America 1 + America 2 take a trip: DAY 31:

Today was supposed to be our sleep-in day, but Sandra had to get up for work at 4 am so I was up, and then again at 8 or so. We had a fairly lazy morning, getting ready for the football game that was the plan for the day, around

We hopped (literally—we ran to it) on the the train to downtown, which gradually filled up with more and more drunk fans. Apparently, Hamburg was playing Hannover, which meant it was a friendly rivalry. Hendrik and his dad explained that normally, the police—their version of riot police—swarmed the train stops to keep people under control. His dad was even hit with a baton one time for walking too slow while talking on the phone at one of the rowdier matches—super intense.

We got to the stadium finally after another run to catch the bus that went from the train to the stadium proper, and took pictures of the empty place seeing as we were about an hour early. This was so that we could go see the museum that was in the stadium that talked about its—and the team's—history. The original stadium was downtown and very small; renovations in the 60s brought it to the stadium that it was today, albeit older. We got to hold one of the trophies they had won—they've won many in the last half century—and wandered around the museum that is dedicated to HSV's history.

After, we went back to our seats—in the standing section only with the other fan(atics) right behind one of the goals. It was really awesome to be there, even if we didn't speak German, because of the atmosphere. Downside however: the guy in front of me smoked like a chimney. And they were the worst possible cigarettes in the world: the smoke billowed out as he chain-smoked his way through the game. Let me paint a picture: I'm standing between Hendrik and his dad, leaning on the metal pole that was there for the standing people. This guy was in front of me a little to the right, leaning back on the metal that I was leaning forward on, so my head was near the back left side of his. He looked about 60 or 70, but as Katie pointed out, with all the smoking he could have been 50 tops. So, I glance over and see this mole-like protrusion from his left temple, but so, so much worse. It looked like it had bubbled and then built upon itself, flattening out and drooping as it got larger. He definitely had hair sprouting fro his ears and from the protrusion itself (don't judge—we had a bit of time before the game started and the warm ups finished). Then he raised his cigarette to his mouth...and I saw his fingernails, at least a quarter of an inch thick, and a deep, sickly yellow, like the result that some people get on their toes from tropical fungi. But this was on all of his fingers. He then proceeded to blow out the foul poisoned air out of his nose, mouth, and even his ears, I'm sure of it (just kidding—but I wouldn't have been surprised if it had happened). I then battled his curling smoke and blew it back over his shoulder when I could see it wafting towards me...a futile act, I must acknowledge, due to the fact that we could see the smoke from the upper stands tumbling down onto our level. Katie didn't fare much better, being too short to see, she had moved up a step and surrounded by three more smokers.

Ok, that was a necessary description, just to give you a sense of how close everyone was together. But other than that, it was really fun! Really! I've been to a few college football games but never a professional one like this, so it was awesome to see all the hardcore fans yelling in unison. There were many songs that were sung, a banner (see picture) that was displayed over all of us, and lots of groans and yelling as the teams failed to perform.

The game itself wasn't terribly great—I asked Hendrik about the #11 player five minutes into the game and he confirmed what was definitely obvious: #11 was supposed to be amazing and everything, but he was actually just a hotshot who couldn't complete a cross or hold onto the ball. You could tell; he had orange boots while everyone else was matching in blacks/whites. And, obviously, by the way he played. The first half was definitely not good for HSV, but they picked it up and dominated the second—though never scoring, though they had several opportunities.

After the game, we beat the crowds back to the train and made it home in one piece. We met Sandra and Iris for dinner in a nice restaurant, where I proceeded to mutilate my half chicken that I got, while Katie decided to get a schnitzel, and both were fairly nice. After, we mulled about at the house until the evening, when we went to the firestation (three doors down) and celebrated the birthday of another friend. This one was much more sedated than Hendrik's had been—no raucous dancing <KATIE'S COMMENT: EXCUSE me, it was not RAUCOUS dancing the night before either. That would imply that it was a sexually charged dance, which it was the COMPLETE opposite. DISLIKE the word choice.> by Katie and her firefighter/plumber man who was there (facebook friend request still pending)--and we learned many new (awesome!) dance moves from Sandra, Hendrik, and their friends. We stayed until a bit past midnight and then began the long walk home—all 100 meters max—knowing that we had to be up at half 6 the next day in order to get to the fish market in Hamburg proper. All in all, a long but very interesting day.