Ticket or no ticket, Bayer Leverkusen v Newcastle is one of the best trips I’ve ever been on
I’m in a pub less than a mile south of the BayArena, it is Tuesday, Bayer Leverkusen v Newcastle United awaits on Wednesday.
The regulars are half-watching the very early kick-off (4.30pm German time) on Tuesday between KAI and OLY.
Well, that’s what the DAZN coverage says. I guess on Wednesday (9pm local) the match will be BAY v NEW. Or maybe LEV are the opponents.
As things stand — they love that expression on cliche TV, don’t they — I am among a lot of Newcastle United fans looking for a ticket.
Quite a few of them visited the Bayer Leverkusen club shop on Tuesday.
Two even asked the assistant behind the counter, who was keener to sell half-and-half scarves at nearly 20 euros a pop, whether there were any spare seats. If that’s not the epitome of blind optimism, what is?
Still, shy bairns get nowt. Sadly for Tom and Cohen, from Donny, the reply was in the negative.
They wanted to know if they would be turned away if they bought tickets on a third-party site and tried to enter a home section of the stadium. This became a bit lost in translation but the answer was “probably not, if you keep your gob shut”.
Was there a section of the BayArena where fans could stand together?
This flummoxed the assistant until I interjected with the words “neutral zone”. Who’d have thought it? She understood immediately.
Anyway, the answer was again “no” or rather “nein”. If she had meant nine, she would have been buried under a cascade of 100 euro notes . . .
Dan, Emily, Nico and Harry, from Whitburn, were in a better position, pre-match. They had tickets courtesy of loyalty points. Unfortunately, just the two between four.
How would Mum resolve this conundrum?
Easy: she bought three on a Dutch ticketing website. No sooner said than done. Or rather, no sooner said than revoked, when the site operators immediately noticed the north-east post code. At least they got a full refund.
The BayArena is a spectacular stadium but for thousands of Toon Army foot soldiers it is more difficult to penetrate than Fort Knox.
As football venues go, it’s the spatial opposite of the Tardis. You know how estate agents love to market a house by saying it is so much bigger in reality than it appears from the outside?
Well, Leverkusen have pulled off this trick in reverse. Approaching the stadium from Bismarck Strasse (the Germans urban planners love a historical figure) it looks fantastic, a veritable feast of steel and concrete.
OK, there’s a 4-star superior hotel built onto the northern end, giving a clear view of the pitch if you are prepared to pay VIP prices for a special seat in the VIP bar, but the stadium capacity of about 33,000 is almost impossible to fathom.
It looks for all the world like a 50,000 job. The seats must have tremendous leg room. And posterior room. Social distancing, Leverkusen-style. I cannot believe Covid-19 would ever have been an issue at the BayArena, even if a match was sold out.
Tonight’s is, just in case you didn’t know. Anyway, Bayer’s HQ is not far away if you feel a bit rough.
The landlord of my apartment had recommended a brauhaus a few minutes north of the stadium, so I strolled up Bismarck Strasse, which the local comedians have renamed Xabi Alonso Allee, to be greeted by a young barmaid keen to practise her English. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it! Turns out that Emma is a staunch Leverkusen fan and stands behind the north end goal when her dad has a spare ticket.
We got chatting, in the interests of research, although she nearly destroyed my faith in humanity when she said “Manchester” instead of “Newcastle”. I was in a forgiving mood, thankfully. Don’t think she noticed my death stare.
Anyway, the lovely Emma is working on match day, not at the brauhaus but in the bar of the posh hotel attached to the BayArena. She’ll be on duty from 5pm and the punters will be piling in to watch one of the early Champions League matches on TV before, if they have tickets, heading to the turnstiles. Perhaps QAR v AJA will be showing on DAZN.
I was making a mental note to meet my pals before kick-off in Emma’s bar when she popped the question. No, not that one, don’t be ridiculous. Did I have a ticket?
“No,” I replied, trying to play the sympathy card and shed a flood of tears.
“I might be able to help you . . .”
Now, at this point I have to declare that when I first met the eternally beautiful Mrs R in January 1981, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. Which was quite the sensation for a devout atheist. Every day I thank my lucky stars rather than pray to some non-existent deity. Btw, do you know the definition of an atheist? John Buchan said it was somebody who had no invisible means of support. Hats off to the 39 Steps author!
Back to the lovely Emma. This was no gone-to-heaven moment, it was not even close, but I had a grin as wide as Konrad Adenauer Platz, which is just around the corner from Gustav Heinemann Strasse. See what I mean: there’s the first post-war chancellor of West Germany and a national president without even trying.
As I write, Emma is making enquiries on my behalf. She has promised to ring if there is good news. I will keep you posted.
The brauhaus is one of only a few drinking holes near the stadium, which is surrounded by lots of low-rise housing. Without wishing to go all Homes Under The Hammer, it’s set in a quiet residential area planted with thousands of trees. Oooh, Martin! In summer their foliage must almost hide the BayArena. The main road is closed to cars from an hour before kick-off until an hour afterwards. It’s not so much an out-of-town location, more a deep-in-the-burbs neighbourhood.
The brauhaus shuts at 10pm, though the bar in the stadium hotel stays open till at least midnight.
I found the pub from where I’m writing, which is clearly a Leverkusen stronghold, only 200 yards from my apartment. I say 200 yards, that’s the official distance. It doesn’t account for an idiot with almost no sense of direction, who traced and retraced his steps several times on Tuesday. Got my 10,000 in; and the rest.
The landlady says it will also be serving late. Especially if the home team win and leapfrog Newcastle United in the table, presumably.
It’s next to Zeppelin Strasse. Named after Ferdinand von Z, inventor of the rigid airship, 1838-1917, in case you were wondering. Not Robert Plant’s backing band , , ,
Ticket or no ticket, this is one of the best trips I’ve ever been on.
