The thrill of stumbling across a football match while away on holiday
Whether in Oslo, Reykjavik or an Anglesey caravan park, happening upon a game is always a happy accident
By Mike Whalley for When Saturday Comes
The guidebook I had during a holiday in Oslo late last summer recommended the museum dedicated to sculptor Gustav Vigeland (portrayer of human struggle, recluse, twice divorced, hater of dogs, and alleged Nazi sympathiser, whose most well-known work took 14 years to complete and resembles a giant phallus). So off I went. But as I strolled through the neighbouring park, I caught sight of some floodlights.
Drawn to them, I found a small sports stadium, and a football match in progress, one significant enough to be charging an entrance fee of 100 kroner – just under £10. Vigeland was forgotten as I joined a smattering of spectators on a shallow terrace. This hadn’t been in the guidebook. It took effort to establish that I was watching a match from the Norwegian fourth division, Lokomotiv Oslo losing 2-1 at home to Skjetten in a contest so obscure that no detailed report – not even a record of the goalscorers – seems to exist online. Yet it was a highlight of my break.
