Kevin Kampl's Journey from Bundesliga Star to Majorcan Farmer

The Champions League lights have long since faded for Kevin Kampl. These days, his arena is a sun‑baked field in Majorca, not a roaring Red Bull Arena in Leipzig.

It’s a jarring contrast. The same midfielder who once threaded passes through Bundesliga midfields now walks between rows of melons and tomatoes, talking about olive oil instead of xG.

From Dortmund and Leverkusen to Leipzig legend

Kampl’s story has always been a little different. Born in Germany but representing Slovenia at international level, he built a solid, respected career in the Bundesliga. Greuther Fürth gave him a platform, Bayer Leverkusen and Borussia Dortmund raised his profile.

Leipzig, though, made him a symbol.

He arrived in 2017 and stayed until 2026, an ever-present as the club grew from ambitious upstart to established Champions League regular. Eight and a half years in modern football is an eternity. At RB Leipzig, it made him part of the club’s fabric.

For supporters, Kampl wasn’t just another midfielder. He was a constant. A metronome in the middle of the pitch. A player who seemed welded to the Red Bull Arena turf.

Which is why his sudden exit at the start of 2026 hit so hard.

A year torn apart

The decision to walk away wasn’t about form, fitness or a contract dispute. It was about grief.

Kampl’s brother died in Slovenia. Months later, his father passed away as well. Two losses in brutal succession, the kind of blows that strip away the noise and glamour of professional sport.

The 35-year-old simply couldn’t carry on as if nothing had happened. In early January 2026, he sat down with Leipzig and agreed to terminate his contract. No long farewell tour. No carefully staged goodbye match. Just a clean break from a life that suddenly felt impossibly distant from what he was going through.

He later summed it up starkly: he’d had a “pretty s*** year – there is no other word for it.” No dressing it up. No attempt to soften the reality.

Football, for once, had to step aside.

A new life under the Majorcan sun

So where do you go when the stadium lights go out?

For Kampl, the answer lies in Majorca, on land rather than grass. Not as a retired star dabbling in a hobby, but as a working farmer.

“We have honeydew melons, watermelons, tomatoes, onions, peppers, and plenty more,” he told Bild, sounding more like a market trader than a former Champions League regular. “They all grow like crazy here. The olive oil we make here tastes delicious.”

The change is drastic, but deliberate. He talked about the “peace and quiet” of the island and how much it has helped him and his family as they try to process everything that has happened.

Life, he said, “has to go on, even though it has been very difficult to accept everything that has happened.” The fields have become a kind of refuge. The rhythm of planting and harvesting replacing the rhythm of training and matchdays.

It’s a different kind of pressure now. No league tables. No transfer rumours. Just weather, soil and time.

Leipzig still feels like home

Yet Kampl hasn’t cut the cord with his old world.

“I always keep up to date with what RB Leipzig are doing, and I’ll continue to do so,” he said. He still sees himself as part of the club’s story, even from a distance. Majorca might be home for this chapter, but Leipzig remains something deeper.

“I will also be in the city a lot, so who knows what the future might bring.”

Those words hang in the air. They don’t promise a coaching role or a boardroom position, but they don’t close the door either. For a player who called the Red Bull Arena his “living room”, it’s hard to imagine he won’t be back in some capacity.

When he announced his departure, his message to the fans underlined just how much the bond meant to him.

“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.

“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.”

That last line matters. In a club often criticised for its corporate image, Kampl’s connection with the supporters felt real, almost old‑fashioned.

Now, somewhere between the rows of melons and the olive trees in Majorca, a former Bundesliga stalwart checks Leipzig’s results and wonders what comes next.

The boots are hung up. The tractor keys are in his hand. But with a player so closely woven into Leipzig’s rise, the real question is not why he left football – it’s whether football, and RB Leipzig in particular, will one day call him back.