think I’d ever met a more beautiful woman. If she’d had any skill with a football I’d have offered to marry her right there and then.
‘What time is the game tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘Seven forty-five.’
‘And how were you planning on spending the day?’
‘I thought I would see the sights.’
‘It would be my pleasure to show you the city,’ she said. ‘Besides, there’s something I want you to see.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s a surprise. Why don’t I come back here at eleven and pick you up?’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
Sweet dreams, she said as we parted on the steps of the hotel and I knew that this was almost a given. I don’t usually remember my dreams but this time I was kind of hoping I would, especially if Valentina featured in any of them.
10
The following morning I caught a taxi down to Glyfada, just south of Athens, to have breakfast with Bastian Hoehling and the Hertha team at their hotel, a sixties-style high-rise close to the beach but perhaps a little too close to the main road north to Piraeus. Apparently Olympiacos supporters had spent all night driving past the hotel with car horns blaring to prevent the Berlin side from sleeping. The Hertha players looked exhausted; and several of them were also suffering from a severe bout of food poisoning. Bastian and the club doctor had considered summoning the police to investigate, but it was hard to see what the police could have done beyond telling them the Greek for lavatory.
‘You really think it was deliberate?’ I asked, choosing now to ignore the omelette that the hotel waiter had brought to our table.
Bastian, who was feeling unwell himself, shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but we seem to be the only ones in the hotel who’ve gone down with whatever this thing is. There’s a party of local car salesman having a conference here that seems to be quite all right.’
‘That certainly clinches it, I’d have thought.’
‘If this is a friendly,’ he said, ‘I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when you play these guys in the Champions League. You’d better make sure you bring your own chef and nutritionist, not to mention your own doctor.’
‘Our present team doctor is just about to take up a new position in Qatar.’
‘Then you’d better find a new one. And quick.’
‘Perhaps you’re right.’
‘I wouldn’t put anything past these guys,’ said Bastian. ‘The newspapers seem to be treating this whole competition like Greece versus Germany. The Olympiacos manager, Hristos Trikoupis, referred to us as Hitler’s boys.’
‘That surprises me,’ I said. ‘Hristos was at Southampton with me. He’s a decent guy.’
‘Nothing surprises me,’ said Bastian. ‘Not after Thessaloniki: the bastards threw rocks and bottles at our goalkeeper. We had to warm up in a corner of the pitch well away from the crowd. I couldn’t feel less popular in this country if my name was Himmler not Hoehling. So much for the home of democracy.’
‘You’re Germans, Bastian. You must be used to that kind of thing by now. The first thing you learn in the professional game: there’s no such thing as a friendly, especially when there are Germans involved. There’s just war and total war.’
Because I was speaking German I used the phrase totaler Krieg famously coined by Josef Goebbels during the Second World War, and some of the Hertha team glanced nervously my way when they heard it, the way Berliners do when they hear that kind of Nazi shit.
‘If I were you, Bastian,’ I added, ‘I would play tonight’s game the same way. It’s the only language these Greek guys understand and respect. You remember the rest of what was written on Goebbels’s banner? Totaler Krieg – kürzester Krieg . Total war – shortest war.’
‘I think maybe you’re right, Scott. We should fucking run over them. Kick the bastards off the pitch.’
I nodded. ‘Before they do the same to you.’
After breakfast I went back to the Grande
‘What time is the game tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘Seven forty-five.’
‘And how were you planning on spending the day?’
‘I thought I would see the sights.’
‘It would be my pleasure to show you the city,’ she said. ‘Besides, there’s something I want you to see.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s a surprise. Why don’t I come back here at eleven and pick you up?’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
Sweet dreams, she said as we parted on the steps of the hotel and I knew that this was almost a given. I don’t usually remember my dreams but this time I was kind of hoping I would, especially if Valentina featured in any of them.
10
The following morning I caught a taxi down to Glyfada, just south of Athens, to have breakfast with Bastian Hoehling and the Hertha team at their hotel, a sixties-style high-rise close to the beach but perhaps a little too close to the main road north to Piraeus. Apparently Olympiacos supporters had spent all night driving past the hotel with car horns blaring to prevent the Berlin side from sleeping. The Hertha players looked exhausted; and several of them were also suffering from a severe bout of food poisoning. Bastian and the club doctor had considered summoning the police to investigate, but it was hard to see what the police could have done beyond telling them the Greek for lavatory.
‘You really think it was deliberate?’ I asked, choosing now to ignore the omelette that the hotel waiter had brought to our table.
Bastian, who was feeling unwell himself, shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but we seem to be the only ones in the hotel who’ve gone down with whatever this thing is. There’s a party of local car salesman having a conference here that seems to be quite all right.’
‘That certainly clinches it, I’d have thought.’
‘If this is a friendly,’ he said, ‘I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when you play these guys in the Champions League. You’d better make sure you bring your own chef and nutritionist, not to mention your own doctor.’
‘Our present team doctor is just about to take up a new position in Qatar.’
‘Then you’d better find a new one. And quick.’
‘Perhaps you’re right.’
‘I wouldn’t put anything past these guys,’ said Bastian. ‘The newspapers seem to be treating this whole competition like Greece versus Germany. The Olympiacos manager, Hristos Trikoupis, referred to us as Hitler’s boys.’
‘That surprises me,’ I said. ‘Hristos was at Southampton with me. He’s a decent guy.’
‘Nothing surprises me,’ said Bastian. ‘Not after Thessaloniki: the bastards threw rocks and bottles at our goalkeeper. We had to warm up in a corner of the pitch well away from the crowd. I couldn’t feel less popular in this country if my name was Himmler not Hoehling. So much for the home of democracy.’
‘You’re Germans, Bastian. You must be used to that kind of thing by now. The first thing you learn in the professional game: there’s no such thing as a friendly, especially when there are Germans involved. There’s just war and total war.’
Because I was speaking German I used the phrase totaler Krieg famously coined by Josef Goebbels during the Second World War, and some of the Hertha team glanced nervously my way when they heard it, the way Berliners do when they hear that kind of Nazi shit.
‘If I were you, Bastian,’ I added, ‘I would play tonight’s game the same way. It’s the only language these Greek guys understand and respect. You remember the rest of what was written on Goebbels’s banner? Totaler Krieg – kürzester Krieg . Total war – shortest war.’
‘I think maybe you’re right, Scott. We should fucking run over them. Kick the bastards off the pitch.’
I nodded. ‘Before they do the same to you.’
After breakfast I went back to the Grande
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