If you believe lightning can’t strike twice, ask Joachim Andersen. The unfortunate Danish defender was twice left to rue VAR interventions in the space of a few minutes, firstly for a miniscule offside call to rule out his goal and then for a flick of his fingers by the ball to give Germany their penalty and the lead.
And if you think lightning can’t strike about 500 times, ask the tens of thousands of supporters gathered in the Westfalenpark fan zone to watch the game, evacuated from the area and told the match screening would not resume, as the electrical storm rapidly approached, then lit up the night sky across much of western Germany for the ensuing four hours.
You have to get to the Euro 2024 fan zones pretty early to get a decent location; Dortmund’s has two screens but awkward placing and some questionable locations for the bratwurst stands means it’s almost in three sections when it comes to choosing your spot.
Fans were there for upwards of three hours before the match kicked off to ensure they got a decent view; barely half an hour after it started, though, they were told to give up for good: out of the park within minutes as the rain came teeming down, thousands of fans were then streaking back toward the stadium and, in turn, the town centre when rain turned to enormous hailstones and plenty broke for cover.
And so an evening that began with YNWA in the open air ended up with the YMCA under a glass roof.
But that was later. First, there was sunshine. There was expectation. There was optimism, boosted by the fact that several trains actually ran on time and arrived into Dortmund as expected.
When it comes to football, that station and this city is usually associated with a sea (or a wall) of yellow, but on Saturday it was white, white and white, interspersed with green and speckled with red.
A handful of retro classic shirts and some visiting Denmark fans aside, the hordes gave the impression the current Germany shirt must be the best-selling one on the planet of all time.
The stand-out names of the current crop adorned most: Wirtz, Kroos, Musiala – but there were also icons and, well, names (to be kind) from yesteryear: Voller, Klinsmann, Schurrle, Odonkor.
And as the bratwurst was consumed and the pilsner tanks emptied over the next few hours, the pre-match entertainment threw out some football classics (Three Lions got an airing), some apparently much-loved-locally tunes (a super-extended version of John Denver’s Take Me Home, Country Roads may well still be going on) and the songs we’ve all heard many times while watching or following the German national side (99 Luftballons the gold standard here).
Yet while all this Uefa-approved revelry was going on, one event was conspicuous by its absence: with surely over 10,000 fans in place by mid-afternoon at this Euro 2024 fan park, the actual match taking place was nowhere to be seen in any outside area. Italy’s defeat to Switzerland was invisible, and surely feels a wild oversight considering people are there...for the football. For the tournament. But the second, smaller outdoor screen remained stubbornly blank (or branded) throughout.
One treat for the locals remained before the big game: a rousing rendition of You’ll Never Walk Alone, anthem of local side Borussia Dortmund and sung by all on this occasion, even the few wearing club shirts of other Bundesliga sides. It wasn’t the last time fans would sing together tonight, but it was the best one.
The match started.
Confusion immediately reigned when Germany “scored” but didn’t, with nobody sure of the reason until a replay was shown a little while later. The giant screen received plenty of boos for that – but nothing compared to the stage manager coming on after 36 minutes, the sound cutting out first to yet more puzzlement... and then the announcement that the screen would be turned off, and everyone had to leave. Immediately.
The incoming storm – the thunder had been heard and lightning seen for quite a while at this point – meant the fan park viewing was abandoned, not to return even if the match continued or resumed, which of course it did.
Amid fury and thrown beers, thousands immediately started to stream out of two narrow exits onto the road outside which led up towards the stadium, taking cover where they could when the hail began – including a small, plastic-or-glass covered structure near the Westfalenstadion. The match itself had been paused by this point and everyone was utterly drowned or bedraggled, so some took the only sensible option: start some music and have a mini party. No matter where you are in the world, doing the YMCA seems to be a universal feel-better catch-all.
But there was still a game to watch. There was still the matter of Germany reaching the quarter-finals on home soil to settle.
And so the thousands continued out, back into town along the “green carpet” - a 3km stretch of thin astroturf-style carpeting, mapping a route from station to stadium – to find whatever pubs and bars still had space, cramming inside where they could, peering inside when they couldn’t.
It was a night when the off-pitch action certainly offered more of a spectacular show than the on-pitch action did, and it felt at times as though every obstacle possible was being produced to stop the game being seen for so many.
Yet supporters always, always find a way to see their team, to beat the odds, to do whatever is required. And in the end, of course, Germany always win.
