Ahead of a tense day in Berlin, Emmet Ryan has some drunk thoughts to share with BiE readers
Let’s not dance around it, I mean I’m totally going to but it’s a nice thing to say, Turkey and Serbia aren’t exactly friends in the basketball world right now. We know the story, we all know it, and this site in particular isn’t going to revisit it now. It’s a horrible story and one which hurt a lot of friends of this site. Wednesday doesn’t have to be about that story. Wednesday can be about the future. Wednesday can be about peace.
Yet for all my dreams of peace, the words of Paolo from Italy filled me with little confidence earlier. When Serbia and Turkey met at Women’s EuroBasket, in front of roughly 20 people, it almost got ugly. These wounds are deep and it is no place of a writer to try to mend them, only to help those affected find the path to peace. There’s a difference, we are not the arbiter but this site can be the place where both sides feel at home. Ergin Ataman certainly recognised the tension when speaking to Serbian reporters after Turkey’s win over Germany, he said how he “loved” not just liked the Serbian people. A man haunted by a stupid and, yes, offensive but more importantly stupid comment so many months ago. Ataman clearly feels personally responsible for this atmosphere. As a reserved coach when dealing with the media and in other matters by and large, except when courtside, he understands the danger of words. He has been far from his homeland during a time of tragedy, one that clearly rang true with the Turkish team today. This is not an effort to call for forgiveness for one man’s remarks, more to ask all parties to move on because of one clear and undeniable fact to the neutral observer: Serbia and Turkey each have trmeendous basketball teams and it would be better to see them as such than as humans filled with tension. We all win that way.
Today was unusual in the Mercedes-Benz Arena. Germany woke up too late to challenge Turkey. Serbia woke up late but always had too much for Iceland. Italy finally realised they have an amazing roster and beat Spain. This group was blown wide open. We are finally getting the Group B, the madness, that we all hoped for. Yet through all of this I wondered about the bubble. We are here, be it in this apartment in Kreuzberg or in the arena in Friedrichshain, and we don’t know much beyond it. In Bilbao, Barcelon, and Madrid last year I could see where the tournament impacted the city. Here, in our bubble, it’s hard to understand what if any mark will be left on Berlin. Will this just fade into dust irrespective of the efforts within the walls of the arena? This is the type of question this site exists to answer. So, on Thursday when Germany take on Spain, I will take to the city. The locals say I will struggle to find a bar showing and this disturbs me but it is a challenge BiE must take. It is the most important game for Germany since 2005, possibly the last time Dirk and Dennis play together. To think that no-one will care, not even to change the channel if a barfly asks, worries me. Back home in Ireland basketball is a non-entity yet, I assure you, if someone asked to put the national cup finals on that barman is changing the channel. They know that if it’s worth it for one customer, it’s worth doing. More importantly, in certain towns and cities that question doesn’t even need to be asked. How can Germany, with its wonderfully healthy Bundesliga, not embrace what is happening? I refuse to accept this blindly. I will reject watching Pau vs Dirk in person to get this answer. That’s why we do what we do.
And so to the business end of proceedings. I felt bad for Luca, a great journalist from Italy and a man who can tell you what to eat at half past who knows what in Madrid. He only saw the first two days of his team in person. Oh to see the Italy of today with the Datome section enthralled. Those boys, those fun boys, enjoying an Italian team getting everything right. “Bello!!!!” they cried as the previously anonymous San Antonio Spurs man cam up so big for his country. Gallo was good, heck Bargs played his guts out and yes I mean that Bargs. The big three in blue did Piangiani’s excessive hair gel so proud. This is what we want from an Italy team. Flair, full on assault, and an air of ha ha fuck you. It’s just what they do when they are on and Spain could do nothing about it. Pau was a monster but he was nothing against the tide.
So I wandered. To a bar nearby where the Italian barman cared not for his country’s win. From there to John Muirs, seriously no apostrophe, where some American tourists were confused by Berlin’s nightlife and an American body wanted to “embody herself in Berlin” and even this many beers in (I wasn’t then) I know that sounds weird. The game isn’t in Kreuzberg and that’s ok. A town needs a place separate from it but can the whole town disconnect? We’ll find out on Thursday. For now, think of Lola. That’s the dog at the top of this piece refusing to eat a piece of cucumber while surrounded by cameras. It eventually ate it, when the phones went away.
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