Joachim Löw: Wir haben nur einmal seit seiner Rückkehr in die USA miteinander gesprochen, und dabei ging es nicht um Berufliches oder Fußball, sondern nur um Privates. Jürgen weiß auch, dass ich die Entscheidungen jetzt alleine fällen muss, aber
wir werden freundschaftlich weiter in Kontakt bleiben, selbstverständlich.(We've spoken to each other only once since Jürgen's return to USA, and it was
not about profession or football, but about private things. Jürgen knows that I have to make decisions by myself now, but as friends we'll still stay in contact, without questions)
Daniela Loew's POV
I hated this man from the start. From the moment he and my husband became friends –
six long years ago.
For me he was nothing but a name from newspapers, a picture from TV screen and a soft voice from the phone, asking politely if he could talk with Joachim. But I hated him even then. Because Joachim began to talk about this man.
My husband never talks to me about his work. He never says anything about problems with another club owner, never speaks about his players. Football tactics is not a topic for a chat with beloved woman, that’s what he always says, smiling. The only time he ever mentions his work is when something is really important to him.
And he started talking about him. About their meetings, their charity project, how important it is, how interesting it is to work together… Joachim mentioned him almost every day. I listened to it, and I started hating this man, because he was so important to my husband.
It was nothing like a jealousy then. I didn’t suspect that Joachim had feelings for him. I simply didn’t like that my husband is constantly talking about someone. It annoyed me that the phone call from this man was more important than a visit to our friends. I didn’t think about the worst.
But I had to open my eyes at some point. It happened when this man became a coach of National Team and asked Joachim to be his assistant. It was a great opportunity, and a well paid job, but I didn’t want my husband to take it. Because it meant I’ll have to hear about this man even more often, and I was sick of it already. But still it was a great chance for Joachim. And I didn’t say anything.
And then I saw them together for the first time. This first press conference where they were sitting together, and this man was talking, but I didn’t even look at him. Because I watched my husband, my Joachim, look at this man.
The moment I saw it I understood everything. And I hated this man, because in all the years we know each other Joachim never looked at me like this.
Maybe I should have said something then. But I didn’t want our marriage to fall apart. So I listened to Joachim talking about this man and I watched them together and tried to understand if there is something between them.
And all this time Joachim was a loving husband. He was bringing me flowers and never forgot to buy gifts. I never caught him daydreaming, and he never called the other name in bed. But still I knew that he doesn’t love me anymore. And I hated this man,
because Joachim loved him.
He is good looking, that I have to admit. Polite and charming every time we talked. I had a hard time being civil with him. His smile never worked at me. He stole the man I love. But I still didn’t say anything.
Sometimes I silently laughed at my husband. Didn’t he see that it won’t work out? This man is from another world, their lives are too different, what good can come out of it? Maybe Joachim didn’t see it. Sometimes I was afraid that he understood how
hopeless his infatuation is, but still let himself fall for this man.
The man who has a wife he loves. The woman everyone is ready to call beautiful. I asked Joachim what he thinks about her. “Nothing special”, he said, and shrugged. The bitterness in his voice told me another story. He wanted to be in her place. And I hated this man, because he could make Joachim jealous. I never could.
The great Tournament came, and I prayed for their team to fly out of it as soon as possible. Because in this case this man will have to leave, and I’ll have my husband back. I didn’t even care about what this championship means for Joachim. I only wanted him to be my husband again.
But the team played great, and the tournament was great. And in the end this man has left. But maybe it was too late.
Joachim is the main coach now. The greatest job for every coach – to train their
National team. Not to mention the money. He has a team of young players, and a
chance to win a big prize in two years, and soon there will be his first match as a head
coach. But he never talks about it.
He doesn’t talk much about anything these days. He smiles when he has to, and answers correctly to every question, and yesterday he brought me flowers. But he doesn’t look at me anymore. And last night he slept on the couch in the living room.
I don’t know if they ever went to bed together. I think they didn’t. Maybe Joachim
never even talked about his feelings. Maybe this man didn’t see.
I hate this man now because he left Joachim alone. My husband didn’t deserve this
; Music:Bee Gees - Heartbreaker
Summary: Joachim Loew's POV
Author's notes: I didn't plan to write series, it just happened :) This story is a mirror to "Heartbreaker", but I think it can be read alone as well. Dialogues in italic are phone calls
- Your presence here is rather surprising, isn’t it, Herr Löw?
- I’d say your presence here is unexpected too, Herr Klinsmann.
- It’s good to meet you again, Joachim.
- It’s nice to see you, Jürgen.
And this is how I fell in love.
It wasn’t love at first sight, nothing like that. When we were introduced to each other
for the first time, I was a coach in Stuttgart. He was the “Golden Bomber”, how they called him in newspapers, “Ice Angel” was also in use, captain of national team, world star, young, rich, successful and good looking, unreachable like a vision and as far from me as it could be. Love at first sight? Don’t make me laugh, please. Sure, poets always write about falling in love with a vision, but it’s not my case. I’m too realistic for that.
I fell in love with a real man I learned to know six years ago. The lections were boring for me, because I’ve heard it all already, I could explain all these things myself after working five years as a coach, and Jürgen was always laughing about it. He was sitting
with Guido Buchwald on the opposite side of the room, and often I was watching him instead of listening to another instructor. Our group was spending much time together outside the class – in the hotel or outdoors, we were eating together and learning together, practically living together, sharing jokes and having heated discussions about football, walking and playing and having a great time. Friendships were forming there. And Jürgen was in the center of it all.
He was not a vision anymore. Before me was a man, still young, still handsome, friendly and always smiling. He laughed at my rather lame attempts to mock Hero Bizanz’s
intonations. I managed to impress him with my ability to explain the tactics. He was able to make everyone around him laugh and feel good. I admired his intelligence and his willingness to learn from everyone. He was singing Italian songs just because it annoyed Matthias Sammer to no end. I found out that he is very easy to talk to. He was always in motion. I did my best to keep up with his rhythm. He started calling me Jogi. I didn’t mind. He was the heart of our company. I fell in love with him.
It seemed so natural it didn’t even frighten me. And there were very good reasons to be scared. I fell in love with a man – and I never even had any interest in men before –
with a married man, who lives in America and is happy with his life. Not to mention that I am married too. But I didn’t care then and I don’t care now.
I love him.
- Remember this youth training program we were talking about? We are working on it
now. Are you still with us?
I’m always with you, Jürgen.
I’m a realist, and I know that empty illusions can’t lead anywhere. So resigning myself to the facts was easy. There can be nothing between us, there will be nothing between us, there is nothing to be done about it. I love him, he greets me every time with such brilliant, sincere smile that it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t love me.
I still don’t know why he decided that I’m worth his trust. Jürgen is always very skeptic towards people, even despite his friendly manner. Maybe it was because of my good relationship with Buchwald or because Mayer-Vorfelder fired me without any
reason or just because, but anyway we became friends. He started calling me more often, sometimes just to chat. I visited him in Italy when we both had time. He once made a stop in Austria on his way to Germany just to have dinner with me. I cherished every second I spent with him. I’m a realist, so it was easy for me to understand – this
is all I can ever have from him.
- Jogi, I’d like to meet with you today. I’m in Milan now, can you come?
- Wouldn’t it be better if we meet when you’re back in Germany?
- I’d rather it was today. I want you to be my assistant coach. Can you imagine this?
If only you knew…
Jürgen always does what he thinks is right, without thinking about the price he’ll have to pay. It makes me admire him even more and at the same time it scares me. What if one day it’ll become too much for him, what will happen then? Well, at least I was there to support him when things were not going as we planned.
I learned more about him. I saw another Jürgen, who was too tired to smile and too annoyed to even pretend he’s in a good mood. I saw his anger for the first time – I
wish I’ll never see it directed towards me. We found we have the same interests. We
were sitting in stadiums and talking instead of watching games.
I saw how his face changes when he speaks about his wife and children. There’s such tenderness in his eyes, in his voice, he even looks younger, and there is this special smile that belongs only to her, such beautiful smile…