Text: Achim Böcking

Coulda, Woulda

Two football teams left the pearl of the Ruhr by plane from Dortmund airport. One had to go to some insignificant football match in London to face a magenta-coloured outfit from near Unterhaching. We, the “national team”, got to set off for Lithuania with a bit more baggage in our rucksacks, on our hips and round our bellies, to prove to everyone that we too can be good losers.

After landing we went straight onto a bus to take the dream team to the hotel. On the way we greeted a few Egyptians living in Lithuania with joyful singing and, at the same time, packed a few kegs of beer including a tap. Friendships were quickly made and the invitation to Egypt in 2014 was in the bag.

The hotel and the town were very nice, but what mattered, of course, was on the pitch.

Our coach Dr Gresch had also planned some tactical finesse, the most important being to put me up front. Me! For years nobody, really nobody, had recognised my talent – Dr Coach was the first. Perhaps I always had to play at the back because my grim looks and ample build are more reminiscent of a 1960s striker, and I don’t look as lightning-fast as I once was – say, 20 years ago.

Well, what can I say: I scored three goals and was the best goalscorer in our team. If I hadn’t got injured in the district league in October 2013, I might even have gone to the 2014 World Cup in Brazil. But coulda, woulda, shoulda.