There were always a few additional quirks.
And again Frank-Walter said it as if it were carved in stone. The event was Netzer Günter’s 80th birthday, which is coming up this Saturday. “You have raised the reputation of our country in the world,” the president said. Did he mean appearance? Günter Netzer has certainly improved the appearance of the country.
In a time when football smelled like Walter Frosch and the ox-necked calf-biters would piss on their opponents during the halftime break, Netzer seemed like a rare Adonis, a beautiful stain in a crucible of ugliness. He floated over the green with his hair flying, a safety rating of 8.9, which was not yet established. Look, the action, the game, everything was perfect, a messenger of the future when football would one day be played in Germany.
The substitution in the 1973 Cup final against 1. FC Köln is more than just an anecdote. It is an example of the relationship between convergence and divergence that every system must achieve in reality. There are three types of people in football: those who are part of the whole, those who also have an overview of the whole, and those who fill the gap left by the system with their incalculable individuality. Netzer was a third striker, someone who had to do his job so that he could serve the whole. Bad bosses bite Anarchos, good bosses use them as a resource. Weisweiler was a good guy.
All that remains for Netzer, besides allowing the Sparwasser gate at Wandlitz to be erected with a monument, is the reason for the angry speech that the notorious choleric Völler made between his third and fourth wheat beer at Waldi. There you have it, Günther.
