Six Lessons From Dortmund

September 11, 2014

Despite morning-to-morning alarm calls of 4.20am and 4.00am respectively, I had a wail of a time watching Scotland take on Germany in the Westfalenstadion on Sunday evening.

On and off the field, what lessons can be drawn from our first away visit on the road to France 2016?

Firstly, build stadiums that fans can enjoy the games in. When there’s much speculation about the future of Hampden, a revamp of our national stadium should definitely be considered. A stadium with steep stands like the Westfalenstadion could create a wonderful atmosphere (especially when Scotland are winning). For too many at Hampden, their seat entitles them to a view that is a fair old distance from the action. Perhaps it’s too simplistic, but a new Hampden, built like a bigger Tynecastle could scare a number of visiting teams.

Secondly, the make-up of the crowd at Sunday’s fixture was a lot more like a Scotland rugby match than football. No, I don’t mean lots of farmers in red trousers and Barbour jackets, but a wide variety of people from what seemed to be all walks of life. Families, couples, large mixed group of young people, it certainly contrasted with the average demographic of a typical Scotland home match. Maybe not all of the crowd were massive football fans, much like many fans attending Scotland matches at Murrayfield aren’t die-hard rugby fans. Maybe football in Germany is being gentrified (they even applauded Anya’s goal when we celebrated loudly amongst them), but at least the DFB is attempting to grow the fanbase.

Thirdly, ticket prices might be expensive (relatively) but they come with added benefits. I paid €60 (£48) for my ticket for Sunday’s game, the most I’ve ever paid to watch a game of football. It is a lot of money, but for that price I got to see the world champions play, a free programme and free travel on the day of the game. Considering I and a chum were travelling from Dusseldorf, it saved us a chunk of money. When you consider the average cost of a ticket for Scotland-Georgia next month will be £42 (before any travel costs) then Sunday night seems like a relative bargain. Another feature of the atmosphere around the ground which was created with numerous bars, food stalls, shops and activities. And guess what? They weren’t a total rip-off. €3 for a pint outside the ground when you pay at least £3 at your nearest pub in Scotland isn’t too shabby.

Fourthly, we should learn to integrate our grounds as much as possible. Okay, the Germans had to upgrade many of their stadiums for 2006 World Cup, but there’s no reason why we can’t adapt our grounds to make it easier for fans to get to. In Scotland we arguably have four world class stadia, yet none of them are really set-up to deal with big crowds like the Germans are. Too often it’s easier for fans to drive to these grounds and clog up neighbourhoods with their cars than to use public transport. Even new stadiums like Aberdeen’s don’t seem to have integration plans. In this era of sustainability and environmentalism it looks downright bizarre.

Fifthly, try to deny it all we can, there is a defiant anti-English streak to a number of the Tartan Army. I love watching Scotland play (some of the time), but I’m not a full paid up member of the ‘Tartan Army’. At times, especially when we were getting humped there seems to be an acceptance of mediocrity so long as the fans could go off to exotic places and get smashed, irrespective of the result. But on Sunday night I was struck by how many songs were sung by fans that were more about what we are not, rather than what we are. Perhaps I’m being a little sensitive, but I’d much rather be defined by what I am, rather than what I am not. Plus, singing about Diego Maradona almost thirty years after the event does seem a little passé.

And finally, Scotland are, well, quite good. Yes, we rode our luck early on, but in the second half we really had the world champs rattled. If we had taken one of our numerous chances it could have all been so different. Bring on the Georgians!

 

Written by Duncan McKay