Kevin Kampl: From Bundesliga Star to Majorcan Farmer
On Champions League nights, when the cameras pan across the line-ups and the anthems swell, it’s easy to forget there are lives behind the floodlights. Contracts. Grief. Families.
Kevin Kampl knows that better than most.
The German-born midfielder, who chose Slovenia at international level, built a career that felt rooted in the Bundesliga. Greuther Fürth gave him a platform, Bayer Leverkusen and Borussia Dortmund sharpened his game. But it was at RB Leipzig where he truly left a mark, anchoring the club’s rise and staying long enough – from 2017 to 2026 – to be spoken of as a club figurehead rather than just another signing.
For eight and a half years, the Red Bull Arena really was his living room. He said as much when he walked away.
“Dear fans, first and foremost, I would like to thank you for the eight and a half wonderful years that I was able to play here. You gave me a home,” he told Leipzig supporters when his departure became official. “I felt so comfortable from day one, also with my family. It [the Red Bull Arena] was my living room. You have always had my back. We have celebrated successes, we have overcome lows – but always as a unit. I am extremely grateful to you for always seeing me as one of you.”
Then, suddenly, it stopped.
In early January 2026, Kampl and Leipzig reached an agreement to terminate his contract. No transfer saga. No farewell lap with a scarf held aloft. Just a clean break from the only world he had really known as an adult.
The reason cut far deeper than football.
Kampl had suffered a double tragedy in Slovenia: first his brother died, then, just months later, his father also passed away. The losses came too quickly, too brutally. The 35-year-old, a player defined by his ability to keep tempo in midfield, found he could no longer keep pace with the demands of the game.
He chose to walk away. Not to another club. Not to a quieter league. Away from professional football altogether.
Today, instead of pressing high up the pitch or threading passes between the lines, Kampl is tending rows of crops in the Majorcan sun. He has traded matchdays for harvest days, boots for soil-stained shoes, the roar of the Red Bull Arena for the low hum of rural life.
“We have honeydew melons, watermelons, tomatoes, onions, peppers, and plenty more,” he told Bild, sounding more like a seasoned grower than a man barely out of the Bundesliga. “They all grow like crazy here. The olive oil we make here tastes delicious. I have had a pretty s*** year – there is no other word for it.
“Life has to go on, even though it has been very difficult to accept everything that has happened. But the peace and quiet we have on Majorca has done us all a lot of good.”
It’s a stark image: a player who spent years navigating Champions League midfields now walking through fields of melons and tomatoes. Yet there’s a logic to it. Football, for all its glamour, offers little shelter when real life hits this hard. The rhythm of training, travel, and games can feel relentless; grief rarely keeps to that schedule.
On Majorca, Kampl has found space to breathe. To process. To build something with his hands that has nothing to do with tactics or table positions.
He hasn’t cut the cord completely, though. The club that became his home still tugs at him.
“I always keep up to date with what RB Leipzig are doing, and I’ll continue to do so. I will also be in the city a lot, so who knows what the future might bring.”
It’s a line that lingers. A hint that the story between Kampl and Leipzig may not be finished, even if his playing days are. Perhaps one day he returns in a different role, carrying with him not just the experience of title races and European nights, but the perspective of a man who has stepped outside the game and learned how quiet, and how precious, life can be without it.
