At 6:31 a.m. in the morning the first can of apple wine and cola hissed after opening the opening. Cheers and up the cups! Off to Munich with the FC Bayern fan bus!

Almost 3 weeks and different plastic clarification events before, I saw myself still in the CC of a complaint enamel, which was addressed by Löön to the Kelterei Krämer, with which we complained the deposit-free Bembel-with-Care aluminum cans, which we had found to hundreds in the beautiful nature of the lovely Lahn Dill mountain country. In the context of this landscape cleaning action we had excited ourselves vehemently over manufacturers and consumers of this canned product and had learned finally from the Kelterei Krämer that canned deposit on wine-containing products with a wine content of over 50% is not intended by the legislator. Why, why and why no humans know, but political regulations are not comprehensible now times for the simple people.

And thus there was for us plastic rebels only one only possibility of the protest: Boykottierung of pfandlosen doses!

All this seemed to be forgotten when I boarded the bus in Herborn on Saturday mornings and placed myself next to the Kreisligalegenden from Guntersdorf, Gusternhain and neighbouring communities. For the greeting Marc handed me the welcome cover “Dreierlei”, consisting of a “Hellen”, a bottle Radler and the can product already mentioned above. “Well bravo,” I thought to myself. “Löön must never know about that! When “Schobbe-Ingo” finally arrived in the bus at 6:05 a.m., the trip to Munich for the game against Werder Bremen could start. Only half an hour later the first “Hellen” had already been emptied and they already agreed to “FC Bayern forever Number one” with hissing harp tins. “How am I supposed to hold out for the next 6 hours?” I thought to myself, but in the end I saw it as sporting, as preparation for the upcoming Malle-Trip. With the final opponents Marie, Steffi, Saskia and Janina, it had to be finally taken up during the team trip in June.

We hadn’t covered 15 kilometres yet, when the bus stopped in the middle of the motorway to fork up “Leitplanken-Dieter” somewhere between Ehringshausen and Wetzlar. “That’s been going on for 15 years,” Marc explained to me, “It always works.” Shaking my head I had meanwhile exchanged myself with Mareike, one of three women on board the bus. “That’ll be exhausting with the boys afterwards.” she informed me. “Oh really? I replied and at the same moment the men sang songs like “Who will be the German champion? Borussia BVB” and “Scheiss Werder Bremen”.

After the first rest Marc asked me if I also had my Print-at-Home tickets with me, to which I only replied “in which century we would live this century” and that of course I didn’t have them in analogue form. “Think before you print” “Save the trees” – just to mention a few catchwords. Marc looked at me in amazement and reassured himself: “Don’t you really have the print-at-home tickets with you now? I sent them to you by mail.” And I laughed at first, thought he just wanted to shock me until we both realized that we were both serious about it. In my SPAM folder I finally discovered the mail from “Euro-Dietrich”, which did not include a digital form of the stadium ticket, as it had been the case for tickets for flights, buses, trains and concerts for years. “That’s really not true now! How backward is this Bavarian?”

Fortunately my cousin Michi was supposed to join us in Munich and I sent him on-demand the request to print the tickets “at home”. He also had to go through several floors of his house until he met a roommate who still had a printer.

At the second resting place I was struck by the hitherto unknown reality of a Bundesliga weekend. Football mass tourism on Germany’s motorways and pure rest stops! We didn’t even stand in a traffic jam during the whole outward and return journey, but without exception we met corresponding fan buses. As if the entire motorway had only been reserved for Bundesliga traffic. Unbelievable!

After feeling twenty crates of beer and tins we reached the stadium in bright sunny weather at 12:30 pm and stopped for more drinks at the insider meeting “Südkurve – unsere Kurve unser Leben”. “Schobbe-Ingo” had already managed at this point to neither go forwards nor backwards and was no longer able to hold his bottle of Augustiner in a horizontal position, which is why he had to be bedded on the nearby Wiesn’ before the start of the game. Meanwhile, my cousin had also found us at the wagon of the leftist Ultras, the Munich Schickeria, and handed over the print-at-home tickets at the last second.

A little later we found ourselves in the South Curve, the stadium with a capacity of 75,000 people. With megaphone, flags and drumbeats the ultrafans, among whom we were now, were fully heated up and animated to fan chants. A mad mood! With “Von der Elbe bis zur Isar”, “Wir wollen die Bayern siegen sehn” and “FC Bayern, lala lalala lala” we learnt new, atmospheric songs, while the first half ran out before us, but due to the overwhelming flag culture we got nothing to see. This was not tragic at this time, nothing worth seeing came about on the pitch, so that the scoreboard only became interesting when the result service once again reported a goal in Augsburg, which happened about every 5 minutes.

In half two we changed from the south curve into block 117, in which we got to see the game now very closely. It remained goalless, the Bavarians missed every imaginable, one hundred percent goal chance through questionable, repeatedly laying on pass game in the sixteenth of the opponent, as if the goal of the game was not goal-shooting, but the ball in the game. But at least the inner defender of the Bayern (Niklas Süle, number 4 :-)) took a heart at some point and provided for the redeeming 1-0, in order to still be able to get involved in the fight for the championship. As we learned later, “Schobbe-Ingo” had also interfered with the spectators again in the meantime and followed the winning goal at least via TV screen in the Paulaner-Treff. Otherwise, I would have bought the beautiful, wine red T-shirt with white writing “Diffidate con noi” afterwards.

At 18 o’clock we almost completely clattered back home. Only “Leitband-Dieter” had roped down from us and activated the faster Bring-Home-Service “Bla bla Car”. Another 6 hours drive back in the alcoholized, fragrant fan bus were waiting for the rest of us. I couldn’t have gotten a better Malle training. After we had come back to the Würzburg rest stop around 9.30 pm, I met my can friend, the Bembel, one last time. He had always stayed close to me the whole time, never left my side, to remind me again and again that plastic fasting and can opponents are no solution either. I had felt him almost sympathetic and also almost tasty, when he struck at 21:48 o’clock behind my back, when I wanted to find my seat again. It clattered briefly and the almost full, already opened can emptied stickily over my knees and the floor. Thank you for nothing Bembel! Forever deleted from my household! #bembelwithnocare

It was nice in Munich anyway. And such a bus ride in the Fanmobil one must have made as a real Kreisligafußballer(in) times. Just like this Malle, *group pressure* is a compulsory event, despite all sustainability concerns, part of life!

@Marc: When do we fly to the Champions League? ;-))


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