My honest joy about Mini Olympia

Created: 08/18/2022, 16:33

By: Dieter Priglmeir

Dieter Priglmeir considers the Olympic Park to be the most beautiful spot in Munich.

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A small declaration of love from the Erdinger sports director to the European Championships.

It was true that I wasn't at the 1972 Olympics.

At that time I preferred to watch Daktari instead of sports shows, the train connection to Munich was bad, and I was only six years old.

Today everything is different.

Okay, the train connection to Munich is still bad.

But otherwise: I spend every free hour at the European Championships, which are much more than the sum of nine European Championships.

The whole town celebrates - cheerfully, not excessively and staggering from one drunkenness to the next.

It's like a Tollwood Oktoberfest - only with sport (big sport) and no beer corpses, but with a dream catcher.

The word "joy" may sound a bit old-fashioned, but it expresses the mood around the sports facilities.

Three examples of this: I sing along to strange techno songs so enthusiastically during BMX freestyle that I probably lose my license as a Bayern 1 listener.

There is also clapping along when Italy's national anthem is played in Oberschleißheim (how was that again in the soccer Supercup final the other day?).

And then the athletics: the German discus thrower Kristin Pudenz is ahead for a long time.

Only with the penultimate attempt do you snatch away Sandra Perkovic's gold.

A full eight centimeters.

Whistles from the German audience?

Of course not.

Rather, they celebrate the European champion with staccato applause when the Croatian climbs into the ring for her last attempt - and as a thank you throws another monster throw.

And then there would be this special mix of murmurs and roars when throwing the javelin.

First an encouraging clapping when running up, then the astonished "Ooooooh" because the javelin flies and flies.

Then cheers 1 upon landing.

And cheers 2 as the expanse is revealed.

TV can capture a lot, provide background and analysis.

But to feel this stadium roar all over your body - that's only possible live.

Finally, my personal stress test in the media center: I'm looking forward to a coffee, but I'm polite and let my colleagues go first at the fully automatic machine, which is very, very large, but also very sluggish.

Fast espressos are not his thing.

Every coffee turns into a five-minute tureen.

Four reporters are through, actually it's my turn, but the man behind me seems rushed.

I'm friendly again - until Mr. queue grabs two cups.

Then it's my turn.

I press and look forward to the coffee machine roar, because that's nice too.

But nothing.

Empty drip trays!

At this monster machine!

No need to be annoyed - not these days.