MR. BLUE SKY
Fandom: German National team
Disclaimer: I still don't know people mentioned in this story and I still hope it isn't true. The plot is still only my fantasy
Summary: Between friends...
Author's notes, previous chapters and music here
Timeline for the series is here
Mr. Blue Sky
In a small restaurant where heavy braids of golden onions are hanging from the walls and big wooden chairs are warm and comfortable it is crowded and noisy. It’s this time of day when always welcome customers are drinking their beer and chat with friends after the day’s work, or enjoy the food that is plain but tastes like home. Pretty waitress in checkered skirt is smiling, maneuvering between the tables with heavy-laden plates, and a bartender, short balding man in his fifties, is sharing jokes with everyone in sight.
Jürgen is busy with his roastbeef, a fork and a knife in his hands looking almost as a deadly weapon as he cuts himself another piece of meat. He has a black jacket on, and a blue t-shirt under it, and he is smiling a smile of a brawler, dangerous and beautiful at the same time.
Rudy is making a short work of his pasta and another glass of beer. He’s looking maybe a bit older than he should, or maybe just a little tired, which comes as no surprise with a job he has. From time to time he throws quick glances at his friend, and there is warmth in his eyes when he does it.
They’ve talked mostly about families and mutual friends, a bit about football and about Rudi’s work for a while – easy chat to keep the mood while they’re busy eating and more serious things should be left for later.
“So even your mother didn’t know”, says Rudy, putting down his spoon and leaning back in the chair.
Jürgen puts the plate aside.
“She knew. She just didn’t think I’ll dare to go through with it!” And he’s laughing.
“So she’ll have to put a poster of ‘Bayern’ on the wall again?”
“Yes. And I think I won’t hear the end of it for a month at least. And then Horst will add everything he thinks on the matter, and by July the first they’ll be satisfied because they’ll feel they’ve got their point across”.
Now they’re laughing both, Jürgen today is in the mood to laugh and Rudi is too. Whatever they say seems funny to both, someone may even think that they are drunk, though they’re not.
“Should I ask you about these little adventures in
“I owe you an explanation, I know, I know”, Jürgen’s hand freezes for a moment over the beer glass, “but I would prefer if you won’t ask”.
“London? Which London? I know nothing about London!” Retorts Rudi, and Jürgen nods gratefully. “So, who else did know? Vogts, I suppose?”
“So he did. And I know that owe you one”.
“You owe me more than one, for that matter. Vogts then. And if I got his interview correctly, Löw did too…”
“Oh, he did?” Jürgen almost chokes on his beer with laughter. “Oh well… If he says so…”
Rudi is clearly caught off-guard for a second.
”Oh, who are we to doubt the words of our Bundestrainer? If he says he knew than he surely did”
“But you didn’t tell him”, smirks Rudi, leaning closer.
And Jürgen just smiles.
“So, how did he know if you didn’t tell?”
Jürgen looks at him solemnly. “Well, maybe he’s had…” He tries for a conspiratorial whisper, but starts laughing in the middle of a phrase, “had… a vision?”
“A vision?” Rudi shakes his head, bewildered.
“A vision”, nods Jürgen, not even batting an eyelash.
It’s a beautiful smile, bright and almost tender, gentle and with an air of innocence. Jürgen has won many people over with this smile alone, caring and open… and just beautiful.
Rudi knows better, and most of Jürgen’s friends have learned it too – some even learned the hard way… This smile can shatter every question, and when Jürgen is smiling like that it is impossible to make him tell what he really thinks. The best way of defense, impenetrable and graceful.
Rudi shrugs and just leaves it be, like he always does in such cases. There’s no point in fighting with a brick wall anyway, and who cares about Löw? Though it’s funny in a way, and maybe he’ll get the answers… And that explanation too. Maybe.
“So, a vision then”, Rudi smiles. “And what about our Guido, Hope he didn’t become a visionaire all of sudden?”
“Guido?” A bit of hesitation, a hint of joking tone, and Rudi suddenly has a strong suspicion that the joke about visions will be repeated, but it seems like Jürgen thought better of it. “If he says he knew – it means he did”. And it sounded almost convincing.
It makes Rudi sit straight.
“What is wrong between you and Buchwald?”
“Wrong? Rudi”. And here it is. Fluttering of eyelashes, soft smile. “How did you get this nonsense into your head?”
Jürgen is a clever man – that’s what Rudi thinks while watching his friend, - but he should have understood long ago that fro everyone who really knows him this smile alone is an indication enough that he’s not saying the whole truth.
“You dare lie to me”, Rudi even makes his voice threatening.
“Not a thought, Rudi. There’s nothing wrong”.
But Rudi just keeps looking him in the eyes, long enough to make Jürgen answer in a serious tone.
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong, Rudi. Really”.
“And if I ask Guido?”
“He’ll tell you just the same, and then will throw you out for doubting my words or whatever else he is wont to do now”.
“He’d better save his strength for Uli Hoeness”, fires Rudi back without a pause.
“Uli will never doubt my words, he’ll just contradict everything I say”, shrugs Jürgen mockingly.
“And what will you do?”
“I? Don’t know… But now, there is a plan…”