In 2007, I tried to establish a musical group called ’BoldKlub 7’. Lack of six other members meant that I was never able to bring to light such lyrical gems as ‘Ain’t no [sic] party like a BoldKlub party’. This does not stop me signing this little ditty on an irregular basis with dreams of taking the band to a mixed football seven-a-side tournament and sweeping all before us. I would be Bradley. I would still be more than willing to resurrect this potential behemoth of modern music if anyone is willing to join.
Mosaic function. Thanks WordPress.
Anyway, it was with the words of potential BoldKlub 7 hits in my head that I made my way to Valby for the recommencement of real football in Denmark. After four and a half months of wandering through a desert of football, I feel like Jesus as he stumbled from his 40 days in time to catch his local heroes, Bethlehem United. I also have a beard. I am probably not the messiah (just to clarify).
In those four and a half months, many things have happened. I have not shaved. I have not seen the sun. I tried to watch a game of handball. I discovered that Magnum ice creams call Belgium home. That was about it. It has been a fairly dull few months.
But those months of bleakness are slain to the annals of history, to be replaced by a spring of turpitude. A spring that commences with the visit of the Bronshøj bumble bees who you may remember from Tarnby. (There is a bowling alley in Tarnby. I am terrible at bowling)
As a reminder for those who are or were confused by the vagaries of the Danish third division, pre-Christmas the division was split into three leagues broadly corresponding to the geographical areas: Jutland, Fyn and Copenhagen and Copenhagen. The top four of each of these leagues of eight goes in The Champions’ League (sans anthem) with the bottom four being consigned to Børnholm (Denmark’s Fiji) for eternity or something like that. Each team carries forward the points awarded in the games against the other three teams progressing from their league. Frem take forward 11, which sees them in second place and dreams of promotion are appearing on the horizon. Five other KBH teams also made it through (in no way a surprise given that a minimum of four were guaranteed), but means that plenty of close away trips alongside a glamour tie to Jutland (Denmark’s sticky out bit or Denmark’s pig farm or where Legoland is).
But for this weekend, it is a return to Valby Idrætspark.
Some flags on the first day for almost 6 years without wind in Denmark
Over the winter break, it transpires that some people have actually been reading this blog other than my Mum and we were invited to join the Paulis Rødder fan group for a few pre-, mid- and post-game drinks. However, Gy was too hungover to move and I turned up too late to interrupt so our party with them would have to wait until our trip to Jutland in a couple of weeks.
How Frem did not win this game I do not know. They hit the woodworkthree times, had a couple more cleared off the line and dominated the ball for long periods of the game.
The team certainly looked fresher than the pitch at Valby after a period of solitude (read lack of football) comparable to that of a Colombian novelist. The pitch did not help the game and looked like it had been freshly ploughed (which is a little surprising given the relative mildness of the Danish winter, but I suspect if will flatten out with a bit more sun over the next few weeks).
Brønshoj celebrated like they had found a massive pot of honey at the final whistle. And so they should…
Probably the most exciting 0-0 I have seen for a while.
Nice bit of artwork