Each month we’re sending our abhorrent Eurosceptic correspondent to a scout a different league on the continent, and asking him to fashion the stream of liquid excrement that spews forth from his word-hole into something resembling a report. This month, it’s the Bundesliga. Sorry, lads.
“ Five Eurovisions and one World Cup, doo dar, doo dar. Haha. Here I am in the land of the Deutsch, and I’ve just found an Alternative for Germany, which has been a great start to this trip. I’ve already made the most of my visit, taking in Hitler’s bunker (it’s just a car park, but it does have extremely reasonable hourly rates), having a look round Hitler’s war room, laying flowers at Hitler’s mausoleum, strolling round the Hitler memorial, writing a note in Hitler’s guestbook, as well as finding anyone with the surname Hitler and passing on my condolences. I’ve see the famous ‘Fog on the Rhine’, but I’ve stayed clear of the local sausages. To be honest I’ve developed a bit of a phobia. Still, lashings of beer to get down my gullet, and I even went to visit Chancellor Merkel for an afternoon tea – I brought my own naturally. But now the fun must stop, and I have to get down to the serious business of surveying some fussball teams.
Title Contenders
And where better to start than the home of yeast, hops and barley. The scene of the most famous celebration to the amber nectar in all of Europe - The Beer Hall Putsch. Yes it’s Munich of course, home of Bayern Munchen. The big boys of Germany. They’ve been running around whipping the bare arses of their pathetic competitors for the past five years, but sometimes its nice to let someone else have a go with the towel. It seems things haven’t gone too well so far for the mighty Munch, and they’ve had to give the Italian manager the old heave-ho. Was he pushed or did he surrender? I know which one my money’s on. They’ve brought in an old boy called Jupp which is rather jolly. Also looks like he runs a fetish shop which for me is a plus point. Plenty of purebloods in this team, as well as a Pole and a couple of Austrians who may as well be German anyway. I like the boy Muller, reminds me of myself when I was his age – absolutely no natural talent in my field of expertise, but against all odds and to the ongoing astonishment of everyone else I still managed to carve out a career. How else did I become an MEP if not by spending every working hour gurning into cameras and shouting nonsense? Looks like the keeper’s out for a while – Neuer that’s what I call unlucky Volume 48! But they’ve managed to get one of those Northern chaps from Game of Thrones to fill in. Well done, boys. My prediction? First of course!
Though they might face stiff competition from Borussia Dortmund. Borussia comes from the Latin for Prussia, which is something I learnt just now when I looked it up. Dortmund is also twinned with Leeds so could be a town full of football hooligans and paedophiles, I don’t know. This lot dress themselves like wasps when they play sports, which I think is a great idea. More teams should dress in animal costumes. I’d love to see Kent FC stepping out in horse suits – for one thing they could get twice as many players on the pitch! Haha. Anyway, Dortmund are top of the league because they’ve been going bloody haywire with the goals. They’ve got plenty of Germans in their team which is always nice to see, though their main man is from the Gabon, which is incredible. I had no idea they played organised sports over there. Anyway, the Gabonese chap is called Aubameyang and he scored a hat-trick against Munchengla…Monchun..Muenchen…BMG, which is good going as apparently they’re not a bad team. It’s nice to see the Dortmundos doing so well, as competition is vital, and for the first time in modern history, there will be a voice of opposition in German parliament….I mean the German Bundesliga.
There’s a surprise challenge coming from the village of Hoffenheim. It’s an actual real village this, with just a post office, a railway station, a village church, a playing field, one small school, and a corner shop that sells those 10p packs of crisps you used to get before the foreigners moved in and ruined everything. They’ve also got a ruddy football team, which is staggering. TSG 1899 Hoffenheim they’re called. Not sure what the TSG stands for – The Soccer Goals presumably. 1899 – must be the year the village was discovered by indigenous tribes. Hoffenheim – actually got its name from David Hasselhoff who, as well all know, ended communism. Nice one, Dave. Anyway, back to the kickball – and it looks like this team are coached by a 16 year old. Julian Nagelsmann has just started studying for his A-Levels. He’s doing German, PE, and Home Economics. Well done Julian. His team have already beaten the mighty Bayern this season, as well as Bayer and Bremen. Julian will be hoping for another three B’s when he sits his exams!
European Challengers
Red Bull give you wings! Or in Leipzig’s case, lots and lots of dirty money. Not that the RB in their name stands for Red Bull, oh no. It stands for Razenballsports, which makes absolutely no sense. Either way, the old lads of Leipzig qualified for the Champions League last season, not sure how, and I daresay they’ll be trying to do it again this year. The boy up front, Werner, is a striker in the classic Aryan mould. All blonde hair, blue eyes and superior genetics. There’s a Guinean in the midfield, name of Keita. Fairly sure he used to be in the Green Hornet. Either way he’s coming to England next year, no doubt another health tourist looking to leech off the NHS and spread tropical diseases. Liverpool you say? Oh, well.
FC Schalke 04 don’t play in Schalke. Do you know how I know that? Because I spent three sodding days driving around Germany trying to find it. No, they play in Gelsenkirchen. So why not call yourselves FC Gelsenkirchen? I mean it beggars belief. Anyway, their manager sounds like a knock off supermarket, their ground sounds like some kind of awful euro-pop bar, and their players sound like terrible superheroes. In goal they’ve got Ralf Fährmann, which translates as Ralf Travelling Man. Their other goalie is called Nubel, and he sounds like a real prize winner. Anyway, they’ve won three, lost three and drawn one so far, so if they’re going to get into Europe (why would you want to?!) they’re going to have to buck their ideas up. May I suggest giving the ball to the Algerian fellow up front a little more often. Nabil Bentaleb. He’s good at scoring goals, so I hear.
Hertha Berlin? I couldn’t live with myself if I did. Haha. Yes, das Kapital. The scene of the crime. Fittingly this team have got a Hungarian in charge, and they’ve filled the team full of WW2 representatives. There’s even Genki Haraguchi, flying the flag for the Empire of the Sun. A Czech, a Swiss, some Yugoslavs. It’s really a great vibe. Though oddly enough they’ve also got an Australian – let’s presume he’s here to represent England. Which, genetically he probably is. Matthew Leckie’s his name, and fitting lightbulbs is his game. Haha. They appear to like drawing a lot this season, which is appropriate given the fuhrer’s love of art, and only two defeats so far stands them in good stead to challenge towards the top of the table.
Relegation Candidates
I am married to a girl from Hamburg, so no one need tell me about the dangers of living in a German dominated household. And it’s competing in a German dominated league – i.e the league of Germany – i.e the Bundesliga – that Hamburg are experiencing the dangers of. Long gone are the days where the beautiful perm of England’s rose Kevin Keegan would bounce back and forth at the Volksparkstadion, these days its Andre Hahn, Bobby Wood and Lewis Holtby looking to secure the wins to take Hamburg aware from the perils of the relegation zone. And I mean let’s be frank, these boys would be better off in a remake of House on the Little Prairie than a dog-fight. They’ve only scored 4 goals in 7 matches, and they haven’t finished higher than tenth in the last five years. Also their kit looks to have appropriated the St George’s Cross which, if you ask me, is a bloody liberty. I’m afraid Hamburg will be sinking like the iceberg that all these climate change fanatics insist is melting. Imagine a nice hock of ham in a pea soup, slowly drifting to the bottom. Yes, just like that.
Sport-Club Freiburg. Well that’s a bad start isn’t it. That kind of vague name will get you nowhere, and if these chaps can’t work out what sport they’re partaking in exactly, then I don’t fancy their chances of staying in this league. The eight goals conceded at Leipzig and Leverkusen will have left the Freiburg goalie feeling Schwolow. Haha. Because his name is Alexander Schwolow. There’ve been plenty of Koch ups in defence. Haha. Because one of the defenders is called Robin Koch. Oh look, they’ve got an English boy on loan, name of Kent. Well maybe they’ll be alright. He’s not in the Garden of England now, but with some typically British steel and determination I’m sure he’ll drag these Freiburgs away from trouble.
Now then, right at the bottom its Koln. Or Cologne. I’m not sure. My favourite cologne is Brut as it happens. You may accuse me of being an old-fashioned turnip, and yes perhaps some of my sensibilities are of a different era, but you can’t beat a good splash of Brut. Really gets the nostrils tingling, and let me tell you in no uncertain terms, it drives women wild. I’ve lost count of the amount of times a young filly has lent into my ear and asked quaveringly ‘what’s that smell?’. This lot made a bloody mess of London didn’t they? All turned up walking and singing as if they owned the place. You can blame Sadist Khan for that. Wouldn’t have happened under my watch let me tell you. Completely ruined 30,000 fans evenings at the Arsenal by chanting and singing and making noise all the way through. Barbaric stuff. So Koln, I’m afraid you’ll have to hand in your privileges. You’ve been far too naughty.
Well, there endeth another transmission from the mind of V. Barrage. I hope you’ve enjoyed sharing my thoughts and experiences of DAS MUTTERLAND, and if you did why not join me next time as I try and make sense of all these silly names. Auf Wiedersehen!
Vile Barrage will be back next month with another completely fact-free round-up of one of Europe’s top leagues, provided he can find the time between making a complete tit of himself.
