A Final Farewell to Robert Enke

By: Jan | November 16th, 2009

Eight days ago I tried to read up on African Champions League winners TP Mazembe, while keeping an eye on the game between Hannover and Hamburg. It was a frustrating experience, because I had to realize that neither my multitasking, nor Hamburg’s ability to defend a lead was quite up to the challenge. Robert Enke took care of the rest, denying Ze Roberto to put the game beyond doubt. I toyed with the idea of Enke joining Hamburg on a free transfer in the summer. A no brainer, if it weren’t for the fact that Hamburg’s keeper Frank Rost is keen to add another year to his career and contract – something he certainly deserves as well. Enke, on the other hand, would be both available and an improvement over Rost and would mean, Hamburg needn’t worry about their keeper for at least five years. Enke was always very highly rated, but a transfer could have boosted his international reputation and his chances to win titles. A win-win situation. I figured you could find ways to respectfully deal with Rost, while still signing Enke. Then I got back to work.

I was fully engaged in my typical football fan mindset.

Three days later my mind was someplace else – or the same place turned numb and sad. Teresa Enke had given a remarkable press conference. Under tears, she openly talked about her husband’s struggle with depression for the past six years, his anxieties and self-perceived failure. In another press conference Oliver Bierhoff announced that the friendly between Germany and Chile had been cancelled. I always thought of Bierhoff as that squeaky clean superficial marketing guy, who had turned Germany’s Euro campaign into a mountain tour and is sure to turn South Africa into a safari, trying to manufacture emotions around a common theme for sponsors to exploit. When he broke out in tears it was real.

I kept thinking about a former classmate of mine. Philipp moved to our high school for the last three years leading up to graduation. He had been at our school once before in fifth and sixth grade. He hung around with a group of friends then, who all eventually moved schools, cities or countries. When he came back he became a loner. We all had settled down in our cliques – not actively seeking new members. He was a nice and friendly guy – calm and quiet. When he talked, you sometimes had to fear he might stumble over his own words. He was an average student, neither excelling or failing in a particular subject. He did a lot of endurance sports. When we organized the renovation of the recreation room for the pupils, he was one of only two who volunteered to help out. He would pop up at parties here and then. We moved along with him in the background. He wasn’t bullied or made fun of. We greeted him with a friendly smile in the morning or said goodbye by noon, asked him for a pen or about homework and we ignored him. It wasn’t until our prom, that we learned what a great piano player he was. He received standing ovations and then we said goodbye and went our separate ways. Our high school organizes annual reunions around Christmas with the usual suspects showing up each year. Philipp only stopped by once. He sat a bit outside of the pile. I spotted him talking to another classmate of mine and walked over to him. The first thing I noticed was the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket and was surprised that he had started smoking. He talked about his social anxiety and the therapy he just completed. His openness and honesty with which he talked about his “flaws” and “weaknesses” was striking. It contrasted heavily with the setting. With people presenting a selective image of themselves – one which is about achievements and plans to achieve something and not about failure. I wondered whether I should ask him, if he’d like to hang out for a drink or go to the cinema sometime. I thought it might be tacky or apologetic. I thought he might not be interested anyway. I feared awkwardness. I wondered what my friends might think. I wasn’t really keen on the extra effort. I kept my thoughts and invitation to myself. Six months later I received message that Philipp had committed suicide. I was shocked and devastated. I kept going over the last time I met him again and again. I talked a lot with my friends from school, with each of us trying to contribute little bits of information. His mother and sister both had cancer, but they were recovering. I learned about depression as an illness and not something used to describe the eccentricities of a rock or movie star. We couldn’t come up with any answers, and the picture was only marginally clearer. All the talking helped a lot though.

I aimlessly surfed around the net. Articles kept repackaging and publishing the same few pieces of a very incomplete puzzle over and over again. I read about the death of Robert Enke’s two year old daughter Lara, his adopted daughter Leila, his time at Benfica, his struggles at Barcelona, his return to form at Hannover, his sanctuary for dogs and his friendly and humble character. Only a few stood out. I knew most of these things already. The best parts were usually written in the comment sections under the actual articles with people coming together to express heartfelt condolences, talk about their own struggles with depression or how they lost a friend or loved one under similarly tragic circumstances. The odd sick tasteless remark and joke made sure, I wouldn’t forget I was still on the Internet.

Yesterday, one week after leading his team mates onto the pitch as a captain in front of a boisterous sell out crowd, Robert Enke returned to Hannover’s stadium one last time. The place was packed again as people gathered to mourn and say their goodbyes. Robert Enke was later buried in a private ceremony next to his daughter Lara. His burial was a final farewell and a signal that slowly but surely life will go on. The match between Germany and Ivory Coast will take place on Wednesday. Hannover travel to Schalke on Saturday. There is the distinct wish and need though, that life won’t just return to its’ former rules and rituals. A lot has been written to raise awareness of depression, to remove its’ stigma and to pledge for a better way of treating each other. Theo Zwanziger, the chief of Germany’s FA, announced that they want to get involved to help the cause. A lot less if anything will be written, said and done about it in two weeks time. After Philipp had died, we also eventually returned to our lifes. We had a new experience burned into our minds. But, nothing had changed except for those closest to him. The big question, with a potentially sad or encouraging answer, is, whether one year from now it will be any different for Robert Enke?