We all need a little bit of excitement, and last night, I got just that. No, not that. It’s been the European Championships. The what? FOOTBALL!
Alright, I’m faking it. The excitement I mean. All I know about it is that it involves a ball, some random kicking and reduces grown men into squealing children. Oh, and David Beckham in his underwear.
A few nights ago was the Turkey vs. Croatia game. I live in one of the biggest Turkish districts in Berlin and if the cheers, yells and honking hasn’t alerted me to the winner, the mini-fireworks certainly made it clear who had won. Though politically brushing aside any old grudges, football has become the arena for accepted name calling, cultural stereotypes and where “new” power structures can be discussed. In essence, the luminous glow of the manicured fields is the battleground for old wounds to be reopened and fresh ones brought to light.