In past years,
When there was an international game,
Who could explain it to us,
Vividly, in detail,
And extremely captivating
Over the radio microphone?
People knew: Han Hollander,
He wore the crown.
Whether the Netherlands played against Belgium
Or Hungary,
When he reported on it,
People were never bored.
Even if one couldn’t see,
They felt a part of it,
Even staying home on Sundays,
They were content.
Even if one couldn’t get tickets
For the stadium,
Listening to him
felt like being in the stadium,
Witnessing all the ups and downs
Of the grand international match,
The tides, going back and forth,
Sometimes calm, sometimes fierce. –
Times have changed,
No international matches
Are offered to us anymore
In these wartime days.
They play a different game
On the battlefronts now,
Clearly not less thrilling,
Clearly not less fierce.
But I find the reports
Much less interesting
Than in Hollander’s days
In peaceful Netherlands.
With Hans’ commentary
Over the radio microphone.
I would have found the events in the East
Twice as captivating.
Watch, the Krauts run,
Look, look, there’s the Russian,
The Kraut has nothing to hope for,
The result is certain.
The Kraut has lost,
His team is exhausted,
You can surely hear,
He’s taken a heavy blow.
The Russian, until the very end,
Conserved his strength,
Scoring one goal after another
With incredible speed.
I find it, dear listeners,
Truly an amazing game,
The Russians are the winners,
The Kraut is in trouble.
And looking to the West,
He wasn’t too pleased at first:
The game lacks action,
It’s dull and doesn’t bring fun.
It surely gets boring,
Far from good,
They can’t play nearly
As well as the Russian does.
You could then hear him yawn,
A droning, snoring sound,
And suddenly Han fell asleep
On the microphone.
But that time has passed,
It’s long gone now,
He would have been pleased now,
As pleased as we are:
Watch, the Krauts give way,
They’re losing their orientation,
Soon it will be evident:
The goal is named: Paris!
But don’t think they’d ever offer
Such a job to Han,
For Han is … not Aryan,
Be happy if he’s still alive.
Post-Editing: Hanny Veenendaal, Nannie Braunstein-Beekman
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