From 90min.de the author Guido Müller
A few weeks ago, the six-year-old son of a good friend of mine looked at me as if I had just turned up his whole – albeit short-lived – worldview. Shortly before, he ran enthusiastically for a football in the garden and tried to juggle it with his right foot. His father warned that he would use both feet, otherwise he will never have a professional career. Advice is ignored.
Then the son stood a little breathless in front of me and almost shyly asked if he could ask me something that obviously touched him.
“Of course!” I said. “Tell me!”
“Do you think we can become European champions?”
And while these words said, an insecurity flew over his childish face. Almost as if he felt he was asking an inappropriate, for really self-evident question. Like asking if he could smear honey in his hair or something so ridiculous.
“Of course we can,” I replied. But the fold of skepticism just above the base of his nose (like his father’s, I thought) told me he did not believe me.
Euro 96 was Europe’s talks / Ben Radford / Getty Images
And then I started talking. About my journey into an uncertain but highly anticipated future. About my arrival in a country other than the one I was born in. And of a tournament where Germany was not considered among the favorites.
When the tenth European Championship started on June 10, 1996 at Wembley Stadium, I had only lived in Madrid for four months.
Because of my love for a Spaniard, I decided to take this important step at the age of 23. I should never regret it for the next twenty-eight years. Even years later, and despite the sacramental sealing of marriage, the relationship went up. But it’s for another time.
With wise foresight, I had planned the first part of my annual holiday so that I could watch as many European Championship games as possible. Of course, watching a big tournament completely outside my home country for the first time was a dramatic experience. Like the fact that my new living environment caused a shift in focus.
There was a lot of hype about Croatia entering Euro 96 / Simon Bruty / Getty Images
Sure, in Spain people were talking about “selección”, about “furia roja”, about the top favorites in the tournament. The Netherlands, France and England (as hosts) were named. Even Croatia was liked because some of their players made their trade in La Liga – Robert Jarni at Real Betis, Robert Prosinecky at Barcelona, Davor Suker at Sevilla.
Spaniards – fans and media – did not think of their own team as favorites. Their national team had disappointed too often or fell into uncontrollable turns of fate.
These can sometimes be quite physical – like Mauro Tassotti’s elbow against Luis Enrique in the quarterfinals of the World Cup in the USA two years earlier.
Marca’s front page: Spain’s Luis Enrique is bleeding after an elbow from Italy’s Tassotti in the 1994 World Cup! pic.twitter.com/XU4RMAuZ
– Fouad Albastaki (@FouadAlBastaki) June 18, 2012
The images of the bloodied face of the current Spanish national coach had burned into the Spaniards’ collective memory – and fit wonderfully with the football version of the eternal Via Crucis, to which football on the Iberian Peninsula, at least national team level, was obviously condemned.
And so Euro 96 for me took place mainly between my living room (basically the whole apartment) and my partner’s parents’ house.
But from the quarter-finals – after Spain was eliminated by England on penalties – the air was noticeably different in the football-soaked country. Only the most intrepid fans in the country followed the action during the rest of the tournament.
However, my future father-in-law did not want anything to do with Euro 96 after Fernando Hierro’s penalty hit the crossbar and Miguel Nadal’s effort was saved by David Seaman. After consulting the family, I decided to watch the final within my own four walls, where I have already seen Germany succeed where Spain failed to conquer England on penalties.
England was eliminated by Germany / Ross Kinnaird / Getty Images
My friend, who had little football affinity, made a good face for the bad game – and saw.
So on June 30, 1996, I was thousands of miles away from the feverish tension and passionate atmosphere of my native Hamburg, where I would have been surrounded by other sufferers.
And while the Czechs and Germans, who had crossed paths at the beginning of the tournament during the group stage, were fighting for the crown on the continent, I remembered the final four years earlier.
I followed the first part of Euro 92 in Hamburg, another on a train journey with two friends all over Europe and the last part in my parents’ holiday home on the Costa del Sol.
I saw the final, which we lost 2-0 to underdogs from Denmark, with half a dozen Andalusians who were happy that the Danes had defeated the Germans.
It was a hard fought final / BORIS HORVAT / Getty Images
Four years later, the Czechs made an illegal punishment after Matthias Sammer dropped Karel Poborsky outside the box. The Italian judge thought it was in, and I felt I had gone back in time.
Could the 1990 World Cup be the only title I could celebrate in my life? Half an hour before the last whistle at Wembley, it really looked like.
Sometime during the broadcast from London, the Spanish reporter spoke to the newly created rule about gold goals.
And as I explained to my dearest friend what this innovation was all about, I saw out of the corner of my eye that a certain Oliver Bierhoff had been produced for Mehmet Scholl.
Like most fans in front of the screens in Germany, I could not believe it. ‘Why is he taking him now?’
Bierhoff proved everyone wrong / Stu Forster / Getty Images
After all, Scholl seemed very inspired that day. The Spanish commentator even dared to talk about a wrong decision by Berti Vogts. Hardly anyone in Spain knew who Bierhoff was.
But before I had completely weighed all the pros and cons for this strange change, Germany got a free kick on the right side.
Christian Ziege struck it with his left foot towards the goal. It just kept going and going and landing and finally landing directly on the head of – of course – Bierhoff.
We had more time to complete the comeback, which given the situation twenty minutes earlier, was more than a German fan dared to hope for.
Back when ?????? ????? was one thing, Oliver Bierhoff pulled this winner to Germany in the Euro 96 final! ??
Goalkeepers around the world, look away. ? pic.twitter.com/O1wSoRkIj9
– 90min (@ 90min_Football) 23 June 2021
And now the golden goal became interesting again. My friend still did not understand how it worked.
“So you have to go into extra time … what if a goal is scored?”
“The game’s over!”
“And if not?”
“There is a penalty design!”
I was just about to give well-known examples from other sports when I realized that the Spaniards understand as much about ice hockey as the Germans do with camel races in the desert.
But it did not matter, because everything was explained anyway.
Just five minutes after the restart, Bierhoff returned to the ball at the edge of the Czech penalty area.
Somehow, he managed to turn around his opponent Karel Rada, who was far too passive and got a clear shot in goal.
Bierhoff’s shot flew with a little force and quite centrally towards the Czech goalkeeper Petr Kouba. My brain had already disconnected from the thing – Kouba would save it with ease.
But suddenly the ball jumped out of Kouba’s hand and flew towards the net. He hurried quickly towards the line, but it was too late.
?? EURO 1996?
Oliver Bierhoff’s two goals inspired Germany to EURO ’96 glory when they came from behind to beat the Czech Republic 2-1 in overtime #OTD! @DFB_Team | @DFB_Team_EN pic.twitter.com/WSYNzR2Sfj
– UEFA EURO 2020 (@ EURO2020) 30 June 2020
Today I do not know which came first. Whether it was the reporter’s call that the game was now decided after this “gol de oro”, or my joy that a German team decimated with ten injuries in a 23-man group had won the final.
At least I did not go down without explaining myself first.
