Football idiot Kester Schlenz likes to drive real connoisseurs crazy while watching European Championship football with Gaga comments. He calls it “aggressive eating”.
A football evening with friends. I’m there too, I have no idea about the game, but I like to talk. And drive everyone crazy with it. A lot of fun. But can be dangerous if overdosed. At the last game in Germany, I was gagged and pelted with pretzel sticks for the last five minutes.
A good place to start is with the question: “Who are we? The whites or the reds?” When the players play. The fact that I don’t recognize Goretzka in close-up says it all. But I don’t recognize him. Until recently I thought Goretzka was Spiderman’s alien enemy or something. I would recognize Ballack, but I heard he stopped playing. I always need a little to memorize the stars.
“We have to stand more compactly,” I teach!
After the whistle I wait a minute or two and then say with a connoisseur face: “We have to be more compact.” I get the first disapproving looks. Of course, the others also talk, praise or scold you. Very knowledgeable, it seems to me. Time to counter it.
“We have to play more on the wings,” I call out when that’s exactly what someone is doing. That always works out well: Demanding things that are currently happening. “More pressure, friends”, for example, when a good attack is in progress. It also works the other way around. When the German team listlessly kicks back and forth or keeps playing the ball back to the goalkeeper, I say appreciatively: “In terms of commitment, I really can’t blame ourselves, folks!”
There, an expensive star player shoots! Past. “Money doesn’t score,” I mumble resignedly. And add: “Close at the back and God helps in front.”
I hardly know any rules, but I do know a lot of soccer phrases
The first of my friends clear their throats clearly.
The game is gaining momentum. Goretzka suits Gosens. “Just hold onto it, boy,” I yell as he shoots. And add completely senseless: “Now the pressure comes from behind. I think we play to win!”
The first of my buddies can no longer remain silent: “Uh, can you do without comments, dude?”
“Of course,” I reply. “But you know. I’m fully involved in European and World Cups.”
I know how much real football fans hate us unsuspecting event cheers. That’s why I still say: “Otherwise I don’t really care about football.” My friend Thomas’ mouth is just a thin line. I have to pay attention. Willful, grievous bodily harm is an option for him when it comes to football.
At some point it will be dangerous for the phrase harvester
I am strategically silent. But after five minutes I tighten the screw again. Time for a few generalities. “Anything is possible in football,” I mumble softly.
No reaction.
Okay, one more thing: “There must be zero at the back.”
Now it’s time again for direct commentary on what happened. “A good cross. But unfortunately nobody was there,” I comment on a good cross into nowhere. And then: “A goal would be good for the game.”
There, now 18-year-old, nimble Jamal Musiala gets the ball. “Well,” I comment. “He’s no longer as fast as it used to be.” Thomas can no longer. “Can you shut up, please.”
I nod.
Now it is important to continue with a sense of proportion. I’m going into the phase of the extra-linguistic minimal comments. I hum, click, hiss and grunt when something happens. Usually when it doesn’t fit. That irritates the others even more.
Time for a little break. I go pee – and painfully slowly past the television. It is also good to sit on the remote control and switch it “accidentally”.
But I haven’t done that since I recently lost two teeth. Incidentally, Thomas got parole. The judge was a football fan.
I have been working in the news industry for over 6 years, first as a reporter and now as an editor. I have covered politics extensively, and my work has appeared in major newspapers and online news outlets around the world. In addition to my writing, I also contribute regularly to 24 Hours World.
