Words: Levi Hanssen
Semi-professional footballer for HB Tórshavn/Faroe Islands
As my iPhone woke up me up this morning I was sharply reminded of last night’s match, my body aching all over from the many physical battles and tough tackles. An hour in the Jacuzzi did me a world of good, though – a great way to kick start the day. Soon afterwards I took my Porsche Cayman into town to buy a new black-and-white Tom Ford tuxedo for next week’s charity gala dinner, and ended up throwing in a Rolex to go with the outfit. I like to plan early – unlike my wife Jessie (a lingerie model), who still hasn’t chosen an outfit for the star-studded event.
What you’ve just read could easily be the description of a day in the life of a Premier League footballer – hardly a Faroese semi-professional. Replace the iPhone with a Nokia, the Jacuzzi with a rushed, lukewarm shower, the Porsche with a Mazda, the Tom Ford tuxedo with an H&M shirt, the charity dinner with a trip to the cinema, the Rolex with a Timex and Jessie the lingerie model with, well, Lina, the most beautiful nurse you’ll ever see, and you have a more accurate representation of my life as a Faroese footballer.
The aches and pains from last night’s match are nevertheless very real, and fit well into my own narrative. After dropping my three-year-old daughter off at day care this morning I eventually dragged my tired legs to work. Fortunately I’m sat on my bum in an office all day, which means my legs are spared the physical labour some of my teammates endure working in construction and other demanding industries.
At 4pm, after eight hours at work, I pick my daughter up and head home. The next hour and a half is spent cooking dinner and spending time with my family. That short spell is invaluable, as it is the only time I get to spend with my daughter on weekdays (she’s usually asleep by the time I get back from training at around 8pm). One thing Faroese footballers do share with their professional counterparts is the time spent away from family. Choosing to do something you love means simultaneously choosing time apart from the ones you love the most. Most teams train four times a week for approximately two hours (excluding any extra weight training sessions) and play matches every Sunday, which – when you add time spent travelling – usually takes up most of the day.
Don’t get me wrong – the sacrifices involved are completely voluntary and allow me to do something I have loved all my life and continue to love today.
The rush I get from running out on the pitch before a big match, scoring a goal or winning a title is still one of the best feelings there is. Interest in football – both domestic and foreign – is huge in the Faroe Islands. Approximately 5,000 fans fill the various stadiums across the country every weekend, making it one of Europe’s most devoted leagues by population. The interest generated from football is greatly felt throughout communities across the country in the week leading up to the weekend’s round of matches. It’s fantastic to be part of that environment.
Justifying a decision to prioritise football ahead of other things is made easier by the fact that you get paid to play. It’s essentially a second job, and fortunately one that you love. A large majority of footballers in the top division are paid wages, most of which range from the equivalent of £400 to £1,400 per month. The introduction of player/club contracts brought with it an increase in what clubs could demand from players, and vice-versa. For example, players with contracts are required to take part in all training sessions and matches. As a result, the standard of football in the Faroe Islands has increased in the past 15 to 20 years. Faroese teams regularly get points in European competitions and the national team has progressed well, too, beating Greece twice in the latest European Championship qualifying stage.
In the dressing room after training tonight I was talking to a teammate about which teams we could possibly be drawn against in the Europa League this summer (four Faroese teams compete in the qualifying rounds of either the Champions League or Europa League each year). We agreed that, ideally, we’d want to be drawn against a team we could realistically beat. However, if that wasn’t the case, we were hoping to meet a team from a country that we’d like to visit. As well as providing endless unforgettable moments on the pitch, being a semi-professional footballer in the Faroe Islands also offers equally memorable experiences away from the game itself. European competition matches have taken me to places I would most likely never have had the chance to visit on my own, such as Latvia, Gibraltar and Andorra. I’ve also been capped at international youth level and played three matches for the national team. These call-ups have taken me to countries including Azerbaijan, Greece and Iceland. Experiencing these cultures has certainly been one of the highlights of my footballing career.
Another topic in the HB (Havnar Bóltfelag) dressing room after training tonight was our upcoming match against arch rivals B36. We share a stadium in the same way AC Milan and Inter Milan do. It’s usually a fiercely contested affair attracting one of the biggest crowds of the season, and is a match every player desperately wants to play in. The weather in the Faroe Islands is quite unpredictable (it’s common to experience all four seasons in one day), so you always hope wind conditions don’t have too much of an effect on the match. Fortunately our stadium is located in a valley and well sheltered from wind, which can really impact matches in other parts of the country. Quite a few stadiums are located within 100 yards of the North Atlantic Ocean (at the old stadium in Eiði, which isn’t used for top division matches anymore, the wind would sometimes take the ball into the ocean, making it difficult to retrieve). We have the wind to deal with, but luckily the facilities in general are really good. Today, all grounds have top quality artificial grass pitches that meet the criteria for European competition matches.
Done with dressing room chatter and excited about the weekend’s match, I head home at around 8pm. On days when we train, I’m not able to eat dinner with the family as running on a full belly doesn’t do me any good. Instead, I’ll eat a reheated dinner when I get home. The rest of the evening is usually spent with my wife and my three-month-old son.
My Timex tells me it is now past midnight, which is past my normal bedtime. I might not own a Jacuzzi, a Porsche or a Rolex, but even semi-professional footballers from the Faroe Islands need their rest.
This article appears in Issue 1 of Glory, Faroe Islands. Available to purchase here.
