tirsdag, november 29, 2005
FOOTBALL
Yep, we reached the cup final for the first time in thirteen years. At the stadium I even met an old friend of mine, who works as a security officer at the national stadium. Everything seemed sunny and promising, and we were playing a supposed inferior team. We'd finished fourth in the league, whereas Molde, our opponents, escaped relegation by the skin of their teeth.
We have, officially, the best fans in Scandinavia. Lillestrøm is a small town outside of Oslo with just over 15,000 inhabitants. Our average attendance is nearly 8,500. Do the math; where else in the world can you find a football club who, every week, has half the town going to the stadium to support it? Probably nowhere.
Anyhow, back to the match. I will post some more pictures of the cup final at my earliest convenience - these I all took myself. That's Lillestrøm on the left in the yellow jerseys.
A set piece situation. There were plenty of them as, which the picture below amply demonstrates, the pitch conditions were far too poor to actually attempt playing football on. Instead of a good game of football, all we got was 120 minutes of wrestling, which suited Molde a lot better than ourselves.
Life's not long enough to be bitter. We lost the final, 2-4, after extra time. If you've never experienced losing a cup final before - especially, I suppose, at a time when your team hasn't won a trophy for 16 years - the feeling can best be described as being stabbed in the eyes. It still hurts, four weeks later, and I suspect the feeling won't pass quite yet.
Yep, we reached the cup final for the first time in thirteen years. At the stadium I even met an old friend of mine, who works as a security officer at the national stadium. Everything seemed sunny and promising, and we were playing a supposed inferior team. We'd finished fourth in the league, whereas Molde, our opponents, escaped relegation by the skin of their teeth.
We have, officially, the best fans in Scandinavia. Lillestrøm is a small town outside of Oslo with just over 15,000 inhabitants. Our average attendance is nearly 8,500. Do the math; where else in the world can you find a football club who, every week, has half the town going to the stadium to support it? Probably nowhere.
Anyhow, back to the match. I will post some more pictures of the cup final at my earliest convenience - these I all took myself. That's Lillestrøm on the left in the yellow jerseys.
A set piece situation. There were plenty of them as, which the picture below amply demonstrates, the pitch conditions were far too poor to actually attempt playing football on. Instead of a good game of football, all we got was 120 minutes of wrestling, which suited Molde a lot better than ourselves.
Life's not long enough to be bitter. We lost the final, 2-4, after extra time. If you've never experienced losing a cup final before - especially, I suppose, at a time when your team hasn't won a trophy for 16 years - the feeling can best be described as being stabbed in the eyes. It still hurts, four weeks later, and I suspect the feeling won't pass quite yet.
