Last summer, Dynamo Dresden declared stadium influencers and vloggers persona non grata, and the news was met with widespread approval by many. True fans, lovers of hard-hitting, pure football – for what that’s worth these days, and however subjective the definition may be. “Vlogging? Not at Dynamo” – in short, no vlogging at Dynamo – that is the message from the German club, currently in the second division. For commercial reasons, given that those affected by the measure were often monetising their content – perhaps by showcasing clothing or technology brands – thereby breaching the rights agreements between Dynamo and the media; and for reasons of atmosphere, respect and the quality of the experience: “Many supporters wish to enjoy the stadium experience without cameras or constant filming in the immediate vicinity”, a sentiment that is becoming increasingly widespread, according to Dynamo – a club promoted from the third tier at the end of the 2024–25 season and boasting a large, passionate and visually striking fanbase, which last year had almost become fashionable to celebrate. And where there is a trend—for which the clubs (at least those not expressly invited by content creators) and the supporters bear no blame—it is inevitable that those seeking to capitalise on it will emerge.
In March, Ben Paul, a hugely popular YouTuber, was forced to leave the Dynamo stadium after being subjected to abuse whilst filming a video. The incident came just a few weeks after an initial meeting between club officials and supporters in which the issue had been addressed. Threats, perhaps not, and there are also bizarre situations such as a recent Instagram post in which a Bayern fan’s flag bearing the ‘no mobile phones’ symbol appeared alongside two… smartphones taking a photo of it, but it is clear that the growing presence of influencers is a real problem for those whose view of football is far removed from selfies with “guys, look where I am!”, which shift the focus (and the ‘collabs’) from the subject of the video to the self-referential subject filming it. Worse still, in the eyes of purists, is when they wear the club’s shirt, donned only for the time needed to film. Hertha Berlin, the ‘Alte Dame’ (Old Lady) of German football, which plays at the superb Olympiastadion. However, some time ago, Hansa Rostock – a club from the far north-east now in the third tier – had already moved to discourage, rather than outright ban, such social media excesses: which obviously does not mean that photos or videos cannot be taken, but that one must show respect for those in the stadium and, if anything, use the images for an educational post. It is even better if the image shows the pitch and the stadium rather than the photographer’s face. This best practice is followed, for example, by members of a group that only very rarely overlaps with that of influencers: groundhoppers – an English term referring to those who ‘hop’ from one stadium to another – a tradition born out of ‘doing the 92’, i.e. watching at least one match in all 92 Football League stadiums, even though Premier League teams have not formally been part of it since 1992.
Groundhopping is an increasingly widespread practice, but one carried out mostly in private and in a spirit quite different from that of influencers: often, it involves seeking out football far removed from trends, where supporters seem to have known each other for ages, where the home team wears their first kit without feeling the need to explain its design with nonsense jargon, and where children wear that kit rather than the Paris Saint-Germain one – a third kit doesn’t even exist. While a fanzine called Groundhopping Informer already existed a few decades ago, there are now apps that allow users to ‘check in’ at matches and keep track of them: the most popular is Futbology, created by the Norwegians Geir Florhaug and Lars Erik Bolstad, which shows that the German Andi Bruck has attended 14,534 matches and that another German, Jens-Uwe Hanssen, has attended at least one match in 9,218 stadiums.
Among the Italians is Daniele C. from Milan, aged 52, known on Instagram as casciavit74, has visited 487 stadiums: and there would have been more had he not skipped a few “because I would have arrived just before the match and it would have been like watching live TV, whereas I need to immerse myself in the atmosphere, stroll through the neighbourhood and check out the local haunts, perhaps with some memorabilia”. Although there’s a risk of generalising, this captures the general spirit of groundhoppers, who often travel alone and discreetly to better savour the experience and avoid spoiling it for the home supporters. And never mind if it may seem contradictory to detest so-called modern football and then, thanks to the ‘fragmented’ TV schedule that modern football itself has produced, be able to watch three or four different matches in a single weekend – matches that would once all have kicked off on the same day at the same time.
