsche Bahn, has been forced into a grovelling apology, its offer of compensation failing to appease fans for whom the Euros come but every four years.
But for now the immediate focus is on Saturday’s encounter with Denmark, a side described by Rudi Völler, the Germany national team’s director and a 1990 World Cup winner as “highly dangerous” even if the hosts’ “self-confidence” should stand them in good stead. “We are having no negative thoughts that it might not go well,” he said.
Unpredictabilities abound. The team, according to reports from their base in Herzogenaurach, are training “intensively and meticulously”, though they have been hit by what Nagelsmann has referred to as a “plague of disgusting mosquitoes”.
Julia, a Berlin judge in her late 50s, watching the recent Germany-Switzerland encounter, said she too had been converted and had found an “enjoyable new pastime”, hanging out on the so-called Fan Mile in the German capital watching the match on large screens with friends and thousands of others.
“Look at that [Jamal] Musiala, the way he weaves his way so nimbly across the pitch,” she said, referring to Germany’s 21-year-old attacking midfielder. “I didn’t even know who he was a couple of weeks ago, and now I feel quite moved and proud to watch him.”