A day at ‘An Der Alten Forsterei’

When someone visits a stadium for the first time, it’s like a first date. People know the look of the site and hope that there will be understanding, synergy, good vibes. Sometimes it happens in more famous places (in the city itself or in a club that has always been followed). And in others, exoticism and mystery emerge due to the uniqueness of the setting. Everything is allowed to discover a new love.

A few months ago I planned a trip to Berlin. And it was precisely on that weekend that the Union Berlin would host Stuttgart. The context seemed perfect. The fashionable team in Germany and Europe will face a team from the bottom of the Bundesliga. While An Der Alten Forsterei’s 22,012 spectator capacity wasn’t meant to make it easy for me and my friend Héctor to get a pair of tickets, we still had to try.

We all have contacts in the media world. And in turn, these contacts have their own contacts. It’s easy to get a phone number or a Twitter account to try and work out a miracle. The hard part is getting a receptive answer or a real opportunity to visit one of the most thriving stadiums on the entire continent.

I was lucky enough to find Alberto, the person responsible for the Unión Berlín Twitter account in Spanish. I told him, via WhatsApp, the situation. And I said that because I live in Liverpool I could try and help him get Anfield tickets. Coincidentally, he went to Merseyside that same weekend to watch the game against Manchester United (the one with the resounding 7-0). And finally he (without my help) could attend the meeting and watch such an episode of De Kop. Before, during and after we share beers, anecdotes, life contexts and opinions on football and other topics.

Twitter is being talked about as a very toxic place. But apart from agreeing on the general case, I believe there is still a very healthy atmosphere that can be recognized, exploited and enjoyed. And this is the perfect example of it all. Another thing is what we prioritize or give more importance to. It was hard for me, but I finally got it clear.

Alberto explained to me the ticket request system for the Unión Berlin. The number of subscribers ensures a discounted ticket package for each game. Then a lottery is held with the remaining part among the remaining members who request the meeting ticket. The winners can give their entry to other people who have not had the same luck.

But the Union, like Liverpool (though the Reds are only in certain fan groups) has a moral code for partying. If someone sells a ticket to another person, it must be for the same price they paid the club for. There is no flexibility or possible business.

We have a ticket for my friend Hector. And Alberto made sure that I could enter the party with accreditation. Everything was ready. And the anticipation and motivation through the air.

We went to the stadium early. Soon exaggerated. The game was at 3:30pm and we got there around 11:00am. An Der Alten Forsterei is surrounded by forest, a residential area and the main entrance with parking. The first print generates a combination of emotion and tradition. You can see the stands where the fans stand (in 3 of the four stands). And that brings you in touch with the football of yesteryear. Moreover, it rained sparingly and without aggressiveness. No cold or wind. It was one of those Saturdays when you sat at home reading the paper and waited for the rest of the family to wake up with a steaming coffee in hand, as the drops clattered against the windows and fell without haste or pause to a destination no one knew. care about.

When we were already there, we decided to visit the store. Far from the austerity and charm of the main entrance, the establishment consists of a series of containers stacked with graffiti (the good ones) at the entrance. Once inside I was handed a team scarf and Hector a hat. We all want to take a piece of the fashion team with us. From the team that would touch our hearts in a few hours.

We took the obligatory photos when the crowds, dynamism and soul had not yet arrived at the stadium. In other words, there were no fans. It was time to find a place to get in touch with all this as soon as possible, to live the experience from the most truthful and believable side. And that, on a rainy Saturday in Germany (and elsewhere), happens in a bar.

They told us about the Union Tanke. When I arrived it no doubt reminded me of those football field bars where children and young people play before they come of age and realize they will never be professionals. That place, in the open air, simply covered with tents to keep out the (unsatisfying) rain, brought together about twenty Union fans and about six from Stuttgart, who had to travel about six hours by train or a few more hours by car. would have traveled.

There I tasted one of the worst beers of my life and took advantage of one of the services that took me back to my childhood. Like those changing rooms on those fields where you would change before trying to be a star on the dirt fields and leave your legs and knees with every action. Those changing rooms that made you feel cold, even when it was hot outside. That feeling of going back in time. Where you once went To what once was. You and football. Together and apart.

It was absolutely not feasible to keep drinking that beer, so we opted for the second alternative. This time the Abseitsfalle welcomed us with good quality barley juice, a hundred Union fans and a screen with Sky Sports to watch Manchester City-Liverpool. Mission accomplished.

It’s time to go to the game. Hector and I broke up. And I went for my accreditation. Although, yes, I got muddy to the top surrounding the stadium through the woods juggling not to fall and, yes, enjoying the disaster like a three-year-old contemplating getting muddy fun. Finally, in a room next to the main entrance, a man who spoke little English behaved with the utmost kindness to make up for the lack of German. From me of course. He explained to me in detail and with great patience the access to the mixed zone and the press conference. All this without too much fanfare and with the most Teutonic efficiency imaginable. There was food and drink for the journalists. In Germany, things are done as they should be done. And point.

However, the entrance for the press is through one of the entrances that the public also has. I got into position without much effort when there was almost an hour to go before the game with the mythical lineup paper in hand. There, another friendly journalist pointed out my site with complete precision. Once I got there, a big surprise came. The stadium was almost full. And there was still a lot left to start the match.

This has a very simple explanation. And at the same time very surprising. The pitches are not numbered. So whoever gets there first gets the seat they want. And whoever comes last gets what’s left. And with the option to eat and drink whatever you want in the stands, people enter the stadium early. Business for the club.

Kick-off time arrived and what appeared to be an intimate stadium of 22,000 people with lively fans on a Saturday afternoon turned into a colosseum with a better acoustic level than other venues such as Tottenham Hotspur, Stamford Bridge or Do Dragao. The experience of getting to know Europe through football allows you to make these kinds of totally subjective and refutable judgments. But only by those who have done similar things.

A speaker emerges and sets the people on fire and the room erupts. Shawls appear in abundance, songs that are unanimous and perfectly known to all, and a mystique that can only be understood by those who have seen and felt An Der Alten Forsterei. It’s unique. Hard to describe for me after being in more than 40 stadiums. He had never seen anything like it.

The game begins and the first half is notorious. In the fifteenth minute, the bottom where the Union will attack the second part begins a chant that, without any foresight or planning, continues the entire side on the left. They take turns two by two for seven or eight minutes. All this attracts my attention much more than what happens on the field. It’s fascinating.

Stuttgart scores and the VAR cancels the goal. The shock wears off and the visiting fans raise a banner against Video Arbitration. In situations like this one wonders if the bottom club in the Bundesliga carries that banner for 11 hours by train or 12 hours by road to remove it when such a vicissitude occurs. Football is so great because of questions like this. And that’s why it moves us so much. Because the smallest stories and the most insignificant details generate the greatest empathy.

No goals at half time. But at the beginning of the second half, Sheraldo Becker scored. It is not known if he is a Latin salsa performer or if he could be an unrecognizable descendant of the poet. Especially when you see it for the first time. But his goal put Unión Berlin ahead and An Der Alten Forsterei through the air. The result left the team behind Bayern Munich and Borussia Dortmund ahead of Der Klassiker.

Two more blows were dealt. One by Kevin Behrens and one by an own goal by Stuttgart after an action by the illustrious Sheraldo and his co-scorer. Delirium in the stadium and maneuvers in all the press staff of the club, sitting in line in front of me and with an absolutely incredible speed of reaction. One of them, able to manage the Union’s German account and put the stories on Instagram with the best typography and without spelling mistakes while smoking. Next to him, another watches the games on a tablet and another draws the final score on a kind of template. What we do in life reverberates into eternity and what happens on the field puts these five professionals to work tirelessly. Football is often more pragmatic than we think and less romantic than we think.

The game ends, but not for that reason the songs. Stuttgart fans ask for their own explanations after another defeat and many hours of transport, banners, flags and votes that ended with a resounding and indisputable 3-0 against. The boys of the Union laugh, celebrate and sing with their own. After the shared experience with the team, they pass the side of the stadium, the only area where there are seats, and all the players pass by to greet the fans who need a high five, a smile or a moment of remembrance with the heroes of his team before they approach the locker room tunnel and end their day on the field.

After witnessing so much humanity, from my first contact with Alberto to leaving An Der Alten Forsterei, you wonder if a team with the simplicity and humanity of a club, shared by all its employees and players, cannot extended to the equipment with higher reverberation. Why can the club everyone is talking about achieve the greatest successes in its history through benevolence and closeness to its people, while others insist on being artificial and distancing themselves from their fans?

Union Berlin is a unique team from start to finish. Their fans want success, but not at all costs. They don’t want to expand the stadium by paying the price of the essentials. They don’t want to play the Champions League and lose their uniqueness. The end does not justify the means for them. But the experience in An Der Alten Forsterei, as always, justifies all the love and faith in football. That of the people. That of the people. A club, of those who are fans. I went as a journalist. But now I’m one more. From now on, Eisern Union!

Juan Yague