Sabres in Germany

The last three hoisters of Lord Stanley’s Cup began those seasons in Europe. The moment I heard the announcement that the Sabres would start the 2011-12 season in Finland and Germany, I planned to go to Berlin. After I already had purchased tickets online and started hunting apartments in Berlin, the Sabres announced a tour package with AAA. They hinted at potential events with the team, and I was sold. AND I had extra tickets, which wound up in the hands of Sabres fans come to Berlin from Buffalo.

The Germany trip was magic. We were whisked from the airport (and a 9-hour flight) to an open practice and photo ops with the team. We were very pretty. My cohort Cindy and I decided to see how early beer was served, and became the first members of the trip to draw a draught, having beer for breakfast at 10.30 Monday morning. Tamara Griffin, a Buffalo transplant whose cousin I know gave us her Monday night: taking us to a shnitzel place so local the locals don’t even know about it; giving us insight into German politesse’s and the venting of German windows and doors; showing us downtown Mannheim to balance our Heidelberg tour the next day. We couldn’t have asked for a better introduction. The next day, sitting outside a café after a lengthy walking tour, we just smiled and waved at the people we knew walking by… Ryan Miller, Jochen Hecht, Teppo Numminen. If that happened in Buffalo, we would have stopped them for photos and tweeted about it, but we were sharing Germany with them, and we were totally cas.

Go see Adler Mannheim (the Mannheim Eagles) play. They’re a good team, and the opening video showing the journey of the team from their old Aud to the current digs included a lot of championships. I wonder what that feels like… The highlight is the fans. The end zone doesn’t have seats – the fans stand the entire game, chanting and singing and clapping in rhythms. Very enthusiastic, and putting our “Let’s Go, Buffalo” and “Ooh, ah, Sabres on the Warpath” to shame. Fabulous energy, and a good game to boot. Souvenir stands had to institute population controls, the end zone started their own “Let’s Go, Buffalo” chant, and Tamara saw her first NHL game ever. (Honestly, one of the stresses of preparing for the trip was trying to surprise Tamara’s 13-year-old daughter with Sabres gear – how do I know what a 13-year-old would wear? I did OK with a burn-out T-shirt with a bedazzled Sabres logo – she wore it to school on Game Day. Phew.)

A couple of inspirations made our game night in Mannheim. On the way to our hotel after Monday’s practice, I had the epiphany that we needed to make a sign. With Jochen as the local hero, we chose to rip off the sign of a girl who sits in front of me in Buffalo, who periodically shows up with a sign that says, “What the Hecht? You must be Jochen!” It’s one of my favourites. We included a footnote on the sign crediting her. Cindy had the brilliant idea of putting “Thank you, Mannheim” on the other side. Shortened to “Danke Mannkeim” to save the markers we had just purchased at Woolworth’s (thank you, Knox family…), we then drew a big German flag at the bottom, too. We were each on the big screen at the arena, and apparently on the German feed of the game, but the magic of the sign came after the game when we just held up the “Danke Mannheim” side as we waited outside our bus, and wave after wave of fans stopped to talk to us. They were as excited to have us as we were to be there. You could sense a little bit of that inferiority complex that makes Canada and Buffalo so endearing – the “WE think we’re fabulous, but we don’t really believe it until we’re validated by outsiders” complex. It was fabulous. Danke, Mannheim.

Munich was less hockey and more beer drinking with Scottish football fans. And by football, of course, I mean soccer. Except… one of the Scots was actually a Marv Levy fan – what are the odds? We told him we were from Buffalo, and he said, “Where would you rather be than right here, right now?” We had brought items from home to give away, should we encounter Europe-based Buffalo fans who can’t skip off to the Sabres store like we do. Mark the Scot became the proud owner of Buffalo Bills bunting, from Ace Flag on Transit.

On to Berlin, on a train that was so smooth it was like one of those rides where you sit still and are shown a video to simulate motion. We choked the hotel’s wifi trying to bring the Helsinki game in on twenty or so different appliances. Cindy — as always — thought outside the box, and we headed to the internet café right outside the hotel door and pulled up my NHL Centre Ice account on a hard-wired computer at which we were allowed to drink beer and eat dinner. An inexplicable King Kong statue in one corner, Angelina Jolie Tomb Raider statue in another, added to the surreality of the waitress telling us the pizza would take longer than expected: “We have a little fire in the kitchen…”

We expected Berlin to be a letdown after the immense energy of a smaller town that wasn’t as used to international attention. Imagine a European team coming to Buffalo, then going to Toronto. We explored the city a bit by train – oh, YEAH we did — with the excitement of “Game Day!” bursting out periodically. Pregame nap, Game Day outfit (Cindy went all German on us and wore her lucky socks with open-toe shoes), Arts & Crafts Hour to convert The Sign to say “Danke Berlin.” At the pregame happy hour at the hotel, I led some fans in the singing of “The Hockey Song,” but since they never play the “third period, last game of the playoffs, too” at Sabres games, I was alone on the last verse. Then Cindy saw some of our tour get into a cab, and asked if we, too, could just get our tickets and go to the World O₂ Arena on our own. Outside the box and into a cab.

We had skipped the political sights of Berlin in favour of daily-life exploration, and were rewarded when we got to the Arena. Literally across the street from where the cab dropped us was the last remaining original section of the Berlin Wall, covered in colourful murals. Photo op. We milled through the crowd with The Sign held high, half-heartedly trying to sell my tickets, but more talking to fans and getting our photos taken with strangers. My Hockey Night in Canada jersey helped in that regard (It was Saturday, and that’s what I wear to Sabres game on Saturdays. Don’t judge me.). We even ran into friends from Buffalo, making the ticket disposal an easy decision. We felt a drop, then that second one that you actually comment on, and we just caught the beginning of a torrential downpour as we squeezed our way into the Arena entryway. Apparently if you use O₂ phone service, you have a separate, much faster entrance, called the “Blue Lane.” I was sure that my outstanding record as a Labatt drinker would get me through. Um, no. They’re rule-followers in Germany.

Inside, what we had started to observe outside was magnified: fans of the LA Kings, allegedly the home team and owned by the owner of the arena in which we stood, were outnumbered by Sabres fans by 20-1. Easily. My endearing Buffalo inferiority complex kicked in: we were, in fact, validated. The Sign continued to work its magic — Cindy and I were interviewed by German television, had our photos taken with more strangers, and found our new Mannheim friends at the game who explained that 2,000 fans from Austria and another 1,000 fans from Switzerland were there to see Vanek, not to mention the fans of Erhoff and Sekera, and the fact that LA fans didn’t get all excited and take a week off and spend thousands of dollars to go see their team play in Europe.

Berlin, too, had an end zone crew leading the crowd, but not as intensely as the one in Mannheim. The visiting team had their own cheering section: it was called “the entire seating area.” The Kings were actually booed when they took to the ice, and the Sabres’ opening video inspired the crowd. The souvernir stands sold items from both teams, but only hooks remained on the Sabres sides of the stands by midgame, while LA merchandise was still available post-game. The Sabres responded with a 4-2 win, making them the only NHL team to be undefeated in Europe this season.

Not that there haven’t been enough positive changes at the FN Center in Buffalo under the watch of the Pegulas (they are FINALLY selling Coke Zero, the official drink of the Buffalo Sabres), but I should point out that the Sabres are undefeated when I drink German beer at the game. Just sayin’.