Only the Love Counts
The Story of FC St. Pauli
“I have no money, no resources, no hopes.
I am the happiest man alive.”
- Henry Miller
There is life, there is death, and somewhere in between, there is football. In this world, a club is much more than a club — it’s a reflection of a town, a people, a way of life. 21st century football has taken much of that away from us, leaving us with something different. The glorification of success, the complete dismissal of anything less. A football club is a business now, with a bottom line that must be met. Nobody is safe from the commercialization of the sport.
Football is unique. It’s simple, timeless. It draws people from across the globe to watch its dance, to behold its ray of resplendence. The supporters to which it beckons are the bloodline of any football club. They are the means to the bottom line, and the balancing act of keeping culture and cash flow is as difficult as they come. Many clubs lean closer to the money than supporters would like, but without the imbalance, success has a hard time following. So the pendulum swings back to the fans. What’s more important, Success or culture?
In the far north of Germany lies a city in which its inhabitants create a portrait of themselves so aweless that the sporting world can’t help but stop and put its ear to the wall. Hamburg is the city, and FC St. Pauli is the club. In Hamburg’s famous red-light district near Reeperbahn street — also known as die sündigste Meile (the most sinful mile) — is where St. Pauli call home, and their home is everything to them.
The club was founded in 1910, but that is not where the story begins. It begins in the 1980's, with an occurrence of events that could have only happened in a city like Hamburg. The port is the nucleus of the city, and it is where the growth of FC St. Pauli truly began. The harbour industry in Hamburg is the wheel that turns the city with the port known as Europe’s gateway to Asia, but in the late 1970's things weren’t looking that way.
After the partition of Germany in 1945 Hamburg struggled for years to keep its global connections and the port’s usage fell. The once bustling dock areas were relative ghost towns and the area of St. Pauli began to shift. Rent prices came down, restaurants disappeared with pubs and gathering area’s popping up instead. As change continued in St. Pauli, its older inhabitants left, but another force drove in a new people, a footballing people. Hamburg’s biggest football club is Hamburger SV or HSV. They’ve spent much of their life in the top flight of German football and play just 15 minutes from St. Pauli. During the early 1980's the Neo-Nazism movement reared its ugly head in Hamburg, specifically at HSV games. A select group of hooligans became incredibly vocal during a successful period for the club, forcing many supporters away from matches. St. Pauli had their doors open and the pushed away became the welcomed in.
The most important moment, or “the moment of crystallization” as one of St. Pauli’s most famous supporters put it, started in 1981 and lasted over a decade. The houses of Hafenstraße. On St. Pauli’s harbour street were a set of apartments that after the struggles of the harbour industry became vacated. The changes of the area created a space for new culture, and that culture was punk. The houses were squatted in by 1981 and the street became a happening part of Hamburg. Many of the house dwellers came and went as they pleased and a bohemian ethos grew around the harbour, cultivating the punk scene. As the years pushed on the acceptance of Hafenstraße dwindled and the political movement grew frustrated with actions of the houses and its inhabitants. In 1984 the government at the time decided to take action. “They wanted to build here a representative pearl necklace and build on top of our base.” said Claus Petersen, a resident of Hafenstraße throughout the 1980's. As authorities began to try and remove the residents, the anti-government demonstrations began, and people flocked to St. Pauli.
In 1987 the demonstrations reached a boil. Nearly 20 thousand people showed their solidarity with the squatters of the eight houses on Hafenstraße with marches and protests. It was a very wide range of support; hard core anarchists, punks, leftist movement groups, and church goers all took a stand for the people of Hafenstraße. What started as vocal uprising, became a violent fight for land. The police and protesters battled for days and nights on the street as they tried to force their will on the squatters. St. Pauli stood tall in the face of greed that week, an attribute they carry with them almost 30 years on. Eight days later, after a tumultuous battle with police a new contract was negotiated between the city of Hamburg, the squatters and their supporters. The attention and people that were drawn to St. Pauli during the incidents of Hafenstraße found a new love for not only that area of Hamburg, but they transferred their soul to football and FC St. Pauli.
In the late 80's and early 90's the punk movement took full flight at the ground of St. Pauli, the Millerntor-Stadion, but it was not punk as perhaps you know it. They loved punk music yes, but they loved everyone and everything. They were accepting, welcoming and generous to all the new fans of St. Pauli. The club’s principles were set in place by the supporters and became the foundation for the aura that St. Pauli has now.
“In its totality, consisting of members, staff, fans and honorary officers, St. Pauli FC is a part of the society by which it is surrounded and so is affected both directly and indirectly by social changes in the political, cultural and social spheres.”
The club has four other primary principles in which it states its tolerance and respect in mutual human relations, its responsibilities to the district of St. Pauli and its stance on remaining authentic through sport. These pillars are the cornerstones of what make St. Pauli so special and unique. They became the first club in all of Germany to ban right-wing nationalist activities, and homophobic displays in their stadium.
From 1981 to 1990 attendance at St. Pauli matches went from 1,600 supporters to selling out every match with 20,000 people singing their hearts out for a team that is more than club, it’s family. The supporters adopted the skull and crossbones as their unofficial logo and the pirates of love were out to sea. The party atmosphere at matches was unmatched across European football, with the Millerntar-Stadion turning into a popular stop for tourists. The cult phenomenon was born as the harbour district flourished with life once more, love was in the air, football in the heads. Despite a lack of success from the club on the pitch, the growth of St. Pauli was astounding. The team bounced back and forth between the 2. Bundesliga (second tier of German football) and the Bundesliga (top tier). The supporters reputation continued to build, and quickly they became known as the “Buccaneers of the League” and their ground was dubbed the “House of Joy”.
As they kicked on into the 21st century the club yo-yo’d between the top two flights of German football, never lasting more than a couple seasons in the Bundesliga. Another unsuccessful stint in the Bundesliga in 2001 led to relegation, but the money that had begin to flow across world football found its way to St. Pauli, in the form of a lucrative T.V deal from the Bundesliga for their previous season. The wealth was quickly spent on new, exciting players to hopefully promote the team directly back up, but the worst happened, and what many fans had feared became reality. The new signings and new coaches couldn’t adapt to the pressure of St. Pauli, many fans believed they did not care about the club, and specifically the supporters. The team accomplished a rare feat, back-to-back relegations. From the Bundesliga to just a year and a half later battling in the Regionalliga Nord, the third tier of German football. It’s at this point where an identity crisis began to form. Though attendance didn’t severely struggle in the Regionalliga Nord, it wasn’t the same as either of the above tiers, despite the true supporters out in full voice every week. The painful reality of money in European football hit St. Pauli hard, the club approached bankruptcy in the mid 2000's as the team stalled in the Regionalliga Nord. The supporters came together once more, as they had in the mid 80's, this time to save what they had created. The Retteraktion (action of saviours) was designed to bring money back to the club, shirts with the word “Retter” (saviour) around the club logo were sold by the club, and 140,000 shirts were bought in a six week period.
St. Pauli persevered, and came through a dark patch in a blaze of glory. A semi-final appearance in the German Cup helped bolster a run back to the 2. Bundesliga in 2008. The pirates were back where they belong, but lessons had to be learned. Many of the supporters were already vehemently against the idea of splashing cash, or the morbid idea of a foreign owner injecting money into the club, but 21st century football needs balance. The horrific 2003 season scared even more fans away from the idea of a financial compass, but the supporter club understood. FC St. Pauli brought in many new positions and personal into the backroom staff to help transition the club into a sound financial organization. Countless meetings were held between the supporters and management on how to go forward.
The club now has a team shop, both at the stadium and online. There are no large brands sold in the stadium and the club maintains an identity with their fan base and the area of St. Pauli through their products. The club brought in Oke Göttlich as their new president, his main focus was to continue the development of the financial side of the club. “I try to explain that making money can also have social relevance, because through making more money we can be more socially active. Socially active means creating jobs and securing jobs. But what’s important is to not criticize making money, but to make people comprehend it, that making money and commercial revenue contributes in the end to FC St. Pauli.” Says Göttlich. This is the message that the supporters are trying to deal with as the club moves on.
Another one year spell in the Bundesliga in 2011 was their last appearance in the top flight, having now been in the 2. Bundesliga for the last four years, bouncing between 4th and 15th.
13 games into the 2015 2. Bundesliga season, St. Pauli sit third with six wins, five draws and two losses. Manager Ewald Lienen has been in charge for just under a year and has the almighty task of returning the club to the Bundesliga, which has quickly become one of the top leagues in Europe. Ex-Arsenal player Ryo Miyaichi signed a three year deal with St. Pauli in the summer putting down a statement of intent from the club. The 2. Bundesliga is too small for St. Pauli, they deserve something bigger. The footballing world deserve it too.
The tumultuous timeline of creation, life, struggle, expression and destiny are written within everything. Football is no different, each decade offers different beneficiaries and failures, none more important than the other. World football now is terrifying, it’s a cutthroat business draped in 10,000 euro dresses, it’s ad space and margins. Players seem like mercenaries fleeing from club to club like dogs to a bone. It’s not their fault, how can you expect loyalty when supporters give none in return? You ask for more money to support your family and what you believe they deserve and you’re blasted on Twitter by the same supporters who sing your name on Saturday.
St. Pauli stands for the old way of football, the importance of the supporters and the synthesis of neighbourhood and pitch. The red-light district of Hamburg has gone through many changes over the course of the football clubs life, and FC St. Pauli mirrors the struggles and triumphs of the area.
What do you have when you strip down a football club? You have the supporters and love. The love of town, the love of club and the love of football.
That is what connects us all, love.
Nur die liebe zählt.
