Thoughts from Hamburg
Saturday night was a nervy time in Hamburg. We were happily getting wasted when someone got a random text about the rain and the possibility of a postponement. Having come all this way and spent shitloads this was not the most pleasant of thoughts. We prayed for it to stop – the heavens opened and biblical rain dropped out. Cheers God.
How nice is Hamburg though? The night before the fight avoided the ****ney knees-up and dirty-old-man-fest down the Reeperbahn and headed for a nice little bohemian area - Seems abnormal cos people actually behave normally here on a Friday night out. Mind boggling. Also we found a quality Indie club where they let you smoke on the dancefloor. Heaven.
But back to Saturday. We looked on the bright side of the gloom – maybe the fight’ll go down in the history - ding dong in the downpour? Anything but damp squib in the drizzle. Made the mistake of getting a taxi to the stadium, our driver got restless in the long queue and said it would be quicker for us to walk as we could short-cut the taxis. We weren’t too sure but he encouraged us by doing a 360 and kicking us out. Would have been a nice 20 minute stroll in the sun but as a ten minute jog in torrential rain it was less fun. Still, the mood soon improved when we got inside. These Germans know how to treat a ripped off customer. Loads of beer stalls and orderly queues not like the 20 minute brawl we used to. They also let us smoke and drink in our seats! How could these civilised gents have ever started a war?
We had 130 euro tickets but still felt pretty far back. The cheap seats were literally two yards away from us. Still, it had to be better than paying thousands to look cool at ringside and ending up huddling in your pink Johnny from Naked gun 2 and a half. Always fun checking out the tarts at these events – binoculars worth every penny of the £9.95 from Argos. Serious leggage with a german in white trousers. Crimes against humanity .
I got confused with Haye’s entrance and missed Buffer’s lets get ready – I was dying for the lav and didn’t want to miss the fight of the decade. Loved Wlad’s CGI fest intro but where was the band? I needed perms and leggings to make it a truly legendary ring walk. Did have the Red Hot chilli peppers in my head for two days though – As aint no stopping us had been for the previous two.
It got to about round 8 and I rubbed my eyes and wondered if it was still the first round. Action was identical, none to be seen, but the crowd had changed. A chant of Klitschko, Klitschko arose from somewhere – possibly the tannoy? It was booed down the first time but second time people couldn’t be bothered – the big man was winning people over like Rocky 4 in reverse. Haye needed to jump in and take a bigger risk – but he was happy to swing from the outside and take a little risk. Us people who’d taken a big risk with their finances to come over weren’t overly pleased with this. Only one david haye turned to people calling him a prat and other less nice stuff.
Still, we could salvage the night dancing till 5am in the Indie Club, couldn’t we? The queue at the underground was so bad we decided more rain jogging was in order. Even the booze couldn’t help me through this ordeal, our map ended up a soggy mush and someone’s phone broke. Even my underwear was wet through.
Haye was satisfied with being a prat – he wanted more and bought out the bee stung toe – I wonder how much sympathy the Milwall fans outside the weight in had with that? Even Haye’s bell-boy Saint George looked embarrassed. Still, Hamburg was really nice.