Did you get tickets for the final?

How I once got no tickets for the final

A week later I'm standing at Odeonsplatz and waiting for my ride. When it comes to getting tickets, I haven't made any progress yet. I've spoken to a lot of friends on the phone. Someone knows someone who has a higher position at Adidas, but even he would have difficulties getting tickets. While I'm wondering how many of the rich and beautiful here on Odeonsplatz have a ticket, Simone comes and asks whether I would be able to take a ride to Saarbrücken.

“We're up there,” she says and leads me to a Ford Mondeo with a Cologne license plate. Her friend Michael is at the wheel, small talk with passengers. “I haven't studied for a long time,” says Simone's friend. "I'm sales manager for Ford in southern Germany."

Ford! They are Champions League sponsors. And the guy is a sales manager. "Do you have tickets for the final?" I burst out. He turns to his girlfriend, then starts laughing. “Well, I'm going,” he says. I see his grin in the rearview mirror.

Back in Munich I go to the largest Ford dealership in the city, right next to the Olympia shopping center. Directly behind the entrance is a Focus with the Champions League star ball, it smells like car polish. I go to customer service. “Excuse me, but do you have tickets for the Champions League final?” The woman behind the desk doesn't make a face and says “One moment please” as if I had asked for spare tires. She moves the mouse back and forth, click, click. Is she seriously looking for cards? Or does she play solitaire? "Contact the man over there, he can help you," she finally says, pointing to a black-haired man in a white shirt. He's not going to be serious ... "I beg your pardon?" He replies and immediately puts on a pitying look. “No, we only had two tickets for a competition. But they are gone now. "

I'll also stop by Sony, another Champions League sponsor. Same result, this tactic may not work. Ebay is also not an option, I don't have several thousand euros lying around. I have to go to the source. To where most of the final tickets probably exist in Munich. To FC Bayern on Säbener Strasse.

It's Tuesday, the sun is shining, 23 degrees. I ride my bike, on the way I stop at a flower shop and buy three red carnations. Who knows, maybe it will bring something. The Säbener is in operation, it is public training. Lots of media representatives are there, including a blonde Sky presenter who looks bored. "Sorry, do you have tickets for the Champions League final?" “No, I haven't, I'm at the Formula 1 Grand Prix in Monaco that weekend.” Nice too. So the carnation number, on to the main entrance. Two women sit at the reception, one blonde and one black-haired. I go to the black-haired woman and ask the question. Her eyes get bigger, her mouth opens. "You don't know how it works?" "But I know, I ..." "You have no idea, do you?" She says, raising her voice. She talks about a million inquiries and application deadlines and that I couldn't come so easily. But I have extra flowers with me. "Others have already come up with more creative ideas."

Two days later I am walking through downtown Munich. It's raining, puddles are forming on the pavement. For me, tickets to the final are as far away as FC Bayern from winning the DFB Cup on Saturday evening. A screen flashes in the Hypovereinsbank window on Maffeistraße: “Win ​​final tickets!” Okay, TV, what do I have to do? Take a virtual penalty kick. A camera in the shop window transmits my movements from the pedestrian zone to a little man on the screen. If I get among the top points, I'll be in the raffle.

The first penalty. I stand in the middle of the rain in a pedestrian zone and step into nowhere. What I'm doing there is described as stupid and nice. But the first three 911s are in there. The virtual goalkeeper is not that good. On the fourth, the ball hits the crossbar. What I have done wrong? Did the camera capture one of the pedestrians instead of my movement? That can not be true! The last one is back in, but it doesn't do me any good. Not enough points.

I'm going out to Riem. The trophy is there, and if I can't go to the stadium, I at least want to have seen it up close beforehand. There are scratches all over the place and there is a small dent on the front edge. The lady from Uefa is still standing next to me. She also didn't get any tickets. She says that the big animals in the association make up among themselves.

Should they stop, they just have to do without me. If FC Bayern loses because I wasn't in the stadium, nobody should come and complain afterwards.

Text: martin-schneider - Illustration: Katharina Bitzl