A maximum of joy: Niclas Füllkrug
Photo: Luca Bruno / dpa
Why do I get scared when Germans are overly happy?
Maybe because we are always a bit too loud, the cheers too violent, the faces too tense.
When Germans are happy, refrigerators explode.
Niclas Füllkrug just doesn't cheer at all.
Thank you Abundance
Germany should be how you are.
After the 1-1 draw against Spain, Füllkrug looked like a primary school student who missed the bus.
Maybe he was cheering inside, no one knows.
Was he embarrassed by the goal?
After the game he said the wonderfully programmatic sentence: "We don't have to go crazy now." You could put that up all over the World Cup.
The best interviews with footballers happen a few seconds after the final whistle anyway.
When the gladiators have a microphone shoved in their face after the fight for their lives.
Sweaty boys from your area.
Goretzka hung his shoulders, Kimmich had apparently completely forgotten the game he had played.
Perhaps his mind was already at home on the sofa.
The only one who seemed recovered was Thomas Müller, who chatted happily until he suddenly remembered the defeat against Japan and sighed: "We had imagined it all very differently." I've forgotten what Neuer said.
Füllkrug gave us a few minutes of rest from this absurd World Cup, from corrupt Fifa, from the tournament in the desert.
Maybe we'll get through the preliminary round, maybe not.
A draw is the little man's victory.
The first advent was a mini Christmas.
Full night, holy night.
We're not freaking out.