Berlin Diary 1

Ich bin ein Berliner. And that's about how far my german knowledge goes at the moment. But the German capital doesn't mind. Fussball (yes that's how they say football in this part of the world) transcends language and fans are always welcome in this city. Ronaldinho may have boiled down to a caricature on the streets, but many windows still sport the brazilian flag. It's all about the beautiful game, finally. No ill-feelings about Germany not being there in the finals? Not apparent, at least. As a good samaritan told me on the Munich U-Bahn station, "We are the good hosts... we let other countries win." Fair enough!

Interest in the cup had also not waned with Germany's exit. Over seven hundred thousand turned up on the fan mile in Berlin to watch the France-Italy clash. What an overwhelming experience that was. But, before I come to the finals, let me talk about the third place play-off which we watched as invitees to the media party, courtesy Dhiman of course! Sitting under the trees, swigging the 'official' beer (Anheuser Busch Bud) in the twilight and with plates heaped with sausages and sauerkraut (rather disappointing... pickled cabbage this!), we watched, surrounded by over a thousand media persons, Klinsmann's champs romp home with the third place trophy. The whole place erupted in joy and festivities were still on when we dragged ourselves to the hotel past 12 midnight. No photos though, I had forgotten my camera.

On the morning of the finals, Riju and I had gone visiting the Tierpark, or the zoo. Changing trains, asking for direction by gesticulating wildly, we reached there without any incidents. An exhauting four and a half hours later, we again boarded the U-Bahn to Alexanderplatz on our way to the hotel (near Pankow). We ran into groups of fans in the station... French fans laughing at their Italian counterparts, singing "It's easy to buy a referee in Italy" to a popular English tune (I've forgotten the words). The Italians seemed good-natured enough. They didn't mind the ribbings. Even as the game started, the French fans told the Italians, "Don't be too disappointed with the runner-up trophy. You've done good to come thus far." The Italians, of course, had the last laugh as Zidane's head-butt left the French shocked and in tears. It occurred to me as I watched the match that do they teach head-butting at Real Madrid? Figo did it, and now Zidane. Maybe Beckham would've done it too, if he had the chance!

That's all for now. Next post later. Photos will follows soon.