David Preece: Comedy sketches, singing and performative dance - the inside story behind Östersunds FK's trailblazing 'Culture Project'

My travelling adventures have become a bit of a joke in the office this season.
Ostersund, Sweden.Ostersund, Sweden.
Ostersund, Sweden.

I’m what you could call “creative” with my arrangements, which means I rarely go directly from A to B.

Admittedly, this is mostly because I leave my organisation until the very last minute, which leaves me very little option except to be creative, but necessity is the mother of invention and if I need to get somewhere, I will. Somehow, some way.

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It has also come to the attention of some that these trips usually come at a much cheaper price but I wholly refute the accusations that my years spent in Scotland have led to this frugality. It’s something that is forced upon me rather than a case of me having short arms and deep pockets.

For example, when I came home during the Summer break, I flew to Stockholm on the early flight from Östersund and my connecting flight wasn’t for another 24 hours from one of those remote Ryanair airports that says it’s in Stockholm but is actually 100km away from there.

Not a problem for me though. I managed to take in a second division game to fill the time, jumped on a train to Nyköpping and sleep six hours at Skavsta airport by knocking up a makeshift bed by pulling five chairs together.

I say “sleep” but it’s more like six hours of fidgeting broken up my dropping off occasionally.

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Other times have seen me make what should be a two-hour flight home, extended by seven hours by stopping over in Dusseldorf in Germany or Kaunas in Lithuania. ‘Why not see a bit more of the world when you can’ has become something of a motto of mine. And a mantra that I repeat to myself to make me feel more like Phileas Fogg than the bedraggled-looking tinpot explorer I am.

I actually do like it, though my travails across Europe have become another running joke. If there’s a flight to be cancelled, you can bet I’m supposed to be boarding it. That said, it’s my own fault for flying Ryanair in the first place. I’m surprised they don’t charge for looking out of the window yet.

“Would you like the shutter up or down, sir?”

“Up, please.”

“Certainly, sir. That will be €25.”

Currently I’m sat in Arlanda Airport in Stockholm after a thoroughly trouble-free five-hour train journey that began at 5:30am and only cost 300SEK. That’s a 400-mile train journey for less than £30. See, socialist policies in a caring society do work.

I am a little more tired than usual this morning though. Not just because of the early start or the couple of beers we had to put a full stop on the end of the football year in Sweden, but because the annual Östersunds FK Culture Project was on Tuesday too.

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The brainchild of the former chairman of the club, Daniel Kindberg, his idea was to place the players and staff into environments outside of their working bubble and free them of some of the inhibitions that can stifle football performances.

In previous years, they have written a book, danced Swan Lake and laid on musical extravaganzas. This year’s theme was a revue show of comedy, sketches, singing and performative dance that focused on us celebrating the ÖFK fans, the “Falkarna” and thanking them for their support.

Preparations begin early in the season and to be honest, it’s to the dismay of most. Days off are often eaten up by hours of choreography and scene rehearsals and the effort can sometimes seem like a chore. But to the credit of everyone involved, once the season was over, every single person threw themselves into it.

Footballers can be strange folk at times. Put them on a football pitch with thousands in the stands and millions watching on TV and they think nothing of it. Make them sing, dance or make a speech in front of a few dozen people and they can retreat into their shells like snail having salt dropped on its head (don’t ask me how I know that).

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Over the course of 12 hours, we had three dress rehearsals and two performances to packed out audiences in the huge Storsjoteatern theatre in the town square.

And how did it go? Unbelievably well, as it happens. I managed to remember all of my lines and not make too many steps out of time during the dancing. I won’t be making my debut on Broadway any time soon but the standard of performance was irrelevant.

To receive the response we did from the standing ovations was incredible and as we gathered backstage the feeling was euphoric.

Half relief as the tension was allowed to flow away, half sheer exhilaration, it gave the group something that even winning games would.

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It felt different somehow, working together as a team but in a totally different dynamic forges relationships and bonds that would otherwise lay dormant.

And THAT is the whole purpose of it all. To create more than just performance, to build confidence in those who lack it and bring not only the players and staff closer, but the fans too.

Östersunds FK is still a minnow in European terms, historically it’s still a baby in Sweden but despite the drama, the uphill struggles, the negative press and the barbs thrown by opposition fans down south, as a collective the club is more determined than ever to fight back.

We might not be adopting the old Millwall adage of saying “Nobody likes us but we don’t care”.

But the club’s motto of “Vi her oss aldrig” (We never give up), could never be more closely felt amongst everyone in Östersund as it is right now.

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