Our European Championship column “I love football, but…” is only deadly serious and razor-sharp analytical when it has to be. We are looking forward to the European Championship at home and the stories it has to offer in the coming weeks.
On Saturday, Germany plays against Denmark. And I don’t even know who I’m rooting for yet. Before the round of 16 of the European Championship, everyone is talking about the great triumph of the little neighbor at the 1992 European Championship. At that time, Danebrogs were flying everywhere in northern Schleswig-Holstein, on houses, in front of schools, fountains and on masts. That was at a time when there was still a fixed border that ran through old Schleswig.
The Danish minority was more visible than ever before. It would be difficult to find a South Schleswiger over the age of 40 who does not have great anecdotes to remember this miraculous night of June 26, 1992. Everyone here was probably cheering when the reigning world champions suffered a historic defeat against a supposed “holiday troop” from Denmark. Then, as now, Schmeichel stood in the Danish goal.
Different times, new problems with the jersey colour
If you watch football together today in the Danish minority, you won’t be looked at with suspicion even if you’re wearing a pink Germany jersey. You can choose your opinion. You had to do that in the border referendum of 1920 too. In contrast to the complicated European elections, there were blunt ballot papers that said either “Germany” or “Denmark”. There was no compromise between the flags. And when it comes to football, you can hardly be indifferent – that’s just the way it is. And it’s still complicated!
In the group phase, as a Schleswig-Holsteiner, you could have hoped for a draw in this match. But now that is no longer possible. The decision here is not really easy. As a native Schleswig-Holsteiner with Danish influences, I still have no idea who my heart belongs to and whose jersey I am wearing.
Change your jersey during the game?
Who means more to me, who do I like more? Who do I envy more? It’s a tough question, sometimes even after kick-off. That also applies to my children, who are growing up in Danish culture, which never means that they are pro-Denmark when it comes to playing against Germany.
After 15 minutes of these “Schleswig-Holstein derbies” I usually know who I’m really rooting for. However, it could also get to the point where I’m rooting for Germany until the penalty shootout, but then I switch to supporting the Danish underdog while wearing the German jersey.
It could be a duel that I won and suddenly, without thinking, I clench my fist for the winner. It could also happen during the national anthem, when the Germans are not keeping time and the Danes are burning with love and passion. But it could also be that I simply give in to the general enthusiasm and don’t think too much.
