The second gig of the Duran Duran tour was in Copenhagen and Jen and I flew in from Finland a couple of days in advance. I’d not been to Copenhagen for forty years but recalled that the only places we could afford to drink on that occasion were the free brewery tours that included three bottles of their product. Whilst I was grateful for the past generosity, or marketing tactics, of the breweries, forty years of saving up had allowed me to look forward to trying something other than Carlsberg or Tuborg on this occasion.
I may have been a little harsh with Duran Duran as they’ve actually got three songs that are listenable, which is three more than a lot of bands.
Jen wanted to buy some wool from a shop in nearby Roskilde that is well-known in world knitting circles. Roskilde is a short train ride outside of Copenhagen and also boasts a record shop and a church full of dead kings. We picked up an early seventies album from The Trammps which was selected primarily for its double denim with afros band photo on the sleeve.
Sadly, the dead kings weren’t on display, but the tombs that they were in were ok for a short visit, particularly the ones with stone skull carvings.
We were staying in the south of Copenhagen and so could walk to the first game that I’d identified. It was a fifth-tier game described as a relegation group, which is presumably that thing that they have in Scotland, where the league splits into two at a certain point in the season and you play only those teams in your half of the table.
It took us an hour to get there and on arrival we handed over fifty Krones each, which is around six quid. For that we also got a programme included.
The Sundby Idraetspark ground is a century old, but from what I read, the main stand only dates back half that time. There was a small open stand on a grassy bank behind the goal to our right and an athletics track lapped the pitch, although with only three lanes on all but the home straight.
We got hot dogs before kick-off, with the buns an optional extra. They were also serving beer from the same counter, but it felt a little early in the day to start a session.
1908 went into the game bottom of their group, with Greve a little higher and possibly safe from relegation. 1908 dressed up as Fulham with Greve rocking an Everton vibe. The match started five minutes before scheduled and an early goal for the visitors meant that 1908 were trailing even before they were due to have kicked off.
The home team’s day got worse as we approached the half-hour when a defensive mix up left a visiting striker unchallenged and all he had to do was take the ball around the prone keeper and roll it into the net.
For a long time, it just looked to be a matter of how many Greve would score, but with a quarter of an hour remaining, 1908 intercepted a back pass and tucked it away to halve the deficit.
Both sides stepped up their efforts in the final minutes. There were some late tackles and yellow cards. 1908 pushed hard for an equalizer but it didn’t come. The way that the home players slumped to the ground suggested that the result must have mattered to them. Perhaps it confirmed relegation.
Of more importance though was that I’d ticked off a game in Denmark, taking the total number of countries where I’d seen a game to sixty-five. Well done me.
Trail of the Lion King 