The German-Danish border is still a few kilometres away, but there are quite a few people who claim that Denmark begins at Nordermarkt in Flensburg. The cafés in Norderstraße emanate the hygge spirit, books can be borrowed from the Danish Central Library for Sydslesvig and on this memorable 29 June, football can be watched in Flensborghus, the centre of the Danish minority.
Joint party at the birth of Danish Dynamite
The last time a public viewing was organised here was in January, when a new king was crowned in the person of Frederik X, who took over from the extremely popular Margarethe II. Although the new European football champion will not be crowned today, the European Championship round of 16 between Germany and Denmark is electrifying people here in the border region to such an extent that there is hardly a better place to watch together than the Flensborghus. Both cultures have been coming together here for a long time.
It has been 42 years since the neighbouring countries last met in a major tournament, the 1992 European Championship final in Sweden. The Danish 2:0 victory is considered to be the birth of "Danish Dynamite", the fan chant that the Danes still use throughout Europe today. "Of course, the Germans were in the vast majority," says Hendrik Vestergaard, recalling the atmosphere that prevailed in the cafés and restaurants on the nearby Nordermarkt in 1992. Vestergaard even still has the original Danish fan hat with the two clapping hands. "After the 2:0 in favour of Denmark, the Germans clapped along," says the South Schleswig native with dual citizenship. "Everyone was hugging each other afterwards. That's how it is here in Flensburg."
Greeting from the Vice-Chancellor
The peaceful coexistence here in the German-Danish-Frisian border region was also emphasised at the opening of the Europeada in the afternoon at the A.P. Møller Skolen in Schleswig. "Our great-grandfathers shot each other dead and bashed each other's heads in, wars were fought because of language conflicts, neighbours and friends turned into enemies and opponents because of cultural affiliation," said German Vice-Chancellor and Europeada patron Robert Habeck, who himself comes from Flensburg, in a video message. "But these places, where the battlefields of the past were, are now centres of encounter."
The A.P. Møller-Skolen and the Flensborghus are also such centres of encounter. Queen Margarethe travelled to Schleswig in 2008 for the opening of the Danish secondary school together with the school's founder, the shipowner Mærsk Mc-Kinney Møller. The fact that it was designed by the same architect as the opera house in Copenhagen is evident in the spacious and aesthetically pleasing building. It has long been used not only as a school, but also as a cultural centre for all residents. It is the most important concert venue in Schleswig and also the venue of the Schleswig-Holstein State Theatre.
Visitors from Lusatia and Romania
The Flensborghus, which is known far beyond Flensburg's borders for its jazz concerts, is also open to all. On Saturday evening, the red jerseys and the Dannebrog, the Danish flag, dominate. Occasionally, Germany shirts and black, red and gold headgear mingle with the 200 or so spectators in the packed hall. "We expect Germany to win 2:1," says Stefan Brückner from Cottbus. Brückner has travelled with his family to support his nephew, who is playing for the Sorbs at the Europeada.
Shortly before the start of the match, a team in green shirts enters the room. FC Pobeda, which represents the Bulgarian minority in Romania, has set up camp nearby and is now watching the German-Danish spectacle as a neutral observer. The home team of the Danish minority will not be there tonight. The South Schleswig team are watching the game in their team hotel at the harbour so as not to be distracted before the first game on Sunday morning at 11am.
"Our man with Nagelsmann"
The first cheers from the German supporters quickly turn into much louder cheers on the Danish side when Nico Schlotterbeck's header is cancelled out. Overall, the atmosphere is very focused but largely calm. "I think it's good that there's not so much shouting here," says one spectator. The rain interruption in Dortmund doesn't bother anyone, but is used as an opportunity to get a beer or make small talk. "Our man in Berlin," says a woman as Stefan Seidler, who sits in the German Bundestag for the Südschleswigscher Wählerverband (SSW), walks past. The SSW also has its headquarters in Flensborghus.
"Our man in Dortmund" is what some people always think when the German assistant coach Mads Buttgereit comes into the picture. Buttgereit was born in Denmark, grew up in Flensburg and is also part of the Danish minority. Before becoming the German team's standard coach for corners and free kicks, he was responsible for the Danes in the same capacity. He is mainly responsible for the Europeada fixture list – it was he who drew the groups in December as Europeada ambassador.
Respect for the losers
The brief outburst of emotion after the supposed Danish goal gives an idea of the party that would have gone on here if Joachim Andersen's goal had counted and Denmark might even have won. As it was, only the Germans were able to cheer twice and the Danes paid tribute to both teams.
"I'm not disappointed, we lost in honour," says Hendrik Vestergaard. "The Germans will recognise that you have to be damn good if you want to beat Denmark."