M. Beisenherz: Sorry, I’m here privately
Post from Beisi: Dear Boris Becker
Boris Becker has to go to prison. But anyone who was dragged onto television by the poison dart frog Pocher has long since served the maximum penalty, thinks Micky Beisenherz.
It broke my heart to see you like this. In court, in a glass case. Like in a museum. There, the Neanderthal with the club, here the primitive animal with the tennis racket.
Boris Becker sentenced to prison
Homo erectus, homo sapiens, homo victus. The defeated man. You went out there to win the victories for us, just like the prehistoric man once slew the mammoth. Your triumphs were our upright walk. You brought us the fire in our dark TV cave. The Becker who blemished the nation. With you we became Munich, Monaco, Miami.
But the flames you brought us singed your reddish-blonde fur. The Becker fist became a held hand. The ATM is not a Lendl. He doesn’t forgive mistakes. Two and a half years. A whole pandemic.
Anyone who was dragged onto television by the poison dart frog Pocher has long since served the maximum sentence. But the British rule of law does not watch RTL. You are forever the 17-year-old Leimener – juvenile criminal law should apply. You were once our pride, the gorgeous boy. Now we want to smuggle a file into your bread. You didn’t want to be “our Bobbele” anymore, for us you were now “Mr. Becker!” SHE is banned from entering the prison. Oh, if only you had married Steffi. I like you.
In my heart lies an English turf that you will leap across forever. Pike, Bobbele, Pike! Yours, Franz Josef Beisenherz.