The Kings of Our Hearts

Well, at least they made third place, otherwise the Germans would now throw themselves into a deep funk of depression to make up for all this frivolity of the past weeks of the World Cup. There was a sweet show at the Brandenburg Gate today (I only saw it on TV, I am not standing with 500,000+ people in 35 degrees C heat to catch a glimpse of the sunny boys - or to maybe catch a ball they kicked into the crowd).

Most of the players (especially Bastian Schweinsteiger, the one-man-goal-getting-machine of the last game) looked, shall we say, a tad tired? Like as if they had been partying a bit much all night? Whatever, they earned it. And as the party went on, they turned sillier and sillier, singing songs and Schweinsteiger "helping" the drummer of Sportfreunde Stiller (the singers of the new hymn "'54,' 74, '90, 2010") - the drummer gave him his drumsticks.

They all wore the number 82 on their backs and "Danke, Deutschland" on the front. This was far too intellectual for many of the fans, they had no idea what the 82 meant. There was a little "Mio" underneath - they meant "Thanks to all 82 million+ Germans who helped us these past weeks).

But by now we kind of know all the names of the guys. And Germany is still feeling good. I hope this lasts. I am proud of Germany - that they managed to be such a good host and such a good loser, still keeping their good humor. I mean, look at the change in Angela Merkel - could you have imagined her hugging and kissing ice-cool Klinsmann a year ago? Right - what a scene that was when she gave him his medal.

Now, back to work, Germany.

Jetzt wird wieder in die Hände gespuckt, wir steigern das Bruttosozialprodukt. -- Geier Sturzflug