Ground #157: Stadion An der Alten Försterei, 1.FC Union Berlin

26/05/2015

1.FC Union Berlin 2-2 FC Ingolstadt 04

Jopek 75', 79' | Matip 5', Levels 82'

Attendance: 17,761 (approx 200 away)

Admission: €14

As previously mentioned, the final game of my three match haul would arrive in the format of more second division football at the highly revered Stadion An der Alten Forsterei, home of the capital's second biggest club, the colloquially known 'Eisern Union' (Iron Union).

FC Union are well-known across European football for their very community and fan driven aspect towards the building of their club, even more so by the socialist ideals that define German football. Indeed, their iconic stadium itself is renowned for the renovation scheme undertook by fans in the summer of 2009, who literally themselves rebuilt the crumbling stadium amid the threat of closure. Roughly 2,500 supporters put in an astonishing 140,000 man hours between them to enable the grounds continuance and evolvement into the wonderful venue it is today. 

Prior to the refurbishment, the ground didn't possess any cover save for it's small seated stand. Uniquely for a club of their size, it has maintained three sides of terracing; around 17,000 of the ground's 21.8k capacity is owed to standing spaces. The rebuilt main seated stand is now as swish and stylish as they come, also housing the club's offices. 

I made my way to Kopenick, the south-eastern district of Berlin that the ground is situated in, after a very stressful and anger induced hour spent venting expletives to nobody but myself after managing to become hopelessly lost and totally inept at being able to navigate the location of my hostel. A similar scenario happens on virtually every European outing I embark on. I print instructions, I print several maps, nothing can possibly go wrong. Only it can, I fail to get my bearings correct, I become confused, I get stressed, I start ranting and raving and become very restless. I thereafter calm down, realise that I've been a total twat and am at fault for my own predicament, have a laugh at my own expense and get on with my life. 

I gave up bothering to find my hotel and thus drop my belongings off before setting off to the stadium. The ground, if you're going via public transport, is best reached on an S-Bahn line. The key info is that from most areas of Berlin you require changing at Ostkruez, whereafter the S3 line is only ten minutes away from Kopenick. The walk from the ground there takes around 10-15 minutes. 

As you may have guessed the ground is rather idiosyncratic with its location, it being clearly indicated in the stadium name, which hardly requires an 'A' grade at GSCE in the language to garner the linguistic connection. Don't however expect this to be a picturesque, romanized leafy area, however! The pathway is littered with disposed beer glasses (which tbf, duly get picked up for recycling) and the scraggly bushes are inevitably lined up with beer bellied blokes unloading their bladder upon mother nature. 

The ground itself, partly due to its restrictive location, is an absolute logistical nightmare. I have never had such a militant, security-stricken entrance into a German football ground. The gates are operated by humans, rather than machinery, which somewhat lengthens the queueing process; just a small gate opened for a stand which holds several thousand people in it. Despite arriving at the gates around 50 minutes prior to kick-off, it probably took the best part of 25 minutes actually getting into the ground. There are streams of security guards who fully and quizzically search your pockets and belongings. Still with my backpack, I was forced to dispose of my aftershave by the jobsworth determining my fate. For fuck sake, common sense should reign supreme in situations like this. I am a lonesome, oddball traveller, more likely to throw a cuddle than a punch at a football game. What the fuck would my motivation be for launching an aftershave bottle at someone?

The charade arriving into the ground dampened my perception of uber fan friendliness to some extent, and I was equally unimpressed by the total of one small mobile of toilets to cater for several thousand fans. For a huge sufferer of stage fright when it comes down to *Dennis Wise needing to perform, I don't enjoy waiting around for too long. 

*I call it that because it's small, ugly, hasn't been seen in years and rarely ever ventured into the opposition's box to begin with. 

But on a positive note, the stadium itself is as quaint, compact and awesome as it is regarded. I was also super pleased that they have those rentable, personalised club beers glasses, which I am now accumulating a collection of. And you needn't venture back off the stand for a refill either; the presence and service of the beer backpack sellers were as regular and well-equipped as I've came across. As an unashamed borderline alcoholic, I realise both the positive and dangerous implications of such a service. 

Also supreme was my half-time trip to the bottom of the stand for some scran. Union offer up the delights of a paprika-spiced rump of steak, service exquisitely inside a bread roll. Highly recommended, though any carnivore around with a sense of smell won't require my commandment to purchase one.

One thing I did feel a little let down on was the atmosphere. Don't get me wrong; it's good, especially compared the mundane, meekly observed stuff generally conjured up the placid crowd in my home country. It didn't feel particularly special, or even notable, by German standards. I understand a few mitigating factors possible towards this

• The opponents, FC Ingolstadt, are not a pulse raiser. They roughly took around 200 fans to the capital, in spite of going into this game in hand with a five point cushion on trailing Kaiserslautern. For all talk of how the German game is run by the people with the fans best interests a heart, there seems to be a high current emergence and trend in bankrolled clubs flourishing at all levels of the pyramid. Audi owned Bavarians Ingolstadt are pissing the division and look set for their first season in the top flight. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for small clubs overachieving and bloodying the noses of the bigger boys (see Paderborn's surprise elevation to the Bundesliga last year and subsequent strong fist of staying there), however, when it comes at undeserving towns with very little football heritage it is disheartening. I was later informed by an Aldershot lad I met up with that it is very much an ice hockey town. To be fair to the lot that did turn up, they did muster up a nice pre-match choreography, and appeared to sing through the match, but the majority of the end was empty and you couldn't hear anything. 
• The game was a dead rubber for Union fans. That said, mid-table obscurity for the club seems to be the norm year on year for them. 
• Sunday 1.30pm kick-off's can't be many people's cups of tea, but then again, it's a regular scheduled k/o time for that division. 
• I was situated in a crap part of the terrace which I regret buying tickets for. I was by the corner flag, in a more family friendly part of the terrace. You should always try and be more amongst it if you can. 

A lot of people are induced by their cool, slow-building, rock genre entrance theme. It's very unique, well worth checking up on youtube. Not my personal favourite, I prefer the far cheesier and catchy pop efforts by Duisburg and Monchengladbach, but I can see why a lot of people are so fond of it! 

I also loved one of their simple but effective chants. The kurve behind the goal shout "Eisern" towards the side terrace who in turn shout back "Union", which, by the way, rather amusingly sounds like a German pronunciation of 'Onion', which had my wryly smiling to my immature self for the duration. Anyway, the shouts start to quicken and become louder and louder, to the point where they are starting to sound downright aggressive and want to swing a few right hooks at each other. At the end as they become weary, they clap themselves in a self-congratulatory manner!

For the first time in several outings I was actually treated to a thoroughly entertaining game of football, which was a nice bonus. 

Eisern certainly didn't look like the side with zilch to kick a ball in anger for and actually for the best part of it looked like the superior side. Is it possible to describe a goal as "against the run of play" when it has hit the back of the onion (or union) bag within four minutes of the game occurring? No? Oh, well OK. But either way it came out of nowhere. Ingolstadt received a free kick just within the Union half and as the players prepared to defend a lofted cross, the visiting centre back smartly remained on the left hand side of the box, completely unguarded after his marker went awol, oblivious to the flawlessly constructed training ground routine about to occur. The set-piece was perfectly lofted into his path, he took the ball into his stride with control not befitting of your standard centre half, and duly poked the ball through the Union Berlin goalkeeper's legs. 1-0. 

Union regained composure however and looked the stronger of the two sides; enjoying the vast majority of possession and carving out several half-chances. Shortly after the break, forward Seb Polter was set through on goal but wrongly had the flag raised up against him. He duly missed with his lobbed on-one-one effort anyhow. 

The middle period of the second half seemed to be petering out without any signs of serious goal threat. Eisern forced up several corners but were not once able to put in a delivery of any quality, which in my opinion is one of biggest travesties from paid professional footballers.

Then suddenly, completely out of nowhere, a divine piece of magic unearthed from central Scandanavian midfielder Bjorn Jopek set the stadium alight. A neat build up on the edge of the area, a reverse ball played neatly into his bath, he took a stride towards the edge of the area and unleashed a beautiful left footed rocket that had the opposing goalkeeper flat on his arse after grasping thin air. It wasn't even hit aside of the keeper's positioning, but the ball was hit so hard, so true, without even dipping, just evading underneath the crossbar. Slightly off of his line, there was nothing his acrobatic efforts could do to prevent what was quite simply one of the finest strikes I've seen in live action for sometime. 'Thunderbolt' style efforts don't tend to be my favoured style of wondergoals, but there was something so superb about the technique of this strike that set it apart from the rest of it's type. Sublime. 

His next strike that completed the turnaround a minute later weren't too shabby either. Lining up a free-kick from twenty odd yards again, he stepped up and curled a low dipping shot that went just adrift of the wall and crept in via the woodwork. A well deserved and just quickfire turnaround against an increasingly cynical Ingolstadt side left me smiling.

The joy was to be short-lived however, the guests ensuring that they'd be back on level terms again a few minutes later to conclude a crazy 7 minute goal glut. Another set piece, this time off the bonce of another defender; Tobian Levels. His glancing header had a strong enough connection to glide past Amsif thus rolling along the post, and was adjudged to have already crossed the line after being bundled in for good measure by his supporting cast.

And that's how the scoreline remained. A thoroughly entertaining game, cheers lads. Good to be amongst a home end roar and celebration after a recent streak of being a bad omen to German home clubs!

One of the most startling observations I made out of my visit of Union Berlin more than anything was the presence of several openly gay couples, of both male and female variety. I saw several of whom were holding hands and displaying affection. I'm not sure if this is attributed to Berlin's general reputation as a liberal, open-minded city or whether it's more of a reflection of FC Union and their tolerable attitude.

I can't say with all due certainly that they are openly accepted with clear joy by all sections of their support but without wanting to sound like a patronizing, condescending cretin yet again (but failing) but it was warming to see that they could feel safe to feel comfortable in such a macho-male and ultimately, and quite sadly, a typically homophobic environment that generally surrounds the majority of football stadiums. I'd honestly quite dread the reaction that two guys holding hands would provoke amongst some of our support. I think I only know of a singular openly gay bloke who supports Dover, and while some would say that it's gentle harmless 'ribbing', I have previously felt uncomfortable with a few of the comments that I have heard towards him.

Anyhow, me commenting on such matters is somewhat hypocritical in the first place. After all, I'm as much as a casual homophobic in a football ground as much as anyone. How often have I joined in or even initiated a chant covering a lyric that implies that all Dartford fans are homosexuals (as if that is supposed to be an insult)? How many times in the heat of a game have I shouted "get off the floor you fucking poof", or words to such effect? While genuine homophobia and denial of equal rights and legislation for gay sections of society angers me, it's still ingrained into UK football culture and it's difficult to ever foresee a tolerant and welcoming crowd on homosexual players and supporters.

Through the forest! Very few bars and pubs en route, though there are a few. Pub culture really isn't as such in Germany anyway, but there are plenty of cheap beer stalls. 

Trolleys collecting the empties and a beer tree!

This now houses orange and pineapple squash in my home. 

Old school scoreboard, one of the few features unchanged since the ground's rework.

Mmmmm. Steak.

The joy was short-lived.

Ground #156: Nudelarena, BSG Stahl Riesa.

25/04/2015
BSG Stahl Riesa 0-1 FC International Leipzig

Losarah '68

Sachenliga (6th division)
Attendance; 492 (20 away)
Admission: €4

I was first alerted to the existence of meinfernbus from an MSV Duisburg supporting friend who recommended the budget bus company as a cheaper, viable alternative for longer cross-city trips across ze Deutschland, as opposed to the often costly (if somewhat sexy and swanky) intercity trains. 

Scouring around, I discovered a link of routes that would enable me to fit in the perfect three match trip. An overnight, seven-hour journey bus would leave from Dortmund to Dresden in the infant hour of Saturday morning, enabling me to watch the mighty Zebras conquer the much reviled Dynamo in their infamously hostile Gluckgas Stadion from the away end.

Then the same website would enable me to catch a two hour coach ride to Berlin (and specifically taking in Union Berlin's home game) on Sunday, setting me back just a measly in €7 in addition to the €25 cost from the previous night. Unlike our own economy national bus companies like National Express, meinfern actually provide genuinely cheap, comfortable and affordable longer distance trips with the savings being great enough to warrant overlooking travelling by favourite method of transport (railway, natch). 

What could possibly be greater than this beautiful plan that had all clicked together? From a historical perspective there are fewer cities I have been more eager to visit than Dresden and Berlin, particularly as a Cold War and WWII *enthusiast. 

*Is 'enthusiast' the right term here? I mean, I'm not actually joyful to the concept of an ideological conflict between two world superpowers who are the on the brink of destroying one another with nuclear weapons. Nor do I particularly enjoy the thought of mass warfare that left thousands of cities lying in rubble and perished millions of innocent lives across the world. But I do enjoy learning and reading about such things, in particular I have always questioned the moral justification of the allied forces' firebombing and destruction of the city of Dresden in the closing months of WWII and whether the civilian death toll was proportionate to military gains and the subsequent ending of the war. Thus with my deep interest in the city and its following rebuild, visiting the 'Florence of the Elbe' had long been on the bucket list.

Regardless though, devastation struck me hard the very following day I had booked all the key components of my trip (travel, hostels and match tickets). The game had against MSV Duisburg had already been pegged back to the Sunday thus meaning that I'd be faced without the main football event of my trip. Gut wrenching. I was eagerly relishing the task of navigating out of the stadium alive from the hands of Dynamo Ultras after having had the audacity to have beaten them. 

For the record, I'm not actually an MSV Duisburg supporter, nor do I identify myself as one. They were one of my very first experiences of football in Germany and a key part of why I fell in love with their football culture. I do feel a certain fondness for them and look out for their results though. I really hope they can return to the second tier this season, only a few seasons after they were demoted for financial irregularities. 

I undertook hours of research in the hope of finding a reasonably close and worthwhile backup options but sensible ideas were at a premium. None of the traditionally big East German clubs, such as Carl Zeiss Jena, Chemnitzer, Hallescher or BSG Chemie Leipzig were either at home or playing on the Saturday. The closest professional clubs in action, Rot-Weiss Erfurt and Energie Cottbus (both of them in the third division) were awkward 3 hour journeys by public transport, such is the lack of decent rail infrastructure available in the east. Oddly enough my closest top flight game choice would be a few hour bus ride over the border in Prague at Bohemians 1905.

Even Dynamo Dresden's reserves (5th tier) home match at the splendid communist era Heinz-Steyer Stadion was moved to a Tuesday evening at short notice. Thus it appeared as if I would have to endure the hardship of a football-less 24 hours. 

As part of my exploration of Dresden, I trespassed into this aforementioned Heinz-Steyer Stadion, home of Dynamo's reserves, and home to the first team many moons ago. An absolute behemoth of a bygone era still standing, albeit in a wonderfully derelict and crumbling state.

But fear not. One final push to not make me not reflect on a sense of squandered opportunity thereafter made me stoop as far down as searching as low as the sixth level of the pyramid; in the localised state of Saxony.

Now. as a general rule I have generally abided by in recent years is this; to never watch non-league football as a neutral ever again. Having had to endure the misguided and completely false notions about non-league football being a "real" game being played by "real" men in a friendly, cheap and cheerful environment where everybody peacefully coexists has long left me harbouring a feeling of familiarity breeding contempt. So to abandon this principle it would have to be something of real temptation to lure me back into the world of paedophile mascots, meat-paste sandwiches and hip flasks.

There was something particularly stoking about the history of BSG Stahl Riesa, however, that grasped my attention. Located just 40km north of the city of Dresden, I would not have to venture to far offbeat to get there, somewhat of a consolation if the game and match experience would evolve into a complete dud. 

BSG like many clubs in the former GDR, have floundered badly since reunification. Like so many others in the region, financial struggles have hit them hard, compounding in the former club dissolving in 2003 after years of mergers and desperate attempts to stay afloat. 

The original club, TSV Stahl Riesa, were of the original stalwarts of the DDR-Oberliga, otherwise known as East Germany's top flight. They spent sixteen seasons there from 1967, usually just as one of the division's also rans - but quite a remarkable achievement given the town's modest population. After dissolution of GDR, the town of Riesa was badly affected due to the closure of the town's traditional steelwork industry, as somewhat clearly indicated by the club's name. The town's population has decreased from over 50,000 to just 32,000 in the intervening couple of decades. 

The town's other footnote of the town's reputation is for its pasta production; hence the brilliant name of the club's ground; Nudelarena. Literally a translation of 'Noodle Arena'! Thus making the effort to go there would give Lewes FC's 'Dripping Pan' long overdue competition for the best name ground I have ever been to. There's even a noodle museum on the same road as the ground (which unfortunately I didn't have enough time to visit). 

The 3km walk from Riesa's bahnhof to the ground was a bit of an eye opener, an 'experience' to put it kindly. You hear and read perceptions of the East being a bit grim, backwards and derelict; set back after decades of a communist totalitarian regime. The grandeur of Dresden would lead you to believe such an idea is a myth, but this fully lived up to such a stereotype. What an odd place this was. Really run down, eerily quiet, several abandoned warehouses and railway buildings, graffitied streets and a sense of the land that time forgot. Completely contrasting, I also surpassed several pleasant country houses, seemingly dotted in totally the wrong environment.

Approaching the mythical Noodle Arena, I was soon felt to feel like I was completely in the wrong universe. Joining the queue at the tea hut turnstile, a hench, heavily bulked, skinheaded, completely tattooed and bearded steward hurried over to me. Attempting to communicate to each other in broken languages, us both unable to converse properly in each others mother's tongue, he pulled my phone out of my pocket and indicated towards the gallery of my phone. He was signifying to not take pictures of the ground, as I had done with the ground's entrance sign.

Needless to say having skid my pants just a tad, I duly obliged to his request. Well, sort of. Any photographs I have taken below are sneak ones on the few rare occasions where I felt I wasn't being observed, so you'll have to excuse their poor quality. It's a shame really, as it was a cool, quirky little ground. Completely uncovered but terraced three sides around the length of ground, the other goal is just a small field with a couple of football nets, which, true to non-league rituals, had several enthusiastic whippersnappers enjoying a kickabout rather than viewing the dross being served up the seniors. One length of the ground has a sectioned scarily ugly Eastern European styled corrugated away end, completely barriered and fenced off. This was required for BSG Chemie Leipzig's 600 travelling supporters earlier in the season when a group of Stahl Riesa fans invaded the pitch and tried to attack them. The tinpot visitors on this occasion,  newly founded FC International Leipzig (actually hailing from an outside town called Schkeuditz) weren't required to be placed under such security measures. Their small smattering of followers (presumably friends and family of the players) freely cheered their solitary goal from nearby the away dugout, which was enough to keep them at the summit of the division.

I knew the game would be of absolutely dreadful quality from within 5 seconds of the game commencing; the visitors attempting to shoot from the halfway line upon kick off. And true to my sneering expectations, it was. The goal that won the contest, midway through the second half, came courtesy of a comically soft header that slowly trickled in off at the post. Truth be told it was probably a tad unwarranted on the home side, who competed and fought well with the league leaders, but having failed to take their few golden chances when they did arrive they inevitably ended up with nothing.

For those of you who like to claim that lower league football is puritanical and played by the burliest and most honest of men, FC International were extremely cynical on their course to grind out the three points, playacting and time wasting their way successfully to see out the contest. A BSG player was shown his marching orders late on for deciding to lamp one of the main culprits. I know it's wrong to justify violence, but maybe sometimes, well......

This was an extremely weird and odd little place. Maybe my initial encounter with that steward prompted my paranoia somewhat but I felt very much an outsider in the ground, very much as if i was being watched. Naturally I expect that don't get many unfamiliar faces creeping up in their habitat, but I certainly didn't feel much of a friendly or laidback vibe here. As I continued to drift off and venture into thought while the mind-numbing poorness that was taking place on the pitch, I did have to ponder why exactly I had abandoned a reasonable chunk of my day devoting to such lower league shitness, all while I only have a short period of time in one of the most compelling cities on the continent. "Why didn't I just go on that free walking tour I was booked to go on, like any normal or sane person would" I questioned to only my complex and nonsensical brain, wondering why football appears to still have such a stranglehold on me when, truth be told, my interest in the actual game itself is somewhat lacking.

Nonetheless, it was an interesting experience. The draught halleroder pilsener at €2.50 a go made it much less of a hardship, and the bratwurst I tucked into there was as pleasant as anywhere else I have experienced in the Weimar Republic. Amusingly, Riesa did boast a small group of ultra style support from the side. A handful of nonleague-esque oddballs with a few flags and a drum. They seldom actually bothered to sing, but when they did, it was what I imagine myself and my small band of mates sound like after a 8 pint ale session in Basingstoke.

As for Dresden itself, wow.......
I spent the best part of five hours in the morning just wandering around and exploring the city and it just "up there", completely joining the likes of Prague, Vienna and Krakow in terms of architectural beauty. When you're at the tip of the Altstadt you just repeat to yourself "wow" at every corner you turn, dazzled by its Baroque magnificence. It's hard to envisage that only in recent history the city was completely ruined and reduced to rubble. On some of the famous buildings you can see the effects of total war, but even the rebuilt ones such as the notorious Frauenkirche ('church of our lady') and it's opera hall have been restructured to retain so much character and elegance.

Other areas of the city are just as impressive. In the south of the town close to Dynamo's stadium there are picturesque, wide-open parks (including one of the oldest and biggest zoos in Germany + an electric steam train route going through it for reasonable admission). There's a carnival esque market in the old town square with hordes of sausage, steak and beer halls that are so lustful on senses like mine. And the new town, north of the river, is a livelier, youthful district with artistic buildings, plentiful bars, shops and clubs.

Quite honestly, I'm surprised how under the radar the city manages to go with tourists. It's now tied with Heidelberg as my favourite German city and I can't wait to revisit. When I do I'm sure I'll get to sample this notoriously mental atmosphere produced by the Dynamo K-Block. 

Yeah, I couldn't really get my head around the idea of ex-pat fans of this club either.

Ultra culture. 

Also startling was the presense of several HSV-Stahl Riesa 2CW flags.

Dulka Praha and Dynamo Dresden fighting over supremacy of this odd town.

Some of the pleasant scenery en route from the ground.