“I must apologize that it is so cold here. But it might get hot eventually.” The powerful cross-country boss himself, Espen Bjervig, was the first to speak. He was going to be right. It was really cold in the large conference room in the basement of the Holmenkollen Park Hotel, where the Ski Association had invited for a presentation of the national cross-country teams ahead of next season. The reason was one of those inflatable sausages you like to see at fairgrounds – which now hung flat over the podium to advertise the Ski Association’s clothing sponsor – but which required the doors to be wide open into the backyard to get enough air. The cross-country management, who have always seemed bordering on morbidly concerned with the delicate health of their athletes, had to prioritize the commercial considerations. This is what is called the new reality. Before, they could pretty much control the market as they wanted. Now it had finally dawned on them that they must do everything to keep the sponsors they still have. But the will thus seemed considerably greater than the mind. SONG: The national team on the women’s side is presented. Photo: Lars Thomas Nordby / NTB The art of the impossible Because when the women were the first national team up on stage, there was a loud playback of DDE’s “The impossible is possible”. So loud that it was, yes, impossible for anyone in the room or in front of screens around the country to hear what was being said during the song. Therefore, it became the one to listen to. In a puzzling search for a form of symbolism. Because it was too striking that you should play the party fixers from Namsos on such a day without an underlying message. But it was never clear whether you wanted to focus on the text line “Vi såg oss aldig tebakers/Mot det we had left” or whether should be on the one that reads “The starving princess has no peas/She slept on a dirt floor without a mattress”. That is, whether this was about those who were not there – which was not only Klæbo, but also the female shooting star Kristine Stavås Skistad, who has also turned down the national team – or whether it was about the difficult financial situation the remaining ones are facing in. The sound faded anyway when you got to the line with the dragon and the treasure and Switzerland. After all, this was not about Bjørn Dæhlie. And you had to move on quickly in the program. Uninvited guests The Trønder theme was just as prominent when the men’s sprint team were next on stage, to the suggestive tones of the Stage Dolls’ soft rock classic “Soldiers Gun”. Here it was easier to find the meaning. “We’ll be marching forever for the country we love.” Real national team runners, that is. Although some of them did not feel so strongly about the national pride. Sindre Bjørnestad Skar had, in the same way as Didrik Tønseth, been in and out of the promised company several times in the last 24 hours. “Like going to a party to which you are not invited”, was Skar’s bitingly precise description. Before he compared himself to the TVNorge character Bent Leikvoll. Tønseth was no milder in his criticism of the management, personified by Espen Bjervig. Everything about the treatment of the two national team runners, as they now formally are, also appears to be surprisingly poorly thought out and poorly planned. National team coach Arild Monsen thanked his five remaining sprinters and said there will probably be six by the time the season starts. He will probably be right too. Because everyone understood who the sixth person he was still talking about was. SELECTION: Cross-country coach Espen Bjervig presents the selection for the sprint national team on the men’s side. Photo: Lars Thomas Nordby / NTB Non-sporting noise And for cross-country manager Bjervig from Nøtterøy it got increasingly hotter, as he went from critical interview to critical interview to critical interview. In an icy room crammed full of elephants. Most of them named Johannes Høsflot Klæbo. The cross-country world’s biggest star in a special class has abruptly quit the national team. And no one quite understands what the cross-country management has done to prevent it. Espen Bjervig patiently tried to explain. But met with less and less attention from the many journalists and other cross-country skiing experts who watched around the room, a few hundred meters from our national facility. And Bjervig looked increasingly stooped and resigned as he answered the barrage of questions. The only thing that could save him was the non-sports noise. Because the apropos music from the stage became less and less subtle. When the national men’s distance team was the last group out, the search for the underlying message was completely over. Bonnie Tyler’s “Holding out for a hero” rang out from the loudspeaker. SINGING STAR: Bonnie Tyler Photo: Jessica Gow / NTB They hadn’t even bothered to find anything Trøndish, even though Mrs. Tyler from Wales otherwise has lots of loyal fans in the country. The Robin Hood of cross-country skiing Everything is really about timing in this strange game. And the Klæbo camp has so far been the best in a special class to manage the dramaturgy. No one believes this is a spontaneous decision. For Klæbo has seen a sport in change and wants to continue. Most of all, it was about finding the right time. Which meant that Klæbo could leave the national team without getting the ego stamp that both Petter Northug and, not least, alpinist Henrik Kristoffersen shared, when they did some of the same manoeuvres. And Klæbo and his skilled advisers managed this in an elegant way. Where as a gesture he could have offered to pay for his own altitude stays within the framework of the national team, he instead got completely out into freedom in a kind of Robin Hood maneuver, where he announced that he did so in protest against the treatment of unspecified national team colleagues who risked losing the place and with it a large part of the income base. Klæbo himself has wisely not commented on the matter. The national team management has had no choice. Although more and more people are missing ski president Tove Moe Dyrhaug’s voice in this, in principle, extremely important matter. If this has no sporting consequences for Klæbo, the way is open for other stars who want to be outside the national teams in the future. SAID NO: Klæbo has been out of the sprint team since last season. He has chosen to invest further outside the national team. Photo: Ulf Palm / NTB That’s probably how it will be. A world champion’s worries And then you risk putting the entire structure of Norwegian cross-country skiing in jeopardy. This collectivist supply chain is in many ways the basis for the entire recruitment of new stars for the long-term cross-country nation of Norway. And for the highly professional support apparatus around the national teams today. World champion Pål Golberg seemed very sincere in his concern about the consequences this could have for future generations of cross-country stars. The biggest in the present, Johannes Høsflot Klæbo, was in a completely different place than at Holmenkollen Park. Naturally. As you know, since Sunday he has had nothing to do with the national team. Maybe he also sang for DDE. It is not unusual among the people of Trondheim. It could have been the classic “Det går likar no”, “Ville fugla flyg” or, for that matter, “Ainner sida av elva”. Or maybe it was simply “The good things we had together” Klæbo hummed, like that on the occasion of the day. Because DDE has an offer for everyone anyway. In contrast to, for example, the national cross-country team.
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The beauty they had together – news Sport – Sports news, results and broadcasting schedule
