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FRIEDRICHSHAFEN, Germany — On Sun. July 13, I found myself preparing for an onslaught of extreme emotion. The occasion was an outdoor viewing of Germany

Impressions: Celebrating Victory

FRIEDRICHSHAFEN, Germany — On Sun. July 13, I found myself preparing for an onslaught of extreme emotion. The occasion was an outdoor viewing of ...

Jul 18, 2014

FRIEDRICHSHAFEN, Germany — On Sun. July 13, I found myself preparing for an onslaught of extreme emotion. The occasion was an outdoor viewing of Germany's match against Argentina in the Brazil 2014 World Cup final and the cause of the emotion was my location: the campus of the Technical University of Munich. Germany was gearing up for a magnificent night of celebrations, its hopes nourished by that distinctive fervour characterising the lead-up to a big sporting event. It is a unique combination of anticipation and positivity, tempered by an implicit awareness of everything that could go wrong, as well as a resignation to the fact that ultimately we are just bystanders, powerless in the mighty battle occurring many kilometers away.
This was perhaps the biggest of sporting events and these were perhaps the biggest of hopes. Boarding the metro at 9 a.m., it seemed that half the city was already clothed in white shirts and black shorts, the distinctive colors in which the German team plays. The city of Munich became, in essence, one enormous German team, right down to their matching outfits; during the hours leading up to the final, I saw no Argentine supporters at all — or at least none who were prepared to reveal themselves.
By 8.30 p.m., I was packed into a small outdoor viewing arena, along with about 200 other students. Everyone was drinking the ubiquitous Munich beer, crowded onto rickety benches designed to hold far fewer people than they were currently holding. The atmosphere in anticipation of the game was more excited than tense; the German flag and its colors — black, red, and yellow — were everywhere. At kick-off, the crowd gave a huge cheer, and settled down to watch. The next two and a half hours would decide the precise nature of the aforementioned emotional onslaught and for now, there was a palpable sense of positivity. Given the steady performance of the German team throughout the World Cup — as well as their admirable, perhaps painful, defeat of Brazil in the semi-finals — people had no reason not to be optimistic. Germany was certainly a solid contender for the Cup, an honor denied them since their 1990 win, also against Argentina.
Perhaps positively for my and everyone else's heart rates the match was not overly eventful until extra time. Both teams played a relatively controlled game, though the match was not without several close calls that had the entire crowd on their feet like a giant wave that rose and fell in tandem with consecutive opportunities and disappointments. The tensest moment by far, and the point of the wave's most extreme ebb, was Gonzalo Higuaín's disallowed goal in the first half. Lionel Messi's several opportunities to score also drew the crowd's collective breath, but many a shoulder sagged and mouth smiled in relief as the attempts were botched, one by one.
Mario Götze's glorious 113th-minute goal marked a transition for the German fans: from possibility to actuality. The 113 minutes of tied play represented the possibility of the German team’s success; this goal took the game into an entirely new sphere, where Germany was winning and Argentina had the possibility of catching up. They never did. All of a sudden the final whistle was blown and everyone was on their feet screaming, tensions melting away in the glowing warmth of success. A rousing rendition of Queen’s classic “We Are The Champions” was performed by the crowd around me and people danced and sang, delirious with happiness. Cars passed on the street behind us, every single one accessorized with German flags and shouting fans hanging out of their windows. It was unifying, intoxicating and utterly mad; I think I lost my voice a few minutes after the final whistle was blown.
The celebrations continued into the night with people flooding already-packed streets in an enormous, happy, drunken mass. The joy was infectious and impossible to avoid. There is no happiness, I realised, quite so easily accessible and so inescapable and pervasive as that which accompanies national victory. I’m proud of the German team, whom I pledged allegiance to early on in the tournament. They played a thorough, measured, and efficient World Cup. Their victory, however, warranted a polar opposite description of fans and team alike; following Sunday’s win, it would have been difficult to find a measured reaction to the final anywhere in the country.
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