Until 12.19 p.m. on Sunday it’s: Ralph against Alan, Berlin against Weinheim, man against gravity – or woman against lack of air. The German championship in underwater hockey in the new Freiham swimming pool is about to end, but the champion has not yet been chosen. The teams are sitting on benches around the 25-meter-long pool, the main referee is standing in front of the tournament director’s table, holding the signal button in her hand so that the game can be interrupted if necessary – when suddenly an unusual signal echoes through the muggy, warm swimming pool air: the fire alarm. While the twelve players climb out of the pool and the 100 participants in the tournament make their way outside in their bathing suits or pants, the question remains whether this interruption will still have any sporting effects?
The Slovenian Alan Kucar, 44, in the service of the leader of the table, Sport Taucher Berlin, was lying half an hour earlier on the tiles next to the pool, the red imprint of the diving goggles still on his forehead. He runs his fingers down his mustache and says, “Underwater hockey is about air economy and gravity.” He is a software developer and is slowly getting out of the best water hockey age, but his team is still leading the table before it goes straight to the Marlins, one of three Munich teams. With a win Kucar and Co. can win the second championship in a row.
Berlin finished the first half of the season in Hanover in November as clear leaders, but there were surprise defeats on Saturday and now it’s off to third-placed Munich. Kucar gets up, picks up his utensils, i.e. bathing cap, diving goggles, snorkel, flippers and bat. The latter looks a bit like a mini machete, only harmlessly wide and made of plastic. Kucar will soon be in the water at the front of the pool, alongside five of his teammates, waiting for the signal to start, after which both teams will send their fastest swimmer to the one-and-a-half-pound puck, which is centered on the bottom of the pool, in two and a half meters deep.
Standing at the edge is Ralph Cahn, a sort of icon of German underwater hockey, coach of the youngest team in the eight-team tournament. Cahn explains the most important rules: You can only play the puck with the 30 centimeter long stick together with the forefinger and thumb. Whoever shoots the puck at the three meter wide and 20 centimeter high bar, which is fixed to the floor at both ends of the pool, has scored a goal, which the two referees indicate in the water with both arms stretched out. A game lasts eight minutes twice.
Organizer Ralph Cahn.
(Photo: Claus Schunk)
At kick-off, the fastest player from each team swims to the puck in the middle.
(Photo: Claus Schunk)
With outstretched arms, the referees indicate a goal.
(Photo: Claus Schunk)
At that moment, the referee whistles. The electric buzzer attached to the water, which emits a kind of mini ship’s voice, is only needed when the players are underwater. So kick-off, Munich against Berlin, Kucar disappears. And under water it’s a completely different number.
This game can only be viewed from outside the pool, resulting in a goal celebration being delayed until the first player is back on the water surface. Or you dive in, which only coaches, referees and players are allowed to do. In this case, exceptionally, also photographer and reporter. And down there, the game for the championship sounds almost like a horror film: you can hear your own breathing, the sound of water rushing, plus the clicking when players play the puck with their stick. Like now the fastest Munich player who reaches the puck, takes it in the small club and turns. Pass back to the teammate, surface, take a breath, follow the game through the glasses from above, anticipate the course, dive down, intervene.
So air and gravity. It’s one thing to play the puck, to guide it across the floor into open space. However, it gets exciting when, in addition to a tactical build-up, a player cannot keep the puck indefinitely. When the Munich team first attack, this leads to the situation, which is strange for underwater hockey amateurs, that initially seven players fight for the puck, but then all appear while two swim down from above. Munich is first on the ball, a duel, five meters from goal.
How much air does the player have left on the puck? And how much the defenders?
(Photo: Claus Schunk)
Constantly up and down again.
(Photo: Claus Schunk)
“You can’t hinder the opponent,” explains Cahn, “at most you can push them a little.” And above all, you can only shoot the puck up to four meters under water, so swimming paths are less important than running paths. But just the air economy.
The Munich striker wins the duel, plays the puck into the goal, 1-0. Fouls always put Munich back in possession and the score was 2-0 at half-time. “It’s like ballet,” says Cahn, “only with rocket propulsion.” Next to him is Austin Moore, 43, captain of the other Munich adult team, and says: “It’s the worst spectator sport in the world.” It is most popular in Australia, New Zealand or France.
Referee Nicole Patel flew in from London.
(Photo: Claus Schunk)
The Marlins Munich didn’t quite make it to the German championship this time.
(Photo: Claus Schunk)
In the end, Berlin loses 0:4. Alan Kucar, one of the best players of the tournament according to hockey icon Cahn, says with a shrug: “There were only nine of us, then someone got injured and some good players were missing.” Munich was simply better. Wherein? “In principle, you always have to think more about one dimension than in other ball sports. And above all, you have to know at all times how long your teammates and opponents can stay under water.” That’s why it doesn’t really matter if a team plays with more than the two prescribed women. It’s more about strategic thinking than strength.
And, of course, about calling up its performance, even after a fire alarm. Weinheim around Captain Ralph Weber manages to do that, wins the last game and becomes champion. And if the pool wasn’t lined with tiles, but with glass and stands behind them with high-resolution underwater cameras, then it wouldn’t say Weber, 32, an IT specialist by profession, but: underwater hockey professional.