Suddenly, people in orange jerseys run off the sidewalks, trying to join the parade. An overdriven, blaring beat and a siren give an idea of why. The rows move closer together, arm in arm, bobbing with anticipation. And then it starts: “To the left!” – everyone hops to the left. “To the right!” – and everyone jumps back again. Then there’s no stopping them, everyone jumps up and down wildly, throwing their arms through the air. “Döp döp döp dö-dö-döp,” booms from the loudspeakers.
The Dutch have brought their party hit to Germany, it is the catchy tune of the European Championship. It is called, quite simply, Left Rightit was thought up by the group Snollebollekes. The song is so well-known that it is even played on the national holiday Koningsdag – once the jumping mass was even measurable on the seismograph in the Netherlands.
Wig, sunglasses, jacket: everything is allowed, as long as the outfit is “orange” at the end. © Simon Gerlinger for ZEIT ONLINE It’s not just the Scots who are wearing skirts at this European Championship. © Simon Gerlinger for ZEIT ONLINE
At this European Championship of good cheer, where fans from all over Europe celebrate a huge party in a different city every day, the Oranjes are bringing the biggest party to Germany. The videos of the party-goers in orange went viral. They danced and jumped in Leipzig and Hamburg. And now, on this Tuesday in Berlin, where even the 2:3 defeat against Austria won’t stop the party.
A few hours before the big hopping, around twelve o’clock, orange-clad people stream onto Hammarskjöldplatz, the square in front of the Berlin trade fair building. Now the street in front of the square is still manageable. At least somewhat. A person in a lion costume walks past, several women in Dutch traditional costumes, later you see Santa Claus (or Saint Nicholas) and above all: hundreds of people in shorts and orange jerseys. The dominant smell: sunscreen that is quickly smeared on.
The combined Refrain geht übrigens thus: “To the left! To the right! One more time! To the left! To the right! Oh, what a party! Come on, come on, come on, come on! Let’s go for another round? Have fun! ” © Simon Gerlinger for ZEIT ONLINE
A taxi stops, and from the open door you can hear pounding beats and Dutch singing. Four men in construction vests with mullet wigs get out in good spirits, one of them, Nard, is walking on crutches. Their style is reminiscent of the Dutch comedy series New Kids
recreated.
© ZEIT ONLINE
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The four of them say that they play football together, for SV Rivierwijkers from Utrecht. Nard says, “our club is almost as good as Ajax Amsterdam,” the Dutch record champions. On the Internet, you can find the website of an amateur team in the lower leagues. Nard plays for the club in position ten, playmaker, but he has been suffering from a knee injury, his cruciate ligament, for some time. They will still party until late at night. “If the next game is in western Germany, we’ll be happy to come back spontaneously,” says Nard.
For many people from the countries taking part in the European Football Championship, Germany is conveniently located; the direct neighbouring countries alone make up a third of the qualified teams. Many of the Dutch fans say they came to Berlin for a few days. Others travelled through Germany with their national team for several games; they say it went well between Hamburg, Leipzig and the capital.
Thomas Post, Boudewijn Pastoor, Nard van Vrijaldenhoven and Luuk Biemans © Simon Gerlinger for ZEIT ONLINE
Outside, in front of the entrance to the fan zone, people are gathering in the shade. They are drinking the beer they have brought with them, which they are not allowed to take inside. A group in Germany jerseys is also there to experience the atmosphere of the Netherlands party. A closer look at the fans from the Netherlands. Jumping, studies have shown (PDF), puts you in a good mood. And apparently the jumping Oranjes also attract other fans. The Germans joke that the fan march from here to the Olympic Stadium is only three kilometers long, shorter than others, because the Dutch with their jumping to the left, to the right
yes, run in zigzags.
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Inside, an entertainer calls everyone to the front. A fan says he needs more beer. Then the Dutch jump for the first time to warm up. The soundtrack to this: Left Right
by Snollebollekes.
A father and his son in their late teens stand with others around a circle of beer mugs (eight euros each, including a two euro deposit and Dutch confusion about German mug logistics). The father, Wesley, installs air conditioning, the company sponsors the European Championship and Wesley’s tickets. He is not a football fan, but a fan of fan culture. He says: “In the Netherlands, we are not united by politics, but by fun!”
They were already in St. Pauli on Sunday morning at this European Championship, they marched through Leipzig, and now to the grounds of the Berlin trade fair. © Simon Gerlinger for ZEIT ONLINE
Up a flight of stairs and a few meters further on at the balustrade, Hennie watches over the partygoers. Hennie is 71, so he can’t hop along so well anymore, he says. And he doesn’t have to anymore.
Every national team would love to have a fan like Hennie. He wears a jacket with patches from various tournaments and countries, “Türkiye”, “France 98”, “South Africa 2010” and so on. Each patch has the story of a tournament or international match he was in. Below is a jersey from former national player Kevin Strootman, signed by hand. In total, Hennie says, he has played in over 260 international matches. “Everyone here is one family. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a PSV or Ajax fan. Today, only Oranje counts.” There is just one problem: the beer line is very long. With that, he says goodbye and gets another beer.
The European Championship in Germany is not Hennie’s first tournament. © Simon Gerlinger for ZEIT ONLINE
A short time later, in the early afternoon, thousands of fans gather on the street behind an orange double-decker. The upcoming fan walk is supposed to take them from the exhibition center through Berlin’s Westend to the Olympic Stadium. A collective unrest spreads. Faces red from the beer and the sun start chanting. It smells like a large pack of burning matches, several people have lit smoke bombs. Across the street in front of the radio tower, a security guard rushes over and chases away a man in a jersey who wants to relieve himself quickly on a hedge. “That doesn’t have to happen!” It wasn’t the first today. Probably not the last either.
From further ahead, a message echoes through the loudspeakers in English: “For your safety, please stay away from the fan bus! The march is about to start.”
Then it starts. With “Vivaaa Hollandia” and carnival spirit, the Dutch leave the exhibition grounds, including Hennie, Wesley and Nard’s group. The police later say there were 20,000 people. In the middle of the parade, it feels as if at least half of the Netherlands is in Berlin.
The Orange Train hasn’t been on the road for long and the first people need refreshment. A cold Aldi with its relatively cheap beer comes in handy. However, the rumor soon spreads that there is no more beer. A brief disappointment, but never mind, we carry on!
What do you call this Dutch-Bavarian crossover? © Christoph Niemann for ZEIT ONLINE
A few meters away, two older women are smoking and in good spirits, watching the fan parade. Petra and Liane are sisters. Crazy sight, isn’t it? “Oh, we know it,” says Liane. They have experience with football fans, Hertha often marches from the trade fair to the Olympic Stadium. “But the Dutch are particularly nice.” On the balconies in Preußenallee, the residents become spontaneous capos, cheerleaders, one Mexican wave after another is heard.
On the home stretch to the Olympic Stadium, a contrast emerges between the different groups of fans. Some people in Austrian red and white are standing on the sidewalk next to the parade. Then Dutch people, singing in good spirits, swarm towards them and cover the Austrian coat of arms with orange stickers. “Good luck, have a good show,” they wish. The Austrians can’t help but smile. Aren’t the Dutch particularly friendly? “They’re shit.” The game will probably improve their mood.
Just before the Olympic Stadium, ecstasy once again, jumping arm in arm once more, to the left, to the rights. Then another announcement. Everyone with tickets please continue straight ahead. The rest of us head, sweaty but happy, to the subway station. To the right.
If you just want to look at happy faces for a few hours, the best thing to do is join the Dutch fan train. © Simon Gerlinger for ZEIT ONLINE
