Allerspach Chasing Brunner / Vaduz & Spittal Dominate / Disbelief in Fulpmes
Observations & Opinions
From Harold Abrahams – Special Correspondent for TSS
And from Zino Stiles-Johnson and Thill Brenner – Correspondents for TSS
Bern, Switzerland – By Harold Abrahams – Special Correspondent for TSS
Your correspondent came to Bern in December to watch Salzburg face the current holders of the Tyrol Cup. That Week 3 outcome, a 27—14 trouncing by the Edelweiss, stunned me and at least some of the thousands of onlookers, as the Alpenhorns were somewhat muted and the knot of young fans known as the Bears Buddies weren’t as rowdy as usual.
On Thursday, two days before the Armed Bears hosted the 6—7—0 Brenta Burci, I sat with Bern Manager Luke Bossard in his favorite brasserie, Ami, owned by a French couple that left Paris in the 1990s and never considered returning. He was in a genial mood, savoring French Onion Soup and fresh, crispy bread. He reflected on the past eleven months, the expectation of leading one of the marquee franchises in Wiesespiel, and losing decisively – twice – to a very formidable Salzburg outfit.
“Last season, every Bear produced his dream season. The backline – Felix, Jonas and Otto – were impenetrable. Leol, Res, Hugues … they were relentless. In the locker room, we called them ‘the hungry jackals.’ And, of course, Leonhard was the greatest player alive. We were 16—2, and in the Final, we won a game we seemed fated to win. And on Champions Night, we won an embarrassment of Cow Bells. Mine,” and here Bossard’s handsome gray head dipped modestly, “stands on the mantel above the fireplace in my home. I am very proud of it, but my grandson could have led those men to the Tyrol Cup. If Bern didn’t win last March … well … I’d have needed to give my salary back to the team’s owners.”
“This year has been more difficult. We’ve had some injuries, we’ve made more mistakes, I’ve been slow to recognize things I should have done.”
Walking back toward the team’s training facility, Bossard acknowledged many fans, signed an autograph for two American men wearing new Bern gear, gave a thumbs up to a police officer who said “Wiederholen” as we passed. “Everyone wants that – to repeat – to win again six weeks from now. I believe this last month will reveal a team ready to win again.”
I mentioned a series of somewhat unremarkable outcomes this season: a home loss to Grenoble and narrow wins over down Zurich and Vienna clubs.
He nodded at this. “Yes, we had no lulls last year, no Saturdays – even those two losses – when we thought we could be pressed or beaten. But we have five matches left. I believe you will see the resolve of Champions. It’s time to define ourselves.”
This was said with confidence. As he raised a hand in farewell, he added, “We are in a good position to make the 2–3, and I would rather lead my team onto a Meadow than any other group of men. They’ll know what to do.”
We parted then, and the next time I saw Bossard, he was indeed leading his men onto the Armed Bears’ famed Meadow. This afternoon, Bern won 6—0, their point total kept in check in part because Mule Brunner missed most of the second half after an ankle knock removed him from the game just five minutes into the 43, though that decision came only after Brunner’s obvious argument to continue playing was denied by Bossard and the team physician. Brunner never wants to be anywhere but leading the Bears’ offense, of course, but his absence – and a fine showing by the Bargemen Gates – kept his personal tally down to 4 points, a number which will not help him in any effort he can muster to retain the Klammer Medal.
But that strong backline – the Moser brothers and the massive Otto Von Steiger – looked playoff ready. And the Hungry Jackals cut down any Italians that those three expert Gates may have missed. This was a tough, immovable, determined group of men.
I am not a betting man, but I’d advise those of you who are to not overlook the Champions.
Innsbruck, Austria – By Zino Stiles-Johnson – Correspondent for TSS
I am determined to attend a match hosted by each team in the Original Eight during Season 154, and I had the delightful task of traveling to Innsbruck – the capital city and heart of the Tyrol – to reach my seventh town of those exalted eight founding clubs.
On Saturday, I made my way – along with 3 or 4 thousand others – to St. Anne’s Column in Maria-Theresien-Straße, where the most ardent supporters of the Downhillers gather before they hike down to a Meadow where this 8th team to form has been playing since November 1872. The Wheat League is having a season well worth watching; after Saturday’s results, and with four matches remaining, the three teams leading the standings are the three members of the Original 8. While they may stumble over the final month of games, it seems likely that two of Aggsbach, Klagenfurt and Innsbruck will promote to the Alpine League – in a year when three of the O8 are in the Tyrol and the other five are in the top three in the Alpine or Wheat Leagues.
“It’s a grand feeling to believe we will win every Saturday,” said Liselle Bachmann, a teacher at a Volksschule in Innsbruck, as we talked together an hour before the First Bell would initiate Innsbruck’s match against middle–of–the–pack Leoben. “Otto Lanner has grown as a player, Andreas Straub is like an oak tree in the back, and Anton Trenker … ahh … he is a dream,” Bachmann opined, voicing what many female fans of the team think of the tall, blonde–haired, blue–eyed Farmhand. His appearance aside, he has been a dream forward for the Downhillers; he leads the Wheat League in scoring and is one of the reasons Innsbruck leads the Wheat in +/-.
Leoben is a hard–working but uninspiring side, and while that may be a fine tribute to a team called the Miners and the brave, yeoman work that profession demands, on this day, the visitors lacked the spark needed to get past a home team energized by a massive crowd of 15,000.
On this day, Trenker’s running mate, Simon Braun, was the leading scorer, and his 4 mid-way through the 43 pushed Innsbruck to a 25—16 lead; Als Brezl’s 3 and a late kick brought the score to 25—20, and that decision lifted the Downhillers to 9—5—0 and, at 27 points, leaves them trailing their O8 brethren, both on 30 points. If a tie–breaker bubbles up out of this race, the Downhillers have a slim lead over Aggsbach in point differential.
In the next three weeks, Innsbruck faces Passau, Mulhouse and Sankt Moritz, which is a manageable challenge. In Week 18, they host Aggsbach. No, the Wheat League is not the Tyrol League, and every team not in the Tyrol aspires to that top tier. But as far as the end of Season 154 goes, the race in the Wheat League promises to be as exciting as it gets.
Thank you for a festive day, Liselle Bachmann, the town of Innsbruck and your exciting Downhillers team.
And, Aggsbach – I’m headed your way soon.
Munich, Germany – By Thill Brenner – Correspondent for TSS
Three seasons ago, the Munich Lederhosen, 11-6-0 and tied for third place with the Salzburg Edelweiss, hosted the Bern Armed Bears in their final game of the season. At stake for the ‘Hose, owners of the tiebreak against the Edelweiss by virtue of sweeping their season matchups, was a spot, with a win, in the 2-3 game. Not since 2018 had Munich made the playoffs, when they were beaten by Innsbruck, who was subsequently rolled by the 2017 defending champs Villach, defending their title in dominating fashion while surrendering a meager 4 points as they captured their 7th Cup. And it was three years prior to that when Manager Sebastian König and his boys hoisted the last of their 9 Tyrol Cups (5th most in the Austrian League). So, history was not lost on the boys in black with the yellow trim across their shoulders and around the bottom of their shorts. They knew too well an 18th game of this magnitude does not show itself every season. The first match against Bern was a 7-6 thriller that Bern won on a brutally physical skot from their Center Gregor Schneider in the 83rd minute, so Munich knew that it was going to take 83 minutes, or more, for them to earn their spot in the postseason. Unfortunately for them, Wing Jurgen Hawksteader and Gate Bruno Simon were both lost to injury within the first 9 minutes, and things got only worse after that. When the teams shook hands in the middle of Munich’s beautifully patchy and trampled Meadow, the Armed Bears had dashed the home team’s hopes, whitewashing them 16-0. As Salzburg won their final match later that afternoon, the ‘Hose missed the 2-3 game by those 3 precious points.
I recount that piece of AL history to ease into Munich’s fortunes since that March day in 2023. Two seasons ago, they escaped relegation to the Alpine League by a mere point, the beneficiaries of a Kitzbühel loss in match 18 where they came up just 5 points short of switching places with the Lederhosen. Last season they lost 5 of their last 6 to finish 7 points below 9th place Matterhorn – their 4 wins the fewest for the pride of Bavaria since 2002 – and were saddled with relegation and the embarrassment of owning the worst +/- of the entire Austrian League at -124.
This walk down misery lane brings us back to the weathered and brown Meadow where once again Munich is fighting for their lives. Beneath the shadow of those 9 Tyrol Cups, the ‘Hose, today in their yellow Deckes with black numerals and that familiar crest directly beneath the Adam’s apple, host the Red Greens from Zillertal, themselves a point closer to the Wheat League with only Interlaken holding them up. Both teams suffered losses last week, and neither was interested in continuing that unpleasant trend this chilly and damp Saturday. Zillertal has their hopes in Schleissman Riggo Zippe (more on him in my PoW segment below), who has scored at least 8 points in three consecutive games and, according to Manager Jan Dexmauer, had his best practices of the season this week. Munich will rely, once again, on its big three of Hawksteader, Holzinger, and Schmitt, whose combined 25 years of experience include that exciting but unsuccessful 2018 match in week 19.
As play progressed toward the middle of the opening 40, each team appeared reluctant to make the first mistake. The offenses were reserved and truncated, eschewing the possible for the practical. The defenses played the averages and beat the house most every hand. At the interval, little had been different in the second 20 as from the opening 20, and the score leaned slightly in Zillertal’s favor, if only 3-2.
The 43 was back and forth, and back again. Schmitt caught a nice ball and put up a 3. Johannes Au answered from his right Wing slot and pushed the Red Greens lead back to 7-5. But a skot from Schmitt after a poorly handled pitch by Zillertal Center Lukas Vogl, followed by a diving 4 from Center David Nolan had the ‘Hose out in front at 12-7, which felt like much more as the rain began to fall. It was then that König went all in on stopping Zillertal and preserving his lead over the remaining 11 minutes, swapping out Schleissman Ule Unger for Gate Sigi Pfeiffer. The offense had done its part, and with the field conditions getting sloppier, each fan in black and yellow could feel the tide as it began to turn.
Funny thing about that tide, sometimes a stronger force can overcome it and have its way. That’s what Munich experienced over the final 6 minutes. As they exerted their collective force on their visitors from the south, not 2 hours by train, the Red Greens seemed to use that energy and convert it into power more explosive than its original. Those legs, the rights in red and the lefts in green, seemed stronger and swifter than they had been all afternoon. Where ‘Hose lost their footing, the cleats of Zillertal stayed true and secure. At first it was 12-11, as Vogl redeemed himself by carrying three defenders across the Tor line for a 4. Munich, now desperately needing to advance the ball and deplete the clock, could do neither. And as every fan stood and watched, most pleading for that fickle tide to help them out, and wondering why seconds last so long, Zillertal’s Zippe carried the ball, and then carried it again. And after his third run, he could go no further, nor did he need to. His 3, with :03 showing on the clock, secured 3 points for him and his mates and lifted them to third from the bottom of the Alpine table, momentarily safe from the fate of relegation.
Four games remain. Munich has much to play for. But wins are needed, or they’ll find themselves even further from the glory of the Tyrol League. I expect König to respond as Germans are prone to. This final month won’t be easy, not for the Lederhosen, and certainly not for their opponents. Let’s see how things stand come our next full moon.
PLAYER of the WEEK:
Abrahams: Felix Moser / Gate – Bern. Moser receives his second Player of the Week recognition of the season (Thill Brenner chose him as well, for his Week One exploits) after a commanding performance in the Armed Bears’ 6—0 victory over Brenta. In general, one expects Italian defenses to be the most airtight on a typical Saturday, and the Burci were smart and stout. But an impressive 21 times, Moser was the first man to make contact with a Bargeman offensive attacker, and only rarely did he not bring his man to the turf. Further, he knocked down a surprise Brenta throw, and twice he fell on a careening ball that was eluding recovery on a damp, slippery Meadow. A cluster of supporters, standing outside the dressing rooms and hoping to have game programs and other paraphernalia signed by players as they emerged after the match, called to me: “Harold! I think you have your Player of the Week!” and the like. One cheeky fellow suggested, “Mr. Abrahams, you can’t choose Lackner every time!” to a hail of his mates’ laughter. Well, faithful and wise–cracking fans of the Armed Bears, you were right: Felix Moser is my Player of the Week.
Stiles-Johnson: Bingo Allerspach / Farmhand – Füssen. As with our Special Correspondent’s choice above, Bingo Allerspach collects his second Player of the Week award from TSS for Season 154 after inspiring the Triskelions to a 25—12 win over Trento with two 4s and a long 3, run in from his own side of midfield. This 3rd consecutive win lifts Füssen into a tie with a mystifyingly poor Vienna team (though their 5—9—0 record and 3rd loss in a row does not deserve comparison with the 1980 team that lost 11 straight in the Tyrol League and were dubbed, by one TSS wag, the “De-Composers”). As for Allerspach, his now total of 79 points not only catapults him into 3rd place in the Klammer Medal competition, but it means he is only one point short of having scored more than half of the Skels’ 159 team points. Players accomplish that feat on occasion, but it often reveals an imbalance that holds a team back – even as it reveals an individual’s talents. Allerspach has an uncanny ability to score 3s and 4s, yes, but if the Triskelions want to do more than scrape out another season in the Tyrol League, they must find more help for their star Farmhand.
Brenner: Riggo Zippe / Schleissman – Zillertal. I spent considerable ink above chronicling the battle to escape 9th place in the Alpine League. Munich bathes in history, celebrating 9 Tyrol Cups, managed by a legend who won 5 Cups as a player and a sixth as player-manager, and was most recently ranked as the 8th greatest Austrian League player ever. Zillertal possesses one Cup, albeit from 1892 and the third ever won by a non-O8 team. They have spent only a dozen years or so in their history battling in the Tyrol League, and this year are teetering on dropping down to the Wheat. Such is why Zippe earned my nod this week. In a battle for inches and feet, Zippe earned the only skot of the opening half. And after Munich had pulled away into a larger than it appeared 5-point lead with only minutes to play, Zippe ran interference, sacrificing some skin, and maybe part of his beard, as Center Vogl drew the Red Greens within one. And then with 3 ticks remaining on the clock, Riggo bruised and barreled his way into the corner of the goal, securing the victory for a team that’s been close but not close enough too many times this season. There’s no Tyrol Cup in their near future, but that doesn’t make it any less promising with Zippe on the Meadow.
ONE FINAL NOTE:
Abrahams: Fulpmes and Oberammergau are two teams tucked away in 4th and 5th places, respectively, in the Harvest League. They are a long way and, realistically, many years from reaching the Tyrol League. Oberammergau has lifted the Tyrol Cup – 42 years ago – and has made occasional forays into the top division, while Fulpmes has spent a total of four seasons in the Alpine League … but has never played in the Tyrol. Yet, these two teams produced what must be declared the match of the week – or month – last Saturday in Fulpmes, a village of 4500 people in western Austria. The central fact: the Hammers and Anvils won 2—0. Some other facts: the Troupers should have prevailed, given their dominance in possession and positions on the field. The H&As said the Troupers should have won. Fulpmes could not hang onto the ball. They played for three minutes with only 9 men on the field – not through injury – but merely because no one noticed that they were undermanned! But, as Swiss writer Fredrick Grimaud wrote in his 1994 book The Fickle Gods of Wiesespiel: “sometimes the cruel deities over-seeing the action on Meadows across central Europe decide that this day, they prefer the team in red over the team in blue. Or, the team in green over the team in gold.” And this day, in the most bizarre of matches, Fulpmes won 2—0 because Center Alfred Pilz attempted a kick from only 12 yards out and clearly – as in everyone in attendance knew it – hit the ball with the outside of his boot … and it was going to miss badly … until Oberammergau Gate Merten Mayer put a hand up to block the kick. The kick caromed off Mayer’s left hand and, now re–directed, hit the crossbar of the goal … bounced into the air … and tumbled over the bar for a 1—0 home lead. Before the 40 ended, Trouper Schleissman Diedrich Feldt tried a kick of his own … and a breeze turned into a gale for perhaps 6 seconds – and it stopped the ball’s progress toward the goal; the ball fell short. Witnesses there said it was not to be believed. Apparently, Oberammergau should have left at halftime and avoided their further doom at the hands of those “fickle gods.” The only other point that day came because of a perhaps even more strange play than the other: Fulpmes Wing Dietmar Aichinger – the player of the match – crossed into the 4 as Pilz tried a rare throw to him; Trouper Lock Jörgen Jung tipped the ball out of the air; said ball fell toward the ground … but Aichinger slipped his right boot under the ball before it hit the grass, and the ball sprung off his foot and just cleared the goal’s cross–bar for a point. Aichinger offered an embarrassed look, shaking his head in disbelief, and Jung laughed and shrugged. 2—0 Hammers and Anvils. Given that the Gods of the Meadow Game had determined that the visitors from Germany were destined to lose this day, it may as well have been 202—0.
Stiles–Johnson: Week Fourteen. There are two notable developments in the Scoring Table as we update it since Week 12 (remember, you can see expanded and up–to–date statistics in all offensive and defensive categories every day on the TSS website; not only the race for the individual scoring title every two weeks!). The leading story is that Paul Lackner – short of a recurrence of his ankle injury earlier this season or some other unforeseen circumstance affecting his play – has widened his lead in the scoring table significantly and virtually locked up his third Klammer Medal. Further, by scoring 14 points in Week 13 and another 7 at Grenoble in Week 14, he reached the 100–point barrier for the 5th time in his very young career (bad news, every other team which may have to play the Edelweiss in the next few seasons: he’s only 23). The highest total the Field Mouse has ever accumulated was the 141 he amassed in Season 151 – when he was 20. At 100 points with 4 matches remaining (and averaging 7.4 points per game), breaking his own Salzburg team record may be out of reach, but I won’t be the writer to say I doubt Paul Lackner.
The other development worth mentioning here is the meteoric leap up in the table made by Füssen’s Bingo Allerspach. After Week 6, the Triskelion Farmhand was not in the Top Ten in scoring and was averaging fewer than 5 points a game. After Week 8 …: 10th place, at 35 points – still scoring well under 5 a game. Week 10: tied for 9th at 4.2 PPG. But in Weeks 12, 13 and 14, Allerspach scored 14, 8, and 11 (the highest individual total in this stretch with 4 more points scored than Lackner’s 29) to jump to 6th after Week 12 and now, in this week’s update, to 3rd place. One consequence of his outstanding play is Füssen’s only stretch of success this year.
When I was younger, while I ate breakfast, I would peruse TSS – the paper when it was available in my house, the website when my father had taken the paper to read on the train into work. Tables of statistics was TSS’s daily love letter to me. I am certain thousands of you had similar excitement in seeing those columns of numbers in the distinctively tidy (and small) font TSS employs. Here’s to hoping many young readers are discovering this same joy.
And now, the latest table:
Brenner: As one can see below from my quick capture of a slice of a map of Europe, the adventures of a TSS correspondent are vast and exciting, if equally challenging and exhausting. It has included short hops like the ones from Bern down to Zermatt and Biel/Bienne up to Mulhouse. It has also included many hours on trains from Grenoble to Eisenerz and Eisenerz to Aarua, somehow managing to squeeze in stops at the TSS offices and even a night’s sleep in my own bed at home. But I say all of that to say that all of those criss-crosses on the map, the days and weeks of travel, the restaurants and pubs and hotels and club cars, are even better than I could ever have imagined. My dreams as a kid, wearing my Klagenfurt decke, and my training at university, all have come together to bring me to this place. No, not Kochel or Aarua or mighty Munich – not a place on a map. To this place, in time and destiny. I, as you do, dear reader, cherish Wiesespiel, the Austrian League, the hallowed Tyrol Cup. Even as my mentor, the elder Abrahams, reminds us of history and accolades and historic feats in victory and defeat, as my cohort Stiles-Johnson tracks the ebbs and flows amid those perfectly detailed scoring tables, the play on the Meadow remains the star of the day. Those men, mere mortals – dads, brothers, sons and laborers – pursue perfection and a form of immortality, at least to the likes of you and me. Next week, you will find me in Pontarlier. Or is it Schwaz? When I get there, I’ll know. And I’ll let you know. Me, and the thousands there with me, doing what’s been done for 154 years now and, Lord willing, will continue for another 154 more.
