It was a weekend that had had a lot of football in it. I didn’t know much about it, but I heard the people cheering from the boy’s apartment – he lives in the “party” area of town, where there are lots of hen parties and people just going out getting drunk.
The walk to the nearest station had been tricky all weekend – there were more rowdy people in the streets than normal and the amount of graffiti on the shops’ walls in the area had doubled overnight.
I was getting a Sunday afternoon train back home, and the walk to the station wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I ducked past a group of 6 women in tutus taking photos with young boys who were leering at their breasts.
Getting on the train I managed to find 4 seats free so I sat in the corner. At the next stop, however, there was a large group of football fans – mainly men – that got on the train and were followed up by a couple of policemen.
They piled in around me. One young lad of about 18 sat next to me, making his friend nudge him and shout “waaay heeeeey!!!” Opposite me sat another young guy with his girlfriend.
“Offenbach!! Offenbach is shiiiiiiiit!!!” shouts one guy sat in the next set of seats. “Offenbach is shiiiiit!” reply all the other fans. A couple of men start a song to the tune of Waltzing Matilda, and they start bouncing up and down to the tune as everyone joins in.
Another guy in the next set of seats has the loudest voice of those around me. He seems to be really caught up in the excitement and is yelling at the top of his lungs. He also gets up to bounce to Waltzing Matilda, but then shouts “Kassel!!! Kassel is shiiiiiiiiit!”
No one replies with yells as they did with Offenbach. One thing Frankfurters can unite with is their dislike for neighbouring Offenbach, but apparently Kassel is spared the same loathing. The guy looks embarrassed and sits back down. More shouting starts and so he soon perks up when he can join in again.
While the shouting is going on, the girlfriend opposite me is wincing at the noise. We catch each others’ eye and give a look of understanding – “yeah, these guys are morons”.
Luckily the train pulls into the main station and the football fans and I go our separate ways. The girl and I nod at each other one last time – “good luck with those guys”. And she is gone in the jumping, yelling crowd.