Trains, Petri Dishes and a Struggling Sea Lion Join Football’s Dubious Oracles

The sea lioness Hilla from Leipzig Zoo, Germany aims for a goal with Scotland and German marked balls Thursday June 13, 2024, where she predicted that the two teams will play out a draw during their opening match ar the start of the Euro 2024 soccer championship on Friday. (dpa/AP)
The sea lioness Hilla from Leipzig Zoo, Germany aims for a goal with Scotland and German marked balls Thursday June 13, 2024, where she predicted that the two teams will play out a draw during their opening match ar the start of the Euro 2024 soccer championship on Friday. (dpa/AP)
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Trains, Petri Dishes and a Struggling Sea Lion Join Football’s Dubious Oracles

The sea lioness Hilla from Leipzig Zoo, Germany aims for a goal with Scotland and German marked balls Thursday June 13, 2024, where she predicted that the two teams will play out a draw during their opening match ar the start of the Euro 2024 soccer championship on Friday. (dpa/AP)
The sea lioness Hilla from Leipzig Zoo, Germany aims for a goal with Scotland and German marked balls Thursday June 13, 2024, where she predicted that the two teams will play out a draw during their opening match ar the start of the Euro 2024 soccer championship on Friday. (dpa/AP)

Spare a thought for Hilla the "oracle" sea lion from Leipzig Zoo, whose reputation for football prophesy is hanging by a thread after she predicted Scotland would hold Germany to an unlikely draw at Euro 2024.

Had she not watched the two sides? Did she know nothing of football history and Scotland's repeated failures at major tournaments? Seemingly not and the 5-1 thrashing dealt out to Steve Clarke's side by the hosts has called Hilla's soothsaying credentials into question.

No major football tournament would be complete without a host of fortune-telling animals but surprisingly, or perhaps not, not all of these "oracles" turn out to be very good.

Hilla has since regained some respectability by correctly predicting Germany would beat Hungary, a result that immediately elevated her above Oobi-Ooobi, another Leipzig based clairvoyant, in the oracle league table.

Poor Oobi-Ooobi, a koala who looked less than impressed to be hauled in front of a camera to do his soothsaying, was a designated oracle at Euro 2016, but just couldn't catch a break. Forced to choose between eucalyptus leaves in containers bearing the competing countries' flags, he got it wrong every time.

Of course, like all oracles, it is possible that their messages are just misunderstood.

When the Oracle at Delphi famously told Croesus, King of Lydia, that if he waged war on the Persians he would destroy a great kingdom, he was delighted. A kingdom was destroyed, but it was his own.

So when Hilla, who seemed equally comfortable with both her left and right flipper, knocked the German and Scottish balls towards goal, she could just have been predicting a second-half consolation for the Scots and not the unlikely draw her keepers assumed.

There were no such excuses for Suzie, a 15-stone (95-kg) pig who tucked into a clearly-labelled bucket of food bearing an England flag, shunning Italy, when asked to predict the Euro 2020 final result.

Suzie clearly did not think that Gareth Southgate's side would retreat into their shell after taking an early lead or consider England's terrible record in penalty shootouts if it was all square after extra time.

There was also Mani the parakeet, whose early good form at the 2010 World Cup ended in disappointment with semi-final and final failures or the animals at Chemnitz Zoo who were wrong on all of Germany's group-stage games at the same tournament.

Anyone who thinks the phenomenon of non-humans predicting football results has gone too far has clearly never been to Switzerland where psychic gut bacteria determined incorrectly that the Swiss would beat Scotland on Wednesday.

Yet in another blow to Hilla's credibility, some E. coli bacteria in Germany managed to predict that the hosts would beat Scotland in the tournament's opener.

Germany's trains may have occasionally struggled to cope with the hordes of fans at Euro 2024, but this hasn't stopped one operator in Hamburg entering into the true spirit of an international tournament -- using a train to punt a football into a goal to try to predict the outcomes of matches.

So it seems that for every Paul the Octopus, the trend setter whose uncanny divinations during the 2010 World Cup alerted every PR department in the world to the human appetite for implausible animal seers, there are countless less impressive pets, trains and even petri dishes.



Beauty Salon Near Ukraine Front Offers Brief Respite from War

Maryna Skromnaya didn't think twice about making the 40-minute to the salon. Genya SAVILOV / AFP
Maryna Skromnaya didn't think twice about making the 40-minute to the salon. Genya SAVILOV / AFP
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Beauty Salon Near Ukraine Front Offers Brief Respite from War

Maryna Skromnaya didn't think twice about making the 40-minute to the salon. Genya SAVILOV / AFP
Maryna Skromnaya didn't think twice about making the 40-minute to the salon. Genya SAVILOV / AFP

Maryna Skromnaya was ready to face shelling and explosions to get her hair done at a salon in Pokrovsk, the eastern Ukrainian city under intense Russian attack.

"I need to stay beautiful rather than run around looking like Baba Yaga!" she said, referring to the mythical forest witch who feasts on children.

Her blue eyes now framed by a fresh bob cut, the frail 57-year-old stood up from the hairdresser's chair and flashed a peace sign in a brightly lit mirror.

The salon's roaring trade exemplifies how thousands of Ukrainians living in partially deserted and shelled-out frontline towns are trying to cling to a sense of how things used to be, AFP reported.

Its pristine white-walled salon is a rare pocket of normal daily life in Pokrovsk, even as Moscow's forces less than 10 kilometers (six miles) away, are closing in.

The mining city was home to 60,000 people before Russia invaded.

Its population has plunged from around 48,000 to 16,000 over the last month, according to the authorities, who are urging all residents to leave.

Skromnaya was preparing to heed that advice, but wanted to savor a few final moments at home.

That included a haircut at her favorite spot, even if it meant a 40-minute walk to get there.

"Public transport? You may as well lie down on the floor waiting for it. It's gone," said Skromnaya.

'Always something exploding'

"You can always start walking, turn your music on, go feel beautiful," she said.

But venturing outside in Pokrovsk these days is perilous.

"There were bangs here, bangs there, there's always something exploding," Skromnaya said, waving her arms left and right.

Inside the salon, the buzz of hair clippers and blow dryers barely covered the thuds from the front line, some seven kilometers away.

Facing increased Russian bombardments, the authorities have ordered residents to stay inside their homes for 20 hours a day.

So would-be customers were constantly rushing in, pleading for a slot in the narrow window between 11:00 am and 3:00 pm -- outside the strict curfew.

"Look at me, I look like a bum!" one man joked, lifting his cap to reveal a slightly uneven cut.

Salon worker Natalya Gaydash shook her head apologetically. He didn't have an appointment.

The team was doing its best to squeeze in as many clients as possible.

"The war is not a reason to just lay down and die with your hair undone, your nails unclipped and dirty," said 32-year-old Gaydash.

The salon will stay open as long as the Russians are far enough away, said owner Ludmila Kovaleva, who opened the place five years ago.

"How can you stop going to work if people are waiting for you?"

'Empty soul'

"People come for a slice of positivity," Gaydash said.

"Some come to share their problems ... others share a bit of joy with us."

Feeling fresh and handsome after his trim, 54-year-old Yury Chaplygin beamed, revealing a few golden teeth.

"There's a good atmosphere, you can drink coffee as you wait for your turn," the locomotive driver said in a deep voice.

The few remaining workers from a nearby market, now mostly closed, hustled round the salon's coffee machine, sharing gossip for a few minutes.

Another beauty salon just round the corner, owned by Kovaleva's sister Iryna Martynova, recently shut its doors.

"Clients used to get served by my sister, then go see me, then go back to my sister just like on a merry-go-round," Martynova said wistfully.

But people stopped trickling in after the evacuations stepped up in August.

Martynova's salon is now empty, save for a few shelves covered in blue plastic wrap.

The door was cracked in a recent shelling attack.

"This is not normal, and with every day that passes it's getting even more abnormal. I've already made up my mind, I'm leaving," Martynova said, tearing up at the thought of having to start all over again.

She was taking some comfort that her former clients, now spread all across Ukraine, have already started calling her to see where she'll go and if they can make a booking.

"This is my life's work, my favorite job. I'm left without it. My favorite clients, I've known them all for years. Now my soul is empty."