Austria Salzburg-Kuchl, SFV Cup: the victory of the rediscovered balance

After a whole season spent traveling around Austria following many high-level matches, I can’t wait to see the final of the SFV-Cup, a regional cup of the Salzburg federation, more or less comparable to the Serie C cup. This trophy conceived in 1926, has known several suspensions during its existence, for the most varied reasons. The longest time without the competition, around 50 years, was after the Second World War, until it was finally revived again from 2004, with the additional incentive of qualifying for the first round of the ÖFB-Cup, the national cup greater, reserved for the winner.

Austria Salzburg, which I had already seen in the exciting match in Graz a few months ago, has, together with its loyal fans, all the motivation to reach its sixth cup, already won by the “old” Austria in 1937 and 1959 and then new, after the re-foundation, three times in a row from 2012 to 2014. On the other hand, the affirmation of the Viola’s B team in this same cup in 2005 was sensational.

After a terrible journey (queues everywhere for the start of the holidays, a road accident resulting in the closure of the motorway, detours and blocked traffic: in the end it will take me 4 hours for a journey of less than 200 km) I arrive with just under half an hour before the kick-off in Eugendorf, a small village near the city of Salzburg, chosen by the SFV federation to host the final. Cars are parked all over the village, so do I and hurry to the entrance.

The small structure is almost packed. Officially the number of spectators is indicated at 1,100 units, but to tell the truth there are visibly many more. The Viola fans are placed in the only grandstand, behind a single banner with the wording “Austria Salzburg”, for all the cup matches, in fact, the Curva Viola has decided to cheer with a more dry style, almost English if you will, with choruses more adapted to what happens on the pitch and without choreography or group banners. With the help of the roof and thanks to the compactness of the sector, they manage to make themselves heard in an excellent way: loud choruses, beautifully executed clapping and a few flags always offered in the wind. Kuchl’s supporters (who don’t have an organized fan base but only “normal” fans plus the players’ relatives) are seated on the opposite side of the grandstand.

The purple team plays an excellent match. Even when the opponents somewhat surprisingly score the first goal, they largely dominate the events on the pitch and tilt them in their favor. In the end, the electronic scoreboard shows the result of 3-2 for Salzburg, which is equivalent to the coveted ticket for the first round of the ÖFB Cup next season.

At the final whistle many torches are then lit to celebrate the first official title after the promotion to professional football in 2015. And even when the team raises the cup in front of the hot sector of purple cheering, the victory chants are accompanied by yet more torches and smoke bombs. The synergy between the team and the fans reaches its climax when the trophy is brought to the stands to be lifted by the ultras. A very high symbolic moment but equally deserved for the sacrifices they have made in all these years.

I leave the small sports field completely satisfied. While I’m looking for my car, I think back to the many matches in Austria that I could still attend this season which is drawing to a close: major derbies in anticipation in Graz and Vienna but also regional matches, in the minor leagues with fans that deserve far more stages, just like Austria Salzburg today, all then always in a unique atmosphere. One can only hope that Austria will be able to maintain this balance without exasperating spirits with those same highly repressive policies or the same wild commercialization of football which in the recent past has perhaps brought some privileged individuals to a higher level, but with this cannibalization ended up lowering the competitiveness of the rest of Austrian football. And with it also mortify his typhus.

Jürgen De Meester