11/06/2025
My European Football Pilgrimage: From the Heart of the Game to the Soul of My Passion
Some journeys aren’t just taken—they are felt.
This one was not drawn on a map but carved in my soul.
From Berlin to Munich, from Stuttgart to moments beyond the scoreboard, I lived a summer drenched in footballing emotion. This wasn’t just about attending matches. It was about being part of something greater: the magic that happens when football meets the human spirit.
This is my story—of chants and cheers, of tears and triumph, of legends and love.
DFB-Pokal Final | Olympic Stadium, Berlin
VfB Stuttgart 4 – 2 Arminia Bielefeld
A night of tradition, triumph, and silent heartbreak
At the majestic Olympiastadion, history and emotion collided. The DFB-Pokal Final was more than just Stuttgart vs Arminia Bielefeld—it was legacy vs longing.
Stuttgart, with its Bundesliga steel, showed their class with a 2–0 victory. But Bielefeld’s journey to the final was a story of belief, hope, and resilience. Standing pitch-side with German football icon Dietmar Beiersdorfer, I saw up-close the raw emotion of the losing side and the pride of the victors.
The Arminia fans didn’t go quiet. They sang louder, through tears, waving their flags in love rather than loss. It was a powerful reminder: in football, sometimes the soul wins even when the scoreboard doesn’t.
UEFA Champions League Final | Allianz Arena, Munich
Paris Saint-Germain 5 – 0 Inter Milan
A coronation in blue and red
Munich became the center of the footballing world as PSG lifted their first UEFA Champions League title, decimating Inter Milan 5–0 in a night of dazzling dominance.
The Allianz Arena turned into a cathedral of celebration. Parisian fans lit the sky with flares, tears, and chants. Strangers embraced. Flags flew. Generations cried together.
It wasn’t just a final—it was a release. Years of heartbreak washed away in one glorious night. And I stood among them, swept up in the emotion, humbled by the unity football can inspire.
UEFA Nations League Semi-Final | Germany vs Portugal | Allianz Arena, Munich
Portugal 2-1 Germany
Where history was written and my heart stood still
Few nights come close to this. A rollercoaster clash where Cristiano Ronaldo, ageless and fearless, led Portugal to a dramatic 2-1 victory over the hosts Germany.
His goal was a masterclass in timing and technique. But more than that—it was a declaration: I’m still here.
Yet, what made this evening unforgettable was my time in the UEFA VIP Zone. There, I had the immense honor of meeting DFB President Bernd Neuendorf. Warm, insightful, and deeply passionate about German football, our brief conversation meant the world to me.
And then came a moment that lives forever in my heart—I touched the UEFA Nations League trophy.
Cold and gleaming, it felt like destiny in my hands. A symbol not just of victory—but of my own journey. I closed my eyes. I breathed it in. And silently, I thanked the game that had given me everything.
also witnessed President Bernd Neuendorf’s meaningful interaction with Pedro Proença, President of the Portuguese Football Federation – a powerful moment reflecting commitment to collaborative development in football across Europe.
A personal highlight – meeting Mats Hummels, one of German football’s most iconic figures, at the UEFA VIP Zone. His humility and presence reflect true sporting greatness.
Celebrated this magical night with my friend Kay Dommholz, DFB's Director of Media Rights, and my brother Arunava Mitra , TCG Digital's Head of Europe.
From world-class football to meaningful moments with football’s top leaders – this night celebrated everything I love about the beautiful game.
UEFA Nations League 3rd Place Showdown | MHP Arena, Stuttgart
France 2 – 0 Germany
Mbappé’s milestone and the fans' unwavering love
This wasn’t just a third-place match—it was a showcase of spirit. Kylian Mbappé, reaching his 50th goal for France, dazzled with a solo strike of genius, guiding Les Bleus to a 2–0 win over Germany.
Stuttgart’s MHP Arena was alive. French fans roared in ecstasy. But it was the German supporters who brought tears to my eyes—they never stopped singing, never stopped believing. Their love was unconditional.
I saw kids with painted faces, elders waving scarves, and thousands rising in respect for their team. It wasn’t about results anymore. It was about belonging.
UEFA Nations League Final | Allianz Arena, Munich
Portugal 2 – 2 Spain (Portugal win 5–3 on penalties)
A legend’s tears. A nation’s anthem. The heart of football.
And then came the crescendo. The final match. The night of nights.
Portugal vs Spain.
A thriller. A war of wills.
Spain scored. Portugal responded. Again Spain surged. Again Portugal stood tall. The 90 minutes ended at 2–2—but the story was still being written.
In the penalty shootout, Portugal were flawless—5 perfect strikes. Spain faltered once. That was enough.
Portugal were champions. Again.
But the real magic wasn’t in the medals. It was in the man: Cristiano Ronaldo.
At the final whistle, he didn’t cheer. He dropped to his knees. And he cried—tears of pride, pain, and pure passion. At 40, perhaps in his final major final, Ronaldo had given his heart again. And his country had given theirs back.
Then came the chant.
From every corner of the Allianz Arena, it rose—louder, fuller, unified:
"CRISTIANO RONALDO! CRISTIANO RONALDO!"
Over and over. Thousands of voices. Flags waving. Children shouting his name. Elderly fans crying. It wasn’t just a chant—it was an anthem. An offering. A thank-you to their king.
Ronaldo stood, hand over heart, his eyes glassy, his soul full. He looked at the crowd—not as a star, but as a servant of the game. In that moment, he belonged to all of us.
This Game. This Life. This Love.
In Berlin, I witnessed resilience.
In Munich, I touched glory.
In Stuttgart, I saw loyalty.
In again in Munich —I found myself.
This wasn’t just a football trip. It was a spiritual journey through the beating heart of the world’s most beautiful game.
Football didn’t just entertain me. It embraced me. Inspired me. Completed me.
And I return home not with photos or tickets, but with moments tattooed on my soul.
Because in the end, we don’t remember scores.
We remember how football made us feel.
