Where Kampl was, there was the game. Sometimes right, sometimes left. Often outside. So there was at least a bit of movement there. Otherwise the grass could grow in peace. Was there a side game ban? Apparently. Was there an always-through-the-middle bid? Apparently. It was precisely there, however, that Freiburg showed that milk from Breisgau has the power of the Gallic magic drink.
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The SC as a bricklayer’s association. As far as the calves reach. RB amazed – and froze. The game got the charm of a fun brake. Barren as bland, unimaginative as hopeless. Was there a half or even a three-quarter shot on goal in an endlessly long 80 minutes? No idea.
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Above all, there was a lot of ball possession as a completely unprofitable art at RB – and Massel for the SC. Although the stable squad only doggedly made the spoilsport. She just didn’t want to play. She only wanted to be seven in the penalty area. That was tactic. RB pouted – and adjusted his game, switched to slow, dozy, awkward. No rushing, direct pass and quick passing. The right side remained stone dead, which one suspected with the first cast even before kick-off. Henrichs came far too late – and Kampl left far too early.
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Norbert Wehrstedt has been known to the readers of the Leipziger Volkszeitung for three decades as a sometimes sharp-tongued film and television critic. “By the way” his heart beats for RB Leipzig. In his matchday column “Norberts Einwurf”, the journalist proves that being a fan and critical support are not mutually exclusive.
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