Wednesday 1st June 2016 ko 20.00
Division 4 Södra Stockholm
HÄGERSTEN SK 0
SEGELTORPS 2 (Dalakis 33 Borsen 47)
Att 56 at Hägerstensåsens BP
I’ve long since admitted to a love affair with Sweden, 15 trips in 10 years is proof positive of that, but I’m coming to the the conclusion that there’s something of the missionary in me too. When the car travelling to Gatwick Airport contained regular travel companion Sim, his brother Adrian, and my girlfriend Robyn I suspected my influence had been greater than I’d thought!
I wanted them to get a real taste of Stockholm so we based ourselves in Gamla Stan, Stockholm’s old town, then took the metro or in Swedish- T-Bana, to Södermalm, Stockholm’s achingly hip southern suburbs. Now I know “Meatballs-For the people” a short walk from Medborgarplatsen T-Bana station is about a hipster as it gets without compulsory beards, but it does offer a wholesome meal, with an interesting beer to wash your reindeer meatballs down with.
It also had the advantage of being in the right area for the Hägerstensåsens BP, just take the Fruängen branch of the red line to Hägerstensåsen station and you can see the ground from the platform! There’s even a corner shop to stock up on supplies as there’s no catering at the ground.
I picked the game as this 6th tier game was the highest level being played that evening. The ground I wouldn’t have picked as anyone’s first ground in Sweden, there’s no cover and the facilities are basic to put in mildly. But it was a warm night, the steps were comfortable to sit on, and everyone seemed happy to entertain us! That extended to referee Jesper Fredholm who was happy for me to copy down the team line-ups as long as I took his picture! Jesper, I’m always happy to help!
The game was everything I could have possibly hoped for, for my party and I. Good crisp passing football played at a fast pace, and Segeltorps were just that little bit more proficient in the end.
We made our way back to the T-Bana station and as is my way I moved away from the others. They were all tired, we’d left Oxford at 4.15am, but the smiles and the chatter spoke more than mere words could. Sweden was weaving it’s spell, just as it had with me all those years ago.