There is also a nice story from April 9, 1966. Austria received FC Bayern Munich as part of the Easter tournaments at the Vienna stadium . In the penalty area, the trained toolmaker Nemec lifted the ball soulfully over the astonished " young" Emperor Franz Beckenbauer and hit the leather volley to make it 1-0 for the violets. 45,000 spectators tore it from the wooden benches, Austria won 3-0 in the end.

The “profi l” editor-in-chief Reinhard Tramontana wrote, among other things, in his obituary: “ There might just be a few Schinakels cruising around in the opposing penalty area - but he, Horstl Nemec, was the aircraft carrier ...!” A bear of a man, a powerhouse on the pitch, feared by the opposing goalkeepers, but the soul of a human is gone far too early.

The footballer Horst Nemec died at the age of 45 as a result of his alcoholic illness. Even during his sporting career, the Austria striker had to struggle with plenty of hip gold, which he had not only accumulated from hearty home cooking but also from the wrong drinks. As with most addicts, Nemec was also rooted in a psychological problem: The Viennese suffered from hypochondria and fidgeted up and down before every game: “He was so nervous at bigger matches!” Says colleague Walter Glechner. "He trembled and was a real nerverl."

Right from the start of his career, the native of Rudolfsheimer suffered from false self-perception: the big, fast Nemec was a lion who thought he was a carpentry tiger until his teammate Johann Riegler made it clear to him that any defense feared an attacker like him. Riegler talked the "bolt" Nemec strong and when he finally believed in his abilities, he scored like on the assembly line and was called up to the national team. Off the pitch, however, Nemec's self-doubts could not be eliminated so quickly: the striker was constantly complaining about ailments and could not handle the pressure of professional business. His colleagues, coaches and the team doctor tried to support the player as best they could, but he only knew one tool:

There is no herb for fear - unless you burn it and bottle it. Horst Nemec tried this recipe well enough. One thing led to another: in the 1960s, he opened an espresso as a second mainstay on Gumpendorfer Straße and became his best customer: His fear of injuries, of his own failure and the many regulars who wanted to toast with a well-known footballer led the way to the fact that the player had a proper cup. Accordingly, it increased quickly. Nemec had always been a strong striker, but now his weight made him slow and immobile. His heyday at Austria, where he was the shooter king three times and the champion and cup winner just as often, was long a thing of the past. In 1966, Nemec hired Vienna. His career in the national team was over, nevertheless he wanted to give his career an appealing end. Vienna coach Alfred Körner believed in the Viennese and was firmly convinced to bring him back into shape. However, Körner soon had to realize that Nemec could only lose weight with professional help. He sent him to Lower Austria for a detoxifying Mayr cure. The Vienna FC fitness coach commuted towards the Hohe Wand every day to train with Horst for two hours off-tour. When Nemec had put on four kilos after a week of chewing hard rolls, however, Körner went wild: He extended the player's stay and commissioned the fitness trainer to do espionage: At the next meeting, he said goodbye to Nemec as usual, but did not return to Vienna, but rather pushed around in the Lower Austrian market town. Night fell and nothing happened. At around 9 p.m., the Vienna employee asked a resident he met if there was a quiet guesthouse nearby where he could spend the night. The lady reacted angrily: For a week there has only been noise, roaring and grilling stink: Goodbye sleep! The fitness coach made his way back to the hotel in amazement and a short time later witnessed the evening activities that went against the grain of the lady and the entire place. In fact, towards the late hour in the hotel there was a funny celebration and dinner. There was plenty of alcohol going around and some of them were quietly roasting chops and grilled sausages: When the fitness trainer saw Horst Nemec in the group, he stepped in, yelled at Nemec,

Needless to say, the therapeutic fasting did not bring the desired success: Nemec returned to Vienna in worse condition when he left. He didn't even begin to get back on track and soon had to hang up his football boots. From this point on, the Viennese concentrated - in the truest sense of the word - entirely on his espresso and lost the battle against his addiction.