For Christian, Danes create a fairytale
NEW DELHI: What must it have felt like to have lived these past nine days in Copenhagen, a city where one of the most dramatic storylines ever witnessed in international football unfolded? What must it have felt like to have been a ticket-holder at the Parken during Denmark’s three group games, which began with an on-field cardiac arrest to one of their greatest-ever players and ended with the Danes going from bottom of Group B to sealing a spot in the next round within a matter of a few manic minutes?
If that is already surreal enough, now try and imagine what it must have felt like to be a member of the current squad of De Rød-Hvide (The Red and Whites), with Christian Eriksen on his mind and with the full knowledge of a maiden home campaign of the Euro having all but gone off the rails with zero points from two matches and yet managing to turn that around in front of stands packed with diehard supporters? Perhaps there is a good reason why the greatest of all fairytale writers, Hans Christian Andersen, was from Denmark.
The dizzying climax to the story of the Euro thus far begins in the 65th minute of the game against Russia on Monday, a good six minutes after Yussuf
Poulsen put Denmark 2-0 up. So pathetic were Denmark’s chances of qualifying for the Round of 16 that even a massive win wouldn’t have put them there; not unless group leaders Belgium did them a favour by winning the dead rubber against Finland in St. Petersburg. Anything less wouldn’t have lifted Simon Kjaer’s side, so this is why the climax begins in the 65th minute at the Parken—when news trickled in of a Romelu Lukaku goal for Belgium.
Lukaku had proved to be a true friend of the Danes. The great Belgian striker had earlier dedicated his first goal of the tournament against Russia to his Inter Milan clubmate, Eriksen. “Chris, Chris! I love you,” he had then screamed into the closest camera. But on Monday night in the same city, VAR had ruled Lukaku off-side. Some 1,500km away, it rankled way more among the fans at the Parken.
What made matters worse was that nearly simultaneously with the disallowed Lukaku goal, Denmark’s Jannik Vestergaard conceded a penalty. Over the spot stood Russia’s captain and one of the big heroes from the 2018 World Cup campaign at home, Artem Dzyuba. He went straight down the middle, hardest to stop for a diving Kasper Schmeichel. Deficit halved in Denmark and time fast running out for Belgium to score in Russia, the eerily quiet Parken reflected the fact that the fans were understandably anxious. If the players were too, they did well not to show it.
It was high intensity, end-toend football—like the entirety of both midfields had been carved out and discarded. Then, in the 75th minute, the sea of red in the stands surfed to life once again, seemingly for something innocuous as nothing exceptional had taken place in Parken. But far away in St. Petersburg, Finland had conceded once again—this time to an own goal by their goalie, Lukas Hradecky.
Almost in celebration, Denmark, European champions in 1992 in a competition they weren’t even supposed to play, responded with a goal of their own to pull away from Russia— both in this match and in the group. And what a celebration it was, with Chelsea’s centre-back Andreas Christensen hoofing in a long-ranger that made the ball somehow start off near the turf and somehow climb as it whistled past all the legs in the Russia penalty area. It smashed into the roof of the net, dead of centre.
Christensen held out an index finger in one hand and a circle in the other, forming a “10” for the cameras; for Eriksen of course. “It is hard to describe what this team has been through the past few weeks, but we were thinking about Christian all the way,” Denmark coach Kasper Hjulmand would say later. But before the mics were thrust under Hjulmand’s chin, not only did Denmark score again against Russia (via Joakim Maehle), in Russia so did Lukaku.
Still, Hjulmand wasn’t sure. After the final whistle in Copenhagen and a wall of sound smashed through the ground, Denmark’s coach summoned his boys into a huddle in the middle of the field. And there they waited, a pause on their celebrations until the match in St. Petersburg was finished too. “What if Finland scored two quick goals?” Hjulmand said. “I thought it would be crazy to run around and celebrate (before both matches had ended).”
The resultant celebrations were aptly crazy. But it was at least something Hjulmand could wrap his head around, unlike the nine-day journey itself. “I can’t imagine how they managed to come back from what they went through,” said the coach. Disbelief, though, won’t stop him, his boys and all of Denmark for that matter from having one hell of a story to tell for the foreseeable future.