Germany Eliminated From Euro 2024 – Time To Wake Up


In the 118th minute in Stuttgart, during Germany’s quarter-final against Spain, nothing existed except football. Not the country’s politics, not its division, not its jobs or real estate market.

Sport has that effect. It draws you in, it puts your life on hold. For the past few weeks, Germany has been a white and pink carnival, where everyone is determined to live like it’s 2006.

But in the 119th minute, Mikel Merino’s header hung in the air, teasingly flicking, before dropping into the back of the net. It froze the nation’s blood and made its legs buckle.

This game played out exactly as it did in 2006. Eighteen years ago, Fabio Grosso’s curling shot in Dortmund hit a young German team in the gut, ending the story of that summer.

But 2024 looks even worse. Merino’s goal sent Spain through to the next round. It also brought reality home.

The far right is on the rise. The trains are not running. Football is just a sport.

Germany is eliminated.


After the game, wurst was still served and beers were still served and sold, but to fans who were bewildered by what they had just seen.

Momentum is tough. When it turns, everything can seem inevitable. Germany had that on Friday night: their 89th-minute equalizer created one of the loudest noises the stadium has ever heard, then a surge that the Spanish struggled to handle.

At worst, the Germans thought they were heading for a penalty shootout. But then something happened that no one had predicted at any time of the day.

Thomas Muller left the field in tears. This was probably his 131st and final match for his country.

“I am proud to be part of this team and especially proud to be German,” he wrote on Instagram. “In these difficult times, we must bring this feeling back into our everyday lives.”


Muller and Toni Kroos consider Germany exit (Visionhaus/Getty Images)

Germany’s most recent European elections, held just before the tournament began, showed strong gains for the far-right AfD party among young voters. Recent polls have also revealed growing concerns among young people about immigration and their economic prospects. The country is also facing the complex issue of military rearmament.

But on Friday afternoon, most of the locals appeared to be gathering in Stuttgart under a blazing sun to have a good time – in their replica jerseys, fisherman hats and face paint.

After the humiliations of the 2018 and 2022 World Cups, and a minor defeat to England at Euro 2020, it was the country’s biggest day in almost a decade, since a European Championship semi-final against France in 2016.

In Berlin, Peter Schilling sang Major Tom in front of thousands of spectators. In Stuttgart, André Schnura played the saxophone one last time.

Schilling is a star. Schnura has become someone else. He is a music teacher and was fired shortly before the tournament. At the start of Euro 2024, he showed up at a fan zone with a saxophone, a Rudi Voller jersey and a pair of sunglasses.

By the second week he was one of the most famous people in Germany.

When he played, he was surrounded by a sea of ​​flags and thousands of fans admiring him from all sides. He refused to give interviews and rejected all requests. Instead, he would appear before Germany’s games and then quickly disappear afterwards, known only for his Instagram account and his long messages preaching solidarity, unity and kindness.

A month ago, no one knew who he was. On Thursday, he was invited to play at the Fourth of July party at the American Embassy. Even before the group stage was over, Hamburg’s Miniatur Wunderland, the world’s largest model railway, had added him and his saxophone to its exhibit.

It’s a typical story of how the German tournament plays out outside the games. The victory dictated the mood, but the country will remember much else. Schnura and his saxophone, Schilling and Major Tom, the pink shirts thumbing their noses at conservatism. Cocoa powder and mosquitoes. That long night at the Westfalenstadion, when it was hit by a biblical storm. Jamal Musiala representing the best of modern Germany. Niclas Fullkrug’s toothless grin. Toni Kroos.


Fullkrug celebrates with his supporters as Germany beat Scotland (Stefan Matzke/sampics/Getty Images)

The best tournaments evoke a strange nostalgia that lasts long after UEFA or FIFA have given up. And that nostalgia always comes from something other than football, like Nessun Dorma and a deep football romanticism in Italia ’90. Tactics and team selections are topics that last only a few weeks. The meaning of the tournament comes from somewhere else.

In Germany, this time, it was really a desire to turn the page. It is a country in difficulty, on an uncertain path, and the seduction of 2006, when patriotism was suddenly at its peak and stadiums were packed, is obvious. Everyone wanted a second summer fairy tale. Between Schilling, Schnura, the good weather and all the rest, they almost got their happiness.


(Seb Stafford-Bloor/The Athletic)

The Stuttgart fan zone was silenced by Merino’s goal. When the final whistle blew a few minutes later, confirming Germany’s elimination, the crowd was still in shock. This time, the German team left the stadium to applause. What mattered was that Germany had played well. They had been unlucky to lose. You’ll Never Walk Alone played over the sound system as the crowd began to leave. The joyous strains of Don’t Stop Believin’ led them out into the night.

Across town, fans were filing out of the stadium. Some were drunk and discouraged, others shrugged and cheered as they walked back to the station, beer cans crumpled under their feet.

A bagpiper has tried to earn his place at the World Championship by playing off the tournament grounds. He has been everywhere: Munich, Frankfurt, Stuttgart too. The fans now know and love him, stopping to donate money and take pictures as he passes. Further down the road, another bagpiper, just for the fun of it, sends his shrill notes into the night sky. The German fans throw their arms around him.

Everyone is always having fun.

The German media, however, are less so. A few hours after Germany’s elimination, the tabloid Bild attacked Anthony Taylor, the English referee, for his refusal to award a penalty in extra time for Marc Cucurella’s handball.


German players leave the pitch after the defeat against Spain (Lluis Gene/AFP via Getty Images)

“Our summer fairy tale was shattered by a prison guard from England,” they write.

On the train back to the city, a man was studying the footage on his phone. He was wearing a Stuttgart wristband and had Deniz Undav’s name on the back of his jersey. He was asking his friends where the alleged offside spot was that Taylor had found to prevent Germany from getting a penalty.

Behind him, a group of Spanish fans chanted that Kroos was Spanish. One woman among them spoke in English, German and Spanish in turn. She lives just outside Stuttgart, she said, but she grew up a Real Madrid fan and Musiala should really play for them. Another woman, older, with one cheek painted red, black and gold, nudged her son to make him laugh.

Further away, young German fans could be heard banging on the side of the carriage and chanting slogans.

“Berlin, Berlin, we’re driving to Berlin!”

They are not going to Berlin, not to look at Germany – for the moment, however, no one seems to care much about that.

The football was good enough. The Germans wanted their pride back and they got it. When the 2026 World Cup starts, they will be a force, still under the leadership of Julian Nagelsmann.

“There was a certain euphoria,” says Niclas Fullkrug. “There was a sense of community in Germany, and so did we. That had not been the case for a long time. It’s very, very sad.”

Nobody knows when Germany, the country, will get that feeling back. It was a dream and it was wonderful, but it’s time to wake up.

(Top photo: Federico Gambarini/picture alliance via Getty Images)



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