Misadventures in Copenhagen: An evening with B.93
Photo: Jeppe Wermuth
“Haven’t you heard?” The voice on the other end of the phone quizzed.
A vague sense of dread struck me like a wave. Head in hands, I dropped slowly to a half-squat, ready for the impact of what I was sure to be news of a postponed game and a wasted trip to Copenhagen. I shot a glance at Vittorio, who I’d gladly convinced to make the trip to help me photograph one of Denmark’s lesser-known footballing entities. He was framing shots of the regal Amalienborg Palace. Thick snowflakes fell around us. It was late November, and we were prepared for the cold. But this was a different beast.
“The game has been moved… to another stadium,” the voice said.
I stood up slowly. Moved? How does one go about moving an entire football match? Better yet, how does one go about moving an entire football match with less than four hours until kick-off?
On the other end of the phone was Anton, head of Champagneholdet, the unofficial fan club for Boldklubben af 1893 (known more colloquially as B.93). They would be the subject of our excursion to the Danish capital.
As he relayed directions and road names and instructions on the phone, I gestured to Vittorio that our leisurely itinerary (swanning about Østerbro, soaking in some neighbourhood delights, savouring some delicate pre-match food and drinks) was now kaput. This would be a dig-in-and-get-a-result kind-of scenario. But that didn’t matter. The game against Hobro was on; it was a minor winter miracle.
***
Eager to seize the waning moments of the final daylight hour, we headed out to the club’s home in the city’s Eastern neighbourhood. Østerbro Stadion sits in the shadows of Parken, the national stadium and home ground of FC Copenhagen – a behemoth in comparison.
Even in the sleet that had started to fall, we could tell: Østerbro Stadion is a uniquely beautiful and serene setting. Blueish-green statues, akin to those which you can find across Copenhagen’s parks and green spaces, dot the perimeter. One of these, which caught the floodlights’ rays, holds a sword upright, pointing into the sky – as if to signify that beneath the beauty, this is a place of battle. The wide, royal blue running track adds a certain grandiosity, and over in the furthest corner, a church spire towers over the main stand, its dark-reddish hue unmistakably visible through the haze. I couldn’t help but wonder how vividly those colours would shine on a late evening in the middle of Spring.
Photo: Vittorio Moro
We stopped for a beer in Østerbro, taking the opportunity to not only plan our journey to the new location, but to get some well-deserved warmth. It was a local hangout, full of Friday-drinkers and one fairly early work Christmas party.
***
The game had moved to Sundby Idrætspark, out in Amager Vest. Owing to renovations at Østerbro Stadion, this would actually be B.93’s temporary home in 2025. The game was an early and unexpected house-warming party.
Inside, we finally met Anton. He stood with Mikkel Jensen, the club’s creative director and chief commercial officer, who we’d also planned to meet. Mikkel corralled and directed people, and periodically passersby carrying random items – some bibs, a beer barrel, a form for him to sign – would come and ask: “Mikkel, where’s this going?”
Photos: Vittorio Moro
Beer in hand, as surprised I’d remembered his directions as myself, Anton greeted us warmly. “Not what you had planned for today, hey?” he laughed. “He’s done a great job,” he nodded, patting Mikkel on the back.
A dozen-or-so Hobro fans stood shivering with the home support – a welcoming matchday feature that B.93 are keen to encourage.
Anton pointed to a man who wore a red cap in the middle of the main stand. “We grew up together – he’s the reason I’m a B.93 fan,” he explains. “His grandfather played for the club back in some of the glory days, it was a big deal.”
He wasn’t kidding.
The 1930s represented the most successful period of the club’s history, during which time they gathered nine national titles – the last coming in 1946. And while their most recent piece of silverware came in the form of a Danish Cup in 1982, the legacy of the Champagneholdet, the champagne team – so-called for their flair and elegant play, forms a large part of the club’s modern identity.
Their investment in youth infrastructure is another jewel in the crown. Last season, B.93 fielded more homegrown academy players than any other team in Denmark’s top two divisions. The Østerbro stadium complex, and the wider training facilities in-and-around the neighbourhood, many of which are owned by the Municipality of Copenhagen, are accessible and vast. It’s no wonder the academy shines brightly. With a gymnasium, running track, tennis courts, studios, multi-sport pitches, and even a swimming pool, the area directly and indirectly plays a central role in the lives of many East Copenhageners.
Photos: Vittorio Moro
The club has not shirked the weight of that responsibility. They are acutely aware of football’s ills, paying mindful attention to the partners they collaborate with. Rather than cosying up to the world of gambling, for example, B.93 are instead partnered with Centre for Ludomani, an organisation that treats people with gambling addictions.
From Nørrebro to Frederiksberg - most, if not all of their partners, are local businesses that originated in the city. The commitment to localised partnerships gives B.93 license to tap into the city’s creative and entrepreneurial talents, which bleeds into their outward projection as a bold and forward-thinking football institution. Approaching their off-the-field endeavours in a non-linear fashion is perhaps, at least for the canny observer from afar, their most alluring quality.
Delving into local artistry, fashion and culture is an enshrining pillar of their reputation. Collaborating with Copenhagen sunglasses brand A Kjaerbede, or artist Jonathan Elley, or even using Østerbro Stadion to stage Baum und Pferdgarten’s show during Copenhagen Fashion Week, are all signifiers of a club keen to respect and champion football’s burgeoning love affair for aesthetics.
But aesthetics count for nothing without substance.
Photo: Jeppe Wermuth
The social media age has only boosted this newfound thirst. Many clubs suffer the pitfalls of poorly executed and overly forced outward strategies that entirely fail to resonate with their audience. The failure at the heart of these shortcomings is that they’re not rooted in the culture of the community that forms the basis of the club’s existence. With it, everything else can flow naturally.
And that’s where B.93 succeed.
***
The game finished 1-2 to the visitors. Vittorio and I watched the noble volunteers deconstruct various makeshift stations at the end of the game. Under the stand, just inside the tunnel, a man stood precariously on two step-ladders, unravelling a long length of wire attached to some sound equipment they’d hurriedly set up pre-match. It was comical and spirited all at once.
A football club is decidedly not its external representation of itself. It is reflected most purely in its adherence to tradition, in the people who remain committed to its existence, and in those who step up when the chips are down. B.93 has all of those things in abundance.
