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The fizz went out of football for a lot of fans in Salzburg, thanks to an energy-drink billionaire. In this update, Paul Joyce reports on the lower-league alternative to a team drained of its colour

The acquisition of SV Austria Salzburg by Red Bull owner Dietrich Mateschitz in April 2005 reduced the 1994 UEFA Cup finalists to a mere marketing trinket. “There is no tradition, no history, no archive,” stated officials of the renamed “Red Bull Salzburg”, who initially claimed that the three-time national champions had been founded in 2005. The violet-and-white colours in which the team had played since 1933 were jettisoned in favour of the red and blue of the energy drink’s tin cans. “I can’t play with a purple bull if the brand is called Red Bull,” Mateschitz stated bluntly.

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Some people are never happy – take Bayern Munich. Dominant at home but toothless abroad, the German champions have taken out their frustration on Owen Hargreaves, as Karsten Blaas reports

When Bayern Munich secure yet another Bundesliga title, mostly with two or three games to spare, the players gather in the centre circle after the final whistle to celebrate. They start jumping up and down and wave at the crowd. One of them, usually Hasan Salihamidzic or Bastian Schweinsteiger, produces a large glass of wheat beer, a Bavarian speciality, and pours it over somebody else’s head. Oliver Kahn clenches his fists and grits his teeth at the supporters and throws his gloves into the crowd. After about 15 minutes, the players gradually disappear into the dressing room. It’s a dull procedure, probably even for those who feel affiliated to the club.

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Friday June 9
Possibly because Barry Davies, the last man who could take these things seriously, is missing, the BBC only show highlights of the opening ceremony. It includes lots of men in lederhosen, some ringing large cowbells attached to the waistbands of their shorts in a vigorous and vaguely pornographic manner. There’s a parade of former World Cup-winning stars, including what Jonathan Pearce describes as “The legend that is Italy”. “Ricky Villa – still tall,” gurgles Pearce later. Pelé arrives with the trophy, but brandishes it like he’s just won it, followed by Claudia Schiffer with Sepp Blatter in tow, sporting luxuriant sideburns that give him the look of Ben Cartwright from Bonanza.

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Having beaten England, Portugal found themselves within a game of the World Cup final. Phil Town captures the mood in Portugal

Speaking some time back at a conference on motivation, Luiz Felipe Scolari told the story of his first days with the Selecção in 2002. He got the players together and asked them to imagine the team as a truck and to consider what part of the truck each of them thought they represented. He found that what he had inherited from António Oliveira was a truck with four drivers and a wheel missing. Six months later, the same experiment came up with just two drivers and all the wheels in place.

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The team were still a letdown, but England had more winning ways off the pitch, to the relief of Philip Cornwall

Six years ago, at Euro 2000, I was on the point of giving up on England. I had the masochistic streak needed to cope with events on the pitch, but not what came with it for much longer: the sullen contempt for anything and anyone who wasn’t English that radiated from so many of the team’s followers even if they weren’t expressing it in word, song, action. Some of these people seethed in their sleep.

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