Angelholm.
night and night.
Uuuuuuder.
The undeveloped use of language by a goalkeeper from Olofstrom did not make the fight for Skåne rise to the levels I had hoped for.
Can you get the money back?
Now I don’t pay to go to ice hockey, in anything but my mental health, but in the cauldron of the Rögle witch in the hall, there was a “tip at the door” note on Thursday afternoon because 6,310 creatures bought a ticket to the first season of the Derby della its folks.
There could have been a rare moment in the market economy, you know that moment when the buyer is as happy as the seller, but this time the buyer came home frustrated.
Not only did Rogel lose the match against Malmö, but it was also not a derby showdown worthy of the title or history books.
Here in Angelholm they have completely expanded the arena, raised the roof and fixed a new floor where spectators can eat, drink…drink and have a really good time in all these ways while standing and watching ice hockey.
When, after a while, the announcer called “Tommy Jönsson” (not old HBK back, right?) who had disappeared and asked him to come into the entrance to meet his company, I had no idea this “Tommy” would be the happiest evening.
He was probably one of the few who actually got value for money.
It looked like a Venezuelan thunderstorm
Sure, it started off promisingly, Rögle’s heel shouted “We hate Malmö, damn you!” As it should have been, Emil Selfgaard stabbed Dennis Everberg just before landing.
The Rögle player threw and looked like an ice cream stick and that probably should have been a warning sign.
The first period was good, with Fredrik Handemark making it 0-1 after Marco Casper was sent off two minutes after colliding with Daniel Marmenlind, and Handemark shone like the sun when he discovered the pass came from top pole (okay) Karl Soderbergh.
The replica wasn’t long in coming, Theodor Niederbach scored 1-1 after 90 seconds, and a roar from a crowded arena sounded like a Venezuelan thunderstorm.
There and then I felt it could be an 8-8 derby, but no ice hockey-like model, the two teams pegging themselves with some exceptions.
Five minutes into the second, Emile Selvigaard, who is making a real effort (and does a good job, we have to give him) to take the title of “pig colonel” from Mats Luth, was kicked into Kale Klang’s goal area.
An exchange of opinions ensued, pushing Sylvegaard Klang, who injured his face despite the fact that the gloves are soft and the goalkeepers are fairly well protected behind the net and the throwing ball.
stupid and immature
It wasn’t particularly ugly, and may have been undisciplined by Sylvegård, but the Rögle goalkeeper’s exaggeration got him kicked out of the Kävlinge amateur scene.
Klang and Klang Klang.
After the match, Silvigaard cheerfully came to media representatives on the scene and told them that Klang called him a “whore”.
Would you look at that?
Neither Kling nor Klang wanted to come out and explain themselves after Silvygaard’s claim and instead Cam Abbott showed up without saying anything because there wasn’t much to say about what might be said.
Now if he says what Silvigaard said, he is of course stupid and immature, but we must bear in mind that Kali Klang was born in Olofstrom.
If he doesn’t say what Sylvegård said, which we’ll never know unless C More sits down and hits “The Zapruder Movie” with an audio recording, that’s dishonest of Emil.
I stumble here.
Part of me hopes and believes, probably naively, that the essence of ice hockey has also evolved and that language on ice has risen from the level of Neanderthals.
I will never forget Jonas Björkman
At the same time, I must admit that I don’t have high hopes that the adrenaline-fueled male ice hockey guys will be able to express themselves much more complex than that.
I’ll never forget when Jonas Björkmann, the continuing tennis player from Alvesta from Småland, shouted “luuuuuder” at a referee during Wimbledon 15 years ago.
Just thinking about this sequence still gives me goosebumps.
So where did we land?
I don’t know, but perhaps in just a famous phrase, a stray line we should all be ashamed of, uttered or not, from now on.
When everyone thought the derby was going to be a real derby, its intensity waned instead, and Adam Ols Matson threw a puck ball that meant 1-2 for Malmo and it wasn’t much chasing Rogel.
“Rogel we never give up, Rogel we never give up” chanted as Rogel surrendered.
The hosts grabbed the goalkeeper with three minutes remaining, and Everberg had the best chance after Malmo should have been ruled out of the open penalty area once and twice.
Under the skin, which everyone constantly says they want to come in, nobody came with anyone, and if I or anyone else said before the season that Malmö would be the best in Skåne two weeks into the season, you’d be called an idiot by everything and everyone, by Tommy Tobel, Mats Weiderstal, Claes Juran “Meghan” Wallen.
But Malmö is the best in Scania.
And I hope Tommy Johnson gets home right.