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KARLSTAD.
He disappeared into the corridors of reeds, to lie and lie longer.
Old Joel’s spear is out of reach.
White, grey, brown, gritty, cold—in short, bad and generally unfavorable weather, that is—Karlstad welcomed and I obviously had my doubts.
Is it you or Kanevka in disguise on the Kola Peninsula?
Once in the arena heat I recognized myself, Kjell Glenert was watching from the rooftop, Sven Ingvars was pouring from the myspys volume speakers and then Roger Johansson walked in with a snuff prize so big it was probably the snuff prize that passed with Roger Johansson.
Great, in the future.
8,000 people stretched their scarves in the air and sang as loud as they could to give their team as good a chance as possible to give them (them!) more opportunities to sing.
The referee released the puck, and the home team intended to go out because the home team usually goes out in Karlstad, but it was a mistake, in a way.
Frölunda’s pressing game was good, Färjestad got a bit out of the box and found no rhythm at the start and when Frölunda scored 0-1 after just three minutes and 0-2 after six it was frustrating.
Theodor Linström made his way into the penalty area, Remy Ellie made his way there, Joel Lundqvist stood in front of goal like a live pinata that the Färjestad players tried to slot a hole in and Frölunda shot the crossbar from 0-3.
Find the latest must-haves out of Färjestad
The first period witnessed heat, in terms of the number of goals that the match ended with in the second half, but the match calmed down, feeling that two tired teams met and exhausted, and when Varjestad came out in the third period to chase the score 2-2. Puck There was no cream left.
Eric Borg made it 1-3 when he took an over-the-blue puck, slapped it on his chest and swept it.
The shot wasn’t a direct shell, but Matt Tomkins was half asleep and reacted a little late and was careless with the seal.
It looked like the 1-3 goal sucked the last straw out of Färjestad, who made no last offense feeling serious.
Now the season is over in Karlstad, and it’s not unusual for snow to stay on the ground longer here than it does in Färjestad at the SM Finals.
When was the last time that happened?
Perhaps Leif Burke could review his father’s diary.
On top of the semi-finals, on the other hand, Frölunda and the team that traveled to the region are celebrated with Sven-Ingvars-trall.
“Hå hå yes yes, hå hå yes yes, Frölunda wins in Karlstad ida”.
I have never confirmed it, but according to the information, it was Joel Lundqvist who stood in the dressing room before the match and gave the last speech before landing.
– He said this is not the end.
– It’s not even the beginning of the end. But it may be the end of the beginning.
In his 169th playoff game of his 17th season in his 20 season, he worked hard across the court as usual, killing more time in the final minutes of the game than a “what happened this week” trot could do in the waiting room in front of the crowd’s office. dentist.
Sure, he looks older sometimes, especially towards the end of the games when he’s pumping and scurrying around across the ice, like a snow trade.
Slippers wait for the white smoke
Lundqvist was close to putting one in the open box with seconds left, but it really wasn’t for Joel to direct the puck from such close range, into an empty target.
It’s more that Joel didn’t hit the puck because he was tired and it didn’t matter anyway.
With Frölunda even further into the play-offs, their captain’s last match has been postponed to the future, and now the club doesn’t have to announce a secret meeting tomorrow, and the citizens of Gothenburg don’t have to sit back and wait for white smoke to billow from the chimney over Mats Grauer’s parade ground at Sodra Wagen.
There will be at least four more matches, and when I asked Roger Ronberg in the post-match press conference how he should now prepare his team given the tight schedule, it got messy.
Frölunda’s coach wanted to rest for a day, start watching the opponent and then practice a bit the next.
Someone pointed out that it was then about a match, and Roger dug up a shelter in his daydreams and crawled towards it.
Since he couldn’t know what day it was today, he couldn’t know what day it was tomorrow, and from there we didn’t get any further because the question asked by Aftonbladet’s most exhausting sports journalist since Nic Åslund came home from the Ice Hockey World Cup In Prague in 1972.
It’s the playoffs, and of course it will be interesting to see if Frölunda can threaten Rögle in the semifinal series that starts on Tuesday.
The old beck sure knows.
