Fans at the match between Germany and France in Munich.
The DFB-Elf lost 0: 1 (only for information for the author of this text, who is not the author of this caption)
Photo: MIS / imago images
Maybe it's because of the levels of the preliminary round, maybe because of the missing flags in the cityscape.
Maybe I shouldn't have sent the sports section of the newspaper to the waste paper unread, maybe I should just have been more interested in the world, be it that of football.
In any case, it was only three days before the opening game that I noticed that another international tournament was coming up.
It was in the supermarket where I suddenly stumbled upon a 400 gram pack of crisps.
The typical accessory for the learned ritual of finding oneself in stupid jerseys "with friends" and turning back into howling cavemen.
Because you obviously do it as a fan of popular sports, stuffing yourself with vegetable fats in front of the television and rinsing yourself off with beer.
On the bag I discovered the logo, "Euro 2021", apparently moved from the previous year.
The lack of singing and sound, with which it must have turned out, was already very helpful to me in 2020.
Even then, I hadn't missed the European Championship and humanity had other problems.
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She still has that, but gradually "things" have to "start" again with culture - or at least football as the paramilitary arm of the entertainment industry.
They pull this off.
A lot depends on it.
"I don't give a flying fuck," as the English say.
Do they even play along?
And where is it actually being played?
The globalized placelessness of the event is also a problem, I'm afraid.
How any games end in Baku, Glasgow or Bucharest usually only cares for the guys who park in the second row in front of the betting office.
However, I am pleased that the game plan is getting the aviation industry back on its feet in addition to the potato chips.
If I could have a say, then it might be different, then I would trumpet stuff like: "He has to make the rooms tight!" Or "Now you should bring some calm into the game!"
Strangely enough, all the experts around me - people who supposedly can "read" a game as if it were a novel by Juli Zeh - are as if swallowed by the ground.
Presumably all of the specialists have recently retrained and are now epidemiologists.
In doing so, I really tried, made a real effort.
I watched the opening game in a very modern way from the sickbay, where the consequences of my vaccination had banished me, on my smartphone.
Jerk-free boredom, I have to say that, technology is making its progress here too.
Soon I was interrupted by a message from my brother, who was on a bike tour in Swabia, so I went to a couple of churches on the side and researched the sex of the Habsburgs, Billie Eilish's new single, and before I knew it was I've come from stick to stick and the game is over.
I can't remember the result or the participants in the game.
The good thing is that I don't have to apologize for my soccer fatigue this time.
In the pub the other day, the guests asked the landlady to turn the sound down, please - you can't understand your own word with this commentary!
Since the "summer fairy tale" at the latest, anyone who was not interested in national nonsense was considered a snob or even a defeatist.
Social hostage was what you could only buy your way out of by participating in editorial-internal prediction games.
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Or hypocritical interest, at best in women's football as an "emancipatory project" and a damned duty of every enlightened man, including his father.
The daughter wants to join the rowing club?
Forget it, girls, football is played, it strengthens the defenses against patriarchy!
From that bad time I still know who Steffi Jones is.
Only yesterday I discovered her on a poster for Netto, now she is »conquering« another »male domain« with the barbecue.
In general, letting the event drift by has the funny effect that most of the advertising doesn't make any sense at all.
Normally only Jürgen Klopp's white fighting teeth stick out from the ads, but now?
Who are these people?
Why are they so happy?
Do I want to have chips with them?
As on autopilot, the responsible boulevard continues to report bravely, although the population demonstrably does not want to comply with the amusement order.
Nothing "ignites", the whole thing seems so out of date.
It is as if the geese have noticed that they should be stuffed with a prescribed enthusiasm - and prefer to go into cooling waters.
Anyway, second-order messages that result from it are more spectacular than sport.
Greenpeace attacks football fans!
Ronaldo ruins Coca-Cola!
Elephant oracle oracles something!
It could go on like this, without football, until the final - and beyond.
The Olympic Games in Japan begin in July.
This will be a party.