‘No Scotland, no party’ – watching the Euro 2024 opener on the Berlin fan mile
By Tim Spiers
As the distinctive bassline of Seven Nation Army judders through the air, the overriding smell is of beer and meat.
Everyone is out to have a good time — people are singing, they hug strangers, they down drinks.
One man takes a toke on his rollie before exhaling another unmistakable smell. It’s cannabis. As he does so, a young guy walks around wearing a vacant expression and sunglasses. At night.
It this a festival, something akin to Glastonbury? No it’s Berlin’s fan mile. Welcome to the Euro 2024 party.
After a fallow decade since winning the 2014 World Cup — a decade in which Germanyhave reached a European Championshipsemi, lost to Englandin the last 16 and failed to make it out of two World Cup groups — there is not the buzz or the love around the national team that there has been in the past.
Is that reflected in the nature of the thousands gathering in Berlin to watch the Euro 2024 opener against Scotland? Perhaps, yes — after a muted start, the night will end in jubilant celebration.
Berlin is pitching itself as being the centre of the Euro party. It will host six matches including the final and has, like all the other host cities, a fan zone that will screen all 51 games, be open all 31 days of the tournament and have a programme of events including gigs, DJ sets and exhibitions. The Berlin fan zone is by the Reichstag government building.
But the piece de resistance in Berlin is the fan mile, which stretches as far as the eye can see behind the Brandenburg Gate all the way to the Victory Column.
At the top, behind the beautiful 18th-century monument, is a gigantic big screen, which sits inside what organisers are calling the largest football goal in the world. The goal weighs 40 tonnes, is 63 metres wide and stands 21 metres high (Chris Waddle’s Italia ’90 penalty would still clear the bar).
The fan mile, or Brandenburger Tor, has become a Berlin institution since the 2006 World Cup. It can house 30,000 at a starting point (plus 10,000 at the Reichstag fan zone) and can then stretch further down the road with thousands more depending on demand. Well, to be fair it’s not a road anymore as the whole thing has been covered in astroturf. Germany’s games will all be screened here, plus the quarters through to the final, with concerts and a summer cinema in between those big matchdays.
It’s a stunning setting to watch a football match — the looming trees of the surrounding Tiergarten on either side, the majesty of the historic Brandenburg Gate ahead of you, the grand, glistening gold of the Victory Column in the distance behind you.
As you head back from the big screen and the even bigger goal, there are four more big screens and dozens of food and alcohol stalls. There has also been a big focus on sustainability, such as the Astroturf that will be redistributed to local sports facilities, school playgrounds and a prison after the tournament.
This being Germany’s most cosmopolitan city, it’s an eclectic, diverse crowd with women and families, kids and the elderly. It’s not just a German sausage fest (but the currywurst is excellent).
While the vast majority are German, there are dozens of Spaniards and Croats (the two nations meet in Berlin on Saturday night), some French, a few English and lots and lots of Scots, most of them in kilts.
Continuing the festival vibe the beer is painfully expensive; €6 (£5; $6.40) for a half pint (9.6oz). The food is pure Bestival, with gnocchi, tofu salad and empanadas to go with the usual bratwurst and schnitzel. There’s even a quiet room if it all just gets too much. We’ve all been there.
“Put your hands in the air motherf***ers,” yelps a German DJ, who mixes The Prodigy, Fred Again and Justice, but with a techno beat that is genuinely quite offensive. The crowd aren’t fussed, not even when he drops in Freed from Desire, the football anthem for a generation.
They’ve got a Scot on stage now. He’s travelled from the Shetland Islands, it took him 24 hours. He predicts “zwei-eins” to Scotland and then leads his compatriots in the crowd to a chant of “no Scotland, no party”.
His prediction is way off, though. Instead, by the 30-minute mark, the Scots who have been singing for two hours are now in silence, heads bowed. To be fair, the Germans aren’t muchnoisier; it’s been a fairly subdued first half, even with the comfortable scoreline. There isn’t much singing, no one has smuggled any pyros in and the goal celebrations are pretty tepid with not even any (half) pints thrown. To be fair, that would be an expensive chuck.
Toni Krooswins the popularity vote with boisterous cheers whenever he is shown on one of the big screens, while the oversized speakers blare out German commentary from the TV coverage. The occasional familiar word or phrase sticks out sharply, like ‘tartan army’ or ‘Kilmarnock’.
The further back you stroll from the Brandenburg Gate and through the crowd, the more wasted they get, the more they will try and dance with you (The Athletichalf obliges).
There are some weird and wonderful sights, none more so than the extremely rare or perhaps even completely unique vision of Englishmen actively cheering on Germany. “Scotland get battered, everywhere they go,” they sing as they celebrate another Germany goal.
The “no Scotland, no party” chants are carrying less resonance when droned by one bloke who sounds at least eight pints deep.
At 3-0 down, one Scot who has definitely had too many is asked by his mate if he wants the rest of his pint. He drunkenly shakes his head — the ultimate indictment of a bad night for Scotland.
And then a goal.
“You’re shit and you know you are,” they sing to the Germans, who riposte with smiles. Annoying, isn’t it.
Order is restored with a late fifth and, after the full-time whistle, the German cheers just get louder and louder. Utter dominance and a resounding, showy victory is just how they like it.
As the two sets of fans join in unison to belt out The Proclaimers, it seems that somehow, everyone is happy.
And around the Victory Column, as they beep their car horns, wind down their windows and shout Deutschland as passers-by, you get the distinct impression that they think they’ll be doing this again on July 14.
‘No Scotland, no party’ – watching the Euro 2024 opener on the Berlin fan mile
By Tim Spiers
As the distinctive bassline of Seven Nation Army judders through the air, the overriding smell is of beer and meat.
Everyone is out to have a good time — people are singing, they hug strangers, they down drinks.
One man takes a toke on his rollie before exhaling another unmistakable smell. It’s cannabis. As he does so, a young guy walks around wearing a vacant expression and sunglasses. At night.
It this a festival, something akin to Glastonbury? No it’s Berlin’s fan mile. Welcome to the Euro 2024 party.
After a fallow decade since winning the 2014 World Cup — a decade in which Germanyhave reached a European Championshipsemi, lost to Englandin the last 16 and failed to make it out of two World Cup groups — there is not the buzz or the love around the national team that there has been in the past.
Is that reflected in the nature of the thousands gathering in Berlin to watch the Euro 2024 opener against Scotland? Perhaps, yes — after a muted start, the night will end in jubilant celebration.
Berlin is pitching itself as being the centre of the Euro party. It will host six matches including the final and has, like all the other host cities, a fan zone that will screen all 51 games, be open all 31 days of the tournament and have a programme of events including gigs, DJ sets and exhibitions. The Berlin fan zone is by the Reichstag government building.
But the piece de resistance in Berlin is the fan mile, which stretches as far as the eye can see behind the Brandenburg Gate all the way to the Victory Column.
At the top, behind the beautiful 18th-century monument, is a gigantic big screen, which sits inside what organisers are calling the largest football goal in the world. The goal weighs 40 tonnes, is 63 metres wide and stands 21 metres high (Chris Waddle’s Italia ’90 penalty would still clear the bar).
The fan mile, or Brandenburger Tor, has become a Berlin institution since the 2006 World Cup. It can house 30,000 at a starting point (plus 10,000 at the Reichstag fan zone) and can then stretch further down the road with thousands more depending on demand. Well, to be fair it’s not a road anymore as the whole thing has been covered in astroturf. Germany’s games will all be screened here, plus the quarters through to the final, with concerts and a summer cinema in between those big matchdays.
It’s a stunning setting to watch a football match — the looming trees of the surrounding Tiergarten on either side, the majesty of the historic Brandenburg Gate ahead of you, the grand, glistening gold of the Victory Column in the distance behind you.
As you head back from the big screen and the even bigger goal, there are four more big screens and dozens of food and alcohol stalls. There has also been a big focus on sustainability, such as the Astroturf that will be redistributed to local sports facilities, school playgrounds and a prison after the tournament.
This being Germany’s most cosmopolitan city, it’s an eclectic, diverse crowd with women and families, kids and the elderly. It’s not just a German sausage fest (but the currywurst is excellent).
While the vast majority are German, there are dozens of Spaniards and Croats (the two nations meet in Berlin on Saturday night), some French, a few English and lots and lots of Scots, most of them in kilts.
Continuing the festival vibe the beer is painfully expensive; €6 (£5; $6.40) for a half pint (9.6oz). The food is pure Bestival, with gnocchi, tofu salad and empanadas to go with the usual bratwurst and schnitzel. There’s even a quiet room if it all just gets too much. We’ve all been there.
“Put your hands in the air motherf***ers,” yelps a German DJ, who mixes The Prodigy, Fred Again and Justice, but with a techno beat that is genuinely quite offensive. The crowd aren’t fussed, not even when he drops in Freed from Desire, the football anthem for a generation.
They’ve got a Scot on stage now. He’s travelled from the Shetland Islands, it took him 24 hours. He predicts “zwei-eins” to Scotland and then leads his compatriots in the crowd to a chant of “no Scotland, no party”.
His prediction is way off, though. Instead, by the 30-minute mark, the Scots who have been singing for two hours are now in silence, heads bowed. To be fair, the Germans aren’t muchnoisier; it’s been a fairly subdued first half, even with the comfortable scoreline. There isn’t much singing, no one has smuggled any pyros in and the goal celebrations are pretty tepid with not even any (half) pints thrown. To be fair, that would be an expensive chuck.
Toni Krooswins the popularity vote with boisterous cheers whenever he is shown on one of the big screens, while the oversized speakers blare out German commentary from the TV coverage. The occasional familiar word or phrase sticks out sharply, like ‘tartan army’ or ‘Kilmarnock’.
The further back you stroll from the Brandenburg Gate and through the crowd, the more wasted they get, the more they will try and dance with you (The Athletichalf obliges).
There are some weird and wonderful sights, none more so than the extremely rare or perhaps even completely unique vision of Englishmen actively cheering on Germany. “Scotland get battered, everywhere they go,” they sing as they celebrate another Germany goal.
The “no Scotland, no party” chants are carrying less resonance when droned by one bloke who sounds at least eight pints deep.
At 3-0 down, one Scot who has definitely had too many is asked by his mate if he wants the rest of his pint. He drunkenly shakes his head — the ultimate indictment of a bad night for Scotland.
And then a goal.
“You’re shit and you know you are,” they sing to the Germans, who riposte with smiles. Annoying, isn’t it.
Order is restored with a late fifth and, after the full-time whistle, the German cheers just get louder and louder. Utter dominance and a resounding, showy victory is just how they like it.
As the two sets of fans join in unison to belt out The Proclaimers, it seems that somehow, everyone is happy.
And around the Victory Column, as they beep their car horns, wind down their windows and shout Deutschland as passers-by, you get the distinct impression that they think they’ll be doing this again on July 14.
