Unioner versus Herthaer: What football stickers reveal about Berlin

As a proofreader at the Berliner Zeitung on weekends, I read every single article in every issue as part of my job. This includes, of necessity, the football section, which I would skip over in my personal life, because I'm not interested in football. Neither the men's nor the women's, neither the clubs nor the national teams.

From countless articles, especially those of my esteemed colleague Andreas Baingo , I learned a lot about both football texts and football fans.

1. Football texts contain synonyms on an epic scale. No article about Union Berlin without "Die Eisernen" (The Iron Ones), "Die Köpenicker" (The Köpenickers), "Das Ballhaus des Ostens" (The Ballhaus of the East), "Die Rot-Weißen" (The Red-Whites), "Die Truppe Baumgart" (Coach Baumgart's squad), "Die Jungs um Kapitän Trimmel" (Captain Trimmel's lads); Hertha inevitably features "Die Alte Dame" (The Old Lady) at least once. Now, the rule of good style usually goes like this: A dog is a dog is a dog. Not man's best friend, not a loyal four-legged friend, not a furry friend, and certainly not a doggie. Only in football – metaphors, synonyms, insider phrases, phrases: After the game is before the game, the round thing has to go into the square thing, the ball is round, and a game lasts 90 minutes. Do football readers need it that way?

2. For football fans, there can only ever be one. Opera lovers enjoy performances at the State Opera as well as the Deutsche Oper. Those seeking excess can tear their brains apart at Berghain and the KitKatClub. The football fan, assuming there is such a thing as a football fan, who goes to Union Berlin and Hertha Berlin games as the mood takes them, is living dangerously. Why is a city with several football clubs not a paradise, but a war zone?

A nice side effect of my work as a proofreader: I can even have sensible conversations with football fans. Perhaps it was my solid, half-knowledge that led to the following situation one night at the pub: As I excused myself and got up to attend to something, a self-proclaimed Union Berlin supporter placed a red and white sticker on the table in front of me with a meaningful look. I understood: He expected me to put it in the women's restroom. I took the sticker and examined the toilet door from the inside: sayings, phone numbers, declarations of love, stickers about emancipation, queerness, parties. Football wasn't a topic in this restroom. I put the sticker away and decided to first get a more comprehensive overview of the sticker situation.

The next day, I walked 331 meters on my street from one street corner to the next and counted all the football stickers. They were stuck on lampposts, traffic signs, downpipes, parking meters, everywhere, up to 13 stacked, Union fans usually on top. I counted 545, and I'm sure I missed a few. I noticed that Hertha fans stick them higher, while Union fans, on the other hand, astonish with more diverse statements: My head is a football, the Ultra Youth announces; all police officers are illegitimate, another fan group informs. I was stunned. A sticker density of 1.65 per meter and side of the street, on Berlin's 5,342-kilometer public road network, that's 17,628,600 stickers! Football fans live by their sayings: After the sticking is before the sticking, the sticker is round and 90 fit on a downpipe, the round one has to go on the square one.

This brings me back to the dog. When Bello is walking his old lady and marking his territory, the next furry friend walks by with his owner and scents exactly the same spot. It's roughly the same with stickers. Only it's male humans who are marking here. Suppose a Union fan is overcome by an urgent need on the way home from the Alte Försterei (Old Forester's Office). The wall in front of the toilet at the Ballhaus des Ostens (Ballhouse of the East) had stood solid, making it impossible to get through, so he stands off to the sidelines by a fence. But as soon as he starts walking, a Hertha fan rushes over, stands right next to him and pees in exactly the same spot. That would be extremely strange, wouldn't it? In situations like this, people are supposed to keep a polite distance. Why not with stickers?

So, lost in thought, I spotted a ping-pong table with a single, freshly affixed Hertha sticker. I knew what to do. I knelt down and affixed the Union Berlin sticker at a respectful distance. Both stickers began to glow, a golden beam of energy flickered between them. They detached themselves from the table tennis table and floated toward the sky, from which a roar arose. Nearby, a thorn bush burst into flames, and a voice sang, "Joy, beautiful spark of the gods," and another, "All men become brothers," and a third added, "...and sisters!"

From that moment on, Berlin football fans no longer behaved like man's best friends, but truly like human beings. They realized that Berlin is our common territory and therefore big enough for all clubs – and since then, they have treated each other with tolerance and love.