Saturday, Jun. 17, 2006

Party People

By ANDREW PURVIS

Angela Merkel's face said it all. Never the most demonstrative of politicians, and no football fanatic, the German Chancellor often looked uncomfortable as she dutifully took in the early World Cup games. But last Wednesday was different. Germany was playing its second game of the tournament, against Poland. The team needed to win to be assured of a place in the knockout phase of the competition. In the final minutes, with the score 0-0, the ball thumped twice in a matter of seconds off the Polish crossbar. Merkel leapt from her seat, waving her arms to her neighbors (including Polish President Lech Kaczynski), eyes alight, grinning from ear to ear. "Jaaa!" she shouted. Seconds later, in injury time, Germany scored. The win, Merkel would say later, was "a big relief."

Not just for her. Germany had been suffering for months in the buildup to the tournament, worried not just about its untested football team but also about hooligans, neo-Nazis and reports of no-go areas for foreigners — and about how Germans would perform as hosts off the pitch. Some had begun to wonder whether it was all going to be worth it. With Wednesday's game, the verdict came in. The greatest sporting festival on earth was living up to its name. For millions of visitors, the fine weather, sparkling stadiums and chilled Pilsner are proving a delight. For Germans, it is intoxicating. jawollski! read the headline in Bild, the daily tabloid, punning on the German word for yes after the victory over Poland. "Berlin here we come!" chanted fans after the match.

Germany is witnessing an outpouring of national feeling unlike anything it has seen for years. Not long ago, flying the German flag was frowned upon, because of dark historical overtones. These days, it's become a requirement. Black, red and gold are everywhere: slung from apartment windows, fluttering behind Mercedeses and Volkswagens, draped over restaurant tables, daubed on babies' cheeks, woven into bikinis. Never mind the j350 tickets — who needs to actually attend a match? All of Germany has become one big football stadium. Every restaurant and beer garden and office has set up an outdoor screen. Bakeries are selling "Klinsi" bread in honor of the team's coach, Jürgen Klinsmann. Concerts by Angolan singers and Brazilian dancers keep the streets packed well after the final whistle blows. The Brazilian yellow and green have become second only to Germany's colors in Berlin, where samba bars stay open late into the night and younger fans are backing the dream team from South America. "I am supporting Brazil," says Brandenburg native Burim Celek, 21, hoisting a beer in Berlin's Tiergarten. And if Germany plays Brazil in the final? "Well, perhaps I would have my German flag ... but it is hard to decide."

The fan violence that some feared would spoil the festivities has not materialized, though German police in riot gear arrested some 220 suspected hooligans and held them "preventively" before the Germany-Poland match. The lesson of Germany's enthralling win in Dortmund is this: speed kills. Klinsmann certainly left those critical of his coaching style — and that included just about everyone at some point — as empty-handed as Poland's team. The California-based coach had been harshly criticized for his bicontinental lifestyle, and for reshaping the German strategy to attack more aggressively, rather than the patient approach that has marked this country's play for decades. Now, however, he has won over his critics — it's hard to find a German who has anything bad to say about him for the moment. How long the mood will last is unclear. But Merkel is already citing the German victory as a parable for politics in Germany, showing how true strength can be found, she says, in staying calm. She may become a fan yet.