Francia, Francia, va fanculo!
Written by Bwog Staff
Bwog fan Joyce Hau checks in from Berlin, where she jostled with nearly a million football fiends on the Fan Mile for the final match of the world cup between Italy and France.
From Joyce: How ironic–the French have nothing to thank him for now.
More from Joyce, including literal translations of German player’s last names and an allusion to the Nazis in a German World Cup-pop song, after the jump.
There isn’t a language in the world as physical and literal as German. For instance, the word for ‘mitten’ is ‘Fausthandschuh,’ which literally means Fist-Hand-Shoe. In honor of the hosts of World Cup 2006, we’ve taken the liberty of translating the last names of some German national team players. With these appellations, the following soccer stars were assuredly the butts of many a schoolchild’s joke. But who’s laughing now? Oh yeah, the Italians.
Former national team captain/monster menace Oliver KAHN: Since he was benched semi-permanently by national coach Jürgen Klinsmann, he’s now more of an Oliver CAN’T.
Local TV Commentator Otto VON THORN UND TAXIS: OF THORNS AND TAXIS. No real translation needed.
Old-timer legend/D.O.M. Franz Beckenbauer: Although he is known around the country as the ‘Kaiser,’ his name means ‘basin-builder.’ Appropriately enough, according to German tabloids, the most legendary soccer player in West German history spends more time in the bathtub ‘entertaining’ guests than on the football throne. He even had time this World Cup to get married a third time.
And a snippet from German pop band Sportfreunde Stiller’s Top Ten pop song ” ’54, ’74, ’90, 2006″, released for the World Cup:
“Wir haben nicht die höchste Spielkultur.
Sind nicht gerade filigran.
Doch wir haben Träume und Visionen
und in der Hinterhand ‘nen Master Plan.”
“We don’t have the highest game culture,
we’re not of the highest filigree.
However we have dreams and visions
and up our sleeves a Master Plan.”
Now, just as long as they don’t have a Final Solution…
Closer to home in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, a sixteen-block-long party honked, yelled, drank, sang, and waved the red, white, and green through the cannoli and calzone capital of the world for hours after the final penalty kick.
Bwog shudders to think what this place would’ve look like had France’s star player not head-butted the Italian footballer.