As mentioned earlier, my weekend didn’t go quite according to plan. Or, well, most of it didn’t. Sunday did actually trickle by quite according to plan which meant good times for Johan. The plan, quite simply put, was to catch a chartered bus to Copenhagen to watch our boys from Kolding FC plan an important away game, catch a few beers on the way, then return all the way home and have a few beers at Domhuset before finding my bed. The execution, naturally, was a bit more complicated, but I’d like to think it all went rather well.
I kicked off the day early, 8:45 AM to be precise when I was woken by an SMS and for some reason couldn’t get back to sleep – oh well, at least I managed to hide under the covers for about an hour which was still good times. Eventually, at around 10, I got up, showered, and placed a wake-up call to Louise who’d been out partying the night before and asked me to make sure she got up. After doing so, and ending up feeling pretty bad about it as Louise sure didn’t sound like somebody who’d enjoyed being woken up, I ate some breakfast, got dressed and set out, running rather late. Half sprinting through most of the city, I eventually made it down to the stadium and the waiting horde of people which, much to my surprise featured not only my friends from KFC Support, but also Ricki’s dad, Tom, my boss from GLS and his wife (that is to say Ricki’s mother).
Surprised to see Tom in a place like this, I instantly jumped into a slur of insults about now having to put up with seeing him here as well and a few remarks about his looks and weight for good measure. I kept up this insult until Ricki’s parents told me that they were only there to deliver some beers, sodas and snacks for the trip that Ricki himself couldn’t bring as he was undergoing surgery for a broken finger at the time. An announcement which achieved something as rare as shutting me up instantly.. Whoops! After inquiring about his situation, I decide to play nice and shut the fuck up. I also decide to go give Louise a hug as I spot her in the crowd looking anything but wide awake and up for the task. As it turned out, she was going on close to no sleep and nursing a major hangover, so I can’t say I blame her.
After standing around for a while, our bus finally arrived, and after getting our supplies out of Tom’s car, we all filed onboard and set off as quickly as we could which is to say that we ended up running only about a half hour late. A rather important delay as a bus trip to Copenhagen apparently takes a long-assed time and we didn’t have too much of it to begin with. We spent the time on the bus best as we could, eating sandwiches, chatting and laughing, singing a few songs, drinking a few beers (or six) and freezing our asses off as the heating system was apparently either shot or set to freezing. All in all it wasn’t too bad of a trip, except maybe for Louise who was whimpering ever so slightly in the seat next to me as she was sobering up. Most importantly, we made it there on time despite even taking time for a short smoking/toilet break at around the half-point mark.
As we rode into Copenhagen, or Lyngby, more specifically, moods were high, songs were sung and middle fingers were raised at Lyngby fans passing by outside the bus. We eventually reached our destination at the stadium, filed out of the bus, most of us straight into the bushes to take care of some uhh.. pressing issues. We then did our best to enter the stadium, a pretty complicated task which was delayed by the facts that all of us had to be frisked and that, apparently, event security were none too happy with our mascots, the two toy horsies which, by some idiotic piece of reasoning, were considered weapons. This created an entirely absurd situation in which I, a long haired metalhead carrying a pink, sparkly toy horse, was detained by one of the guards at the entrance while he radioed his superior for advice: “Uh.. We have a bit of a situation here.. Yea, they’ve got these banners and stuff.. And a couple of toy horses.. on sticks! We’re not quite sure what to do?” – as you may be able to deduct, I was struggling hard not to burst out laughing at this point. Luckily, though, his superior seemed to understand the humor of the situation, too, so we were cleared to enter.. Which we, of course, did in the most loud obnoxious manner possible, singing, clapping, jumping about, making noise and making sure that not only our boys but also the home team fans and the city knew we’d arrived.
After jumping around like utter idiots for a while, we settled down a little, checked out the facilities, bought a shitload of sausages which were rumored to the best in the country but were all but disappointing and waited for the game to start. As it did, we got back to being noisy idiots which actually helped for a change as our boys got off to a good start and scored the first goal of the match. Which sent us into a complete frenzy and saw us galloping around the stands, starting mosh pits and banging on whichever noise-making objects we could find. Easy come, easy go, though, and it wasn’t long before the Lyngby bastards evened the score by scoring a goal of their own, making the score 1 – 1 and keeping it that way for the remainder of the game.. Oh well, at least we, once again, didn’t lose.. And I’d like to think we won on the stands as we were definitely being a bunch of noisy idiots as we were jumping about, shirts off and all, tearing up our vocal chords with our home-made support songs.. All in all it was good fun, even to the innocent bystanders who just happened to be standing next to us and most of us were in a pretty good mood as we filed back out and onto the bus.. Where we dove right into the beers.
Even Louise dared try a beer this time around but it didn’t go over too well with her and after two the poor girl had to call it quits and spent some of the trip back snoozing and recovering. I, on the other hand, had a few more beers and talks with the boys which led to a lot of good laughs and funny moments. Finally, at around 8:30 PM, we made it safely back to Kolding, unloaded ourselves and our junk from the bus and, after regrouping, went on down to Domhuset for a goodnight beer or two, or was it three? Admittedly, the last couple of times I’ve been to Domhuset, things have gotten a little out of control, so by that comparison, this visit was all nice and quiet-like. We got down there without too much drama aside from this bloke, Mark, who, after showing up pissed off his ass for the ride and downing beers all the way, decided that the best way to get to Domhuset would be to ride his bike there, nearly end-gaming himself three or four times on the way. And even as we got there, things stayed on the quiet side with us only singing a few songs, having a few beers and spending time talking and hanging out rather than getting drunk off our asses on free shots and what have you. Shockingly, the most outrageous stunt of the evening wasn’t even pulled by a member fo our team, but by someone from another table who thought that pouring Sambuca in his hair and lighting it on fire seemed a perfectly reasonable thing to do.. Umm, okay!
Our party eventually thinned out quite a bit and at around midnight the last remaining few of us decided to call it quits and leave. But not before singing one last encore by popular demand. Once outside, we scattered in several directions and I ended up walking home with a couple of the guys who were going in the same general direction as I was. I eventually made it back home some 13+ hours after initially leaving and felt thrilled as ever to see my bed and pass out for a few hours of sleep before getting up for school the next morning.. What’s that, you say? A Monday without hangovers? Yes, it was bound to happen at some point.. And it was actually a pretty enjoyable experience. As was the whole trip.. Thanks guys and gal! Lets do it again at some point!