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This is an archive article published on June 21, 2006

Brewing trouble with each pint down the throat

Cologne on Tuesday was a mess and, as I write this a few hours before kick-off, one can only hope that it doesn’t go out of control.

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Cologne on Tuesday was a mess and, as I write this a few hours before kick-off, one can only hope that it doesn’t go out of control. The English fans — 40,000 are here, according to journalists — have been gathering in the city centre since the morning, bottles of beer by their side, their behaviour getting increasingly rowdy with each pint. The Swedish fans have been trying to keep their flag flying but haven’t been very successful. The problem is that the German fans have got into the act (and will be there till the Germany match begins) so there’s been a battle of sorts there itself.

Follow the FA dictum

FIFA made two big mistakes with this match. First, given the game’s importance (which could have been predicted the moment the schedule was made) and given the history of English fans, this should have been an afternoon kickoff. That cuts down on pre-match drinking time so they are relatively sober when gathered en masse. That’s what the FA and the British police do with high-profile matches with the risk of fan trouble; they are given noontime kickoffs to cut down on the booze intake. Second, the stadium in Cologne is among the smallest of the dozen used in the World Cup; it seats 40,000, and a match like this could have generated double that number in ticket sales. That also means a large number of disgruntled England fans out on the streets. Not a happy prospect.

Organised takeover

You have to give them one thing, though; they are organised. They had virtually taken over the plaza in front of the central station, with two huge England flags draped on the stairs to the Cathedral. And if English football is here, can The Sun be far behind? There was a double-decker on the plaza painted with the newspaper’s logo and exhortations for the team, and they were distributing balloons that soon found their way all over the city centre.

Standing the test of time

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If there wasn’t any violence before the match, the Cologne Cathedral — which overlooks the central plaza — can take the credit. It is so awe-inspiring, so impossibly beautiful and — dare we say it — so un-Teutonic in its delicate elegance that one possibly cannot contemplate violence anywhere near it. Indeed, it must be more than a coincidence that in a city so badly ravaged by the RAF during World War II, the Cathedral was barely touched — even though the streets around were reduced to rubble. Built in the 13th century, its main features are the soaring towers, the intricate work on the fa‡ade, the plethora of stained-glass windows — and the shrine of the Three Magi. I found the last particularly interesting because, while we all know the story of the Three Wise Men, they appeared to me to have bit parts in the overall Christian ethos. Yet their relics are here, it seems; the Emperor Friedrich Barbarossa gave them to the Archbishop of Cologne. So Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar have a fitting resting place.

Tailpiece

My wife is not usually critical of my habits but one thing that gets her goat is my (alleged) refusal to ask for directions when lost, which usually happens every time I drive a new route. So she would be happy to see me in Germany asking for directions at every opportunity, and my advice to those intending to travel here is, ask for help whenever you have the slightest doubt. It’s necessary, even while walking, because a wrong turn could set you back quite a bit of time; and people are very willing to help.

The hotel where I am is off the map of Cologne — another bit of advice: follow city maps wherever possible, they are excellent — so finding the nearest train station was getting me down. Each person I asked put me on the right track but their idea of “short walk” didn’t match with mine. The fourth person I asked grabbed my arm and set off briskly, then stopped, asked me where I was from. When he heard India, he turned around and — still holding on to me — found a friend of his. A rapid exchange in German, then the other man introduced himself as Virender Singh. He confirmed the directions and, in answer to my question, said, “It’s not really that close.”

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