The top German idioms for the European Football Championship

German has many different names for the soccer ball. It's called everything from pill to marble, leather, egg, pock or cherry. You'll also hear on the field: "Hau die Kirsche rein, du Pfeife!" which literally translates as: "Kick the cherry in, you whistle!" Even though the referee has the whistle, he's not the one who's being encouraged to score a goal, but rather a weak player.

Many of the soccer terms in German come from the military language of the German Empire when the game was introduced to the country. For instance, the member of the Bundesliga (the national soccer league) who "shoots" (schiessen) the most goals is called the "Torschützenkönig" (goal champion marksman) and is awarded the "Torjägerkanone" (goalgetter canon).

German teacher Konrad Koch not only imported soccer from England to Germany in the 19th century, he also created the vocabulary for it. After all, the terms were originally in English. In 1903, he wrote in his "Regelheft" (rule book): "We'll replace that ugly foreign word 'goal' with 'Tor' (gate)." But that didn't help the German national team in a match against England in 1909; they lost 0:9.

Crafting special German terms for soccer was supposed to make it more popular, as many Germans were opposed to the game in the beginning. They preferred the stricter, more military-like regimen of gymnastics. Many said that the physical movement to "shoot a goal" was "ugly." Gymnastics teacher Karl Planck ranted in 1888 that it was "Fusslümmelei" (slouching or sprawling about with one's feet).

Many of the terms Konrad Koch wrote in his 1903 rule book are still used today in Germany. That's in contrast to Austria and Switzerland, where they use many of the original English terms. While Manuel Neuer is the German "Nationaltorhüter" (national gatekeeper), his Swiss colleague Yann Sommer (shown here in the green uniform of his Borussia Mönchengladbach club) is called "Nati-Goalie."

World champ coach Sepp Herberger once summed up the game: "Das Runde muss ins Eckige" (the round thing has to go into the square thing). And there are plenty of names for the "square thing": a forward scores a "Bude" (shack) or "Hütte" (hut). He may also sink the ball ("den Ball versenken"), shoot past the goal ("verballern") or bang the ball into the meshes ("den Ball in die Maschen knallen").

One may "get the short end of the stick," or have bad luck, but in German, it's a bit more crude: "die Arschkarte ziehen" is literally, "pulling the ass card." Such expressions have trickled into everyday language. In the game, so as not to mix the cards up, the ref often pulls the yellow card from his breast pocket, and the red card from his "butt" or "ass" pocket: hence the expression.

No, the "Spielerfrauen" are not female soccer players. They are the wives and girlfriends of the players, such as Lina Meyer and Cathy Hummels, shown in this picture. It's rather derogatory, reducing the women to being their husbands' sidekicks. It's not much better in English: "WAGs" is the acronym used to refer to the wives and girlfriends of professional athletes.

Here are the real female players: Germany's women's national football team are two-time world champions. Note that the German term for "team," even if it's one of women only, is "Mannschaft" (literally: "manscape"). The quirk of the German language is a reminder of how male-dominated the sport was — and remains — in the country.

A lot of German kids love soccer, and play as often as they can. Many also dream of one day holding hands with a soccer star as they walk onto the field, as the escort kids who accompany the players into the stadium. In German, they're called "Auflaufkinder," which literally translates as "casserole kids" in English — but the verb "Auflaufen" also means walking on a football field, hence the name.

Even if a whole team likely won't fit into an elevator, that is what they may be called in German. "Fahlstuhlmannschaft" (literally, an "elevator team") means one that keeps moving up and down in its division position in the soccer league system — like Cologne's 1. FC Köln, which over the past years descended from the first to second division, and was then promoted back to first division again.

Politicians also like flowery soccer jargon. "We've shot some great goals, but we haven't won anything yet," said German Chancellor Angela Merkel at her CDU party's convention in 2006. Even though Germany was hosting the World Cup that year, she meant her party's politics and not the matches. But cliches can easily turn into "own goals" (Eigentor schiessen), meaning "shooting oneself in the foot."