But all of that is nothing in comparison
to last night's 1-0 home defeat to the
Danish minnows. A proud unbeaten European
home record gone (although admittedly,
their prowess in Europe maybe doesn't
include quite as many fixtures as others,
but nonetheless unbeaten they were),
against a side whose own proud history
stretches back all of... erm, ah yes,
there we are, nine years.
That's right, think back to when, in
a fit of national pride/intoxication
you, for a split second, actually considered
attending the Millennium Dome. Back
then, this club were nothing more than
a glint in the eye of Mr Johnny Rune,
a carpenter, and Mr Ejner Hessel, a
Mercedes Benz dealer. Incredible, and
true.
In the nine years that have passed,
FC Midjylland (a name that, in Norse
mythology, referes to something to do
with Fenrir, a wolf, the son of Loki
and the giantess Angrboda, obviously)
have jaunted their way up to the Danish
Superliga (real name). They've even
ripped off Charlton Athletic's badge
design, but do they care about all that
this morning? Will they show any concern
waking up around Canal Street frantically
trying to piece together great chunks
of last night? Will they, heck.
Us English can laugh and joke but it's
a giantkilling of monumental proportions,
and they sit now only ninety minutes
away from pulling off a great result.
I wonder how many free sausage rolls
their large multinational sponsor Spar
would afford them if that happened?
