Texts for Translation 2007:
  Martin Grieg

'CITY OF GOD'

By Martin Grieg

'Valkommen hem" declare the lifesize posters on every bus stop, advertising
board and spare piece of wall in Helsingborg, Sweden. Beneath the letters is
a picture of the city's favourite son, the chiselled cheekbones cast in a
familiar celebratory pose. After 13 years, three countries, five major
championships, two European finals and a truckload of medals, Henrik Larsson
has come home. "What's so great about Sweden?" he says with a smile. "If I
ask you what's so great about Scotland, what would you say? You were born
there, it is home. I was born here. It's a country we always intended to
move back to in order for the kids [Jordan, nine, and Janelle, three] to get
to know how everything works, find friends and learn the culture.

"We needed to do it fairly early and Jordan was right on the limit. In
Helsingborg, people recognise me but they don't really pester me and I'm
grateful for that. Most people have known me since I was a kid, and I know
them. It's a small city in that way. We really enjoy being back. It was time
to go home."

In a city of just over 120,000, almost everyone has a Larsson story. "Ah,
Henke . . ." reflect taxi drivers, waiters, shopkeepers and fans, before
regaling listeners with tales of previous encounters. The laid-back
inhabitants of this pretty ferry port close to the Danish border have not
been slow to prepare the fatted calf for the return of their prodigal son. A
mixture of pride and respect is obvious whenever Larsson's name is
mentioned, though any mass hysteria is diluted by a sense of familiarity.
There are men who played football with him in their youth, others who played
against him; those who recall him as a formidable indoor hockey player and
those who came into contact through his work outside football, prior to
turning professional. The city falls broadly into two camps: those who know
Larsson personally and those who know him by association.

For the army of Larsson admirers around the world, Helsingborg has taken on
a mythical quality. In interviews, he has frequently namechecked the place
of his birth and spoken of the house he was having built there, which he has
now moved into. He has always said he would settle there in the twilight of
his career and it is not hard to see why. Helsingborg is referred to as "the
pearl of the sound" and its proximity to Denmark creates the kind of pulse
that makes it unique among Swedish conurbations. Most activity is centred
round its bustling harbours, where cruise liners and ferries drift lazily
back and forth. The magnificent neo-gothic town hall dominates the
promenade, though it is the fortress - or Karnan - which looms over the
city, a reminder of its bloody history (the Swedes finally saw off the Danes
in the Battle of Helsingborg in 1710). Sandy beaches are strewn along the
shoreline and the slow pace of life is encapsulated by a hammock salesman
doing a roaring trade beside the docks. My visit coincides with the
Helsingborg Festival and the harbour areas are awash with young people and
families enjoying live music, whiling away the warm summer evenings with
drinks in their hands. The question is not so much why Larsson chose to
return, as how he managed to stay away for so long.

Helsingborgians have been flocking in their droves to the Olympia stadium,
home of Helsingborg FC, over the last couple of weeks to witness Larsson's
return to the club he graced for two seasons between 1991 and 1993. Few
players turn out for a Swedish premier division club eight weeks after
winning the Champions League with Barcelona, but Larsson's single-mindedness
has always set him apart.

Nowhere was this more evident than during his seven years at Celtic between
1997 and 2004. Detractors pointed to the poor quality of the Scottish
Premierleague in an attempt to diminish his achievements. Larsson just kept
scoring goals - an astonishing 242 in total, including 53 strikes in the
2000-01 season, which won him the European Golden Boot from Uefa as the
continent's top scorer. His two headed goals in the Uefa Cup final of 2003
in Seville - which the Parkhead club lost 3-2 to Porto, then coached by Jose
Mourinho - cemented his reputation as the greatest Celtic striker of the
modern era and proved his world-class talent beyond all doubt. Larsson was
even awarded an MBE in May for his contribution to Scottish football.

It is little wonder, then, that fans and officials from Helsingborg FC strut
around like the proverbial cats that got the cream - but it is the
contentedness of the man himself that is most striking. We are talking in
the players' lounge at Helsingborg, an hour after the club's 3-0 victory
over Degerfors in the Swedish Cup, a match in which Larsson, 34, scored his
first two goals for the club since his return. It is five months since our
last meeting, in Barcelona's Nou Camp stadium, and the change in his
demeanour is immediately apparent. Back then, the daily company of top-level
players such as Ronaldinho, Samuel Eto'o and Lionel Messi was offset by
spells on the bench. His frustration, which had built up over the previous
18 months, was obvious.

Larsson's first season at the Nou Camp, where he moved from Celtic in 2004,
was blighted by injury. He started well, scoring three times in 12 league
matches, but tore the cruciate ligament in his left knee during a 3-0 win
over Real Madrid in November 2004. When he returned from injury the
following season, he was used mainly as cover for their leading scorer
Eto'o. "I want regular football" was the subtext to that interview. Although
he now reflects on a hugely enjoyable spell at the Catalan club, the limited
starting opportunities strengthened his resolve to return home at the end of
his contract in the summer. Now it is clear that a return to both the club
that helped launched his career into Europe and his native land have
reinvigorated Larsson.

Helsingborg FC languish a lowly ninth in the Allsvenskan, the Swedish
premier division, and their record since Larsson's return is mixed - won
two, lost one and drawn one. As it stands, the Swedish Cup is their best
chance of entering the Uefa Cup next season. Grand plans are being hatched,
though, and they hope the arrival of Larsson is the first step towards
making them one of the top five clubs in Scandinavia. Attendances have
rocketed, they have just appointed a new manager, itinerant Scot Stuart
Baxter, and brought in a new sporting director. Within five years they will
have replaced the old-fashioned standing terraces at either end of the
stadium with new stands, increasing the capacity to 18,500.

"We played in the Champions League in 2000 and we would really like to do
that again, " explains Paul Myllenberg, the club's general manager. "It
takes some effort, but Larsson might be the first effort. He will help bring
better players to us because they know him. In five years, our ambition is
to be one of the best in Scandinavia."

Sten-Inge Fredin, the ebullient club president, has found himself swept
along by Larsson-mania. "Everybody is talking about Larsson here. Everybody
is buying his shirt, " he says. "We took him because he is a very good
footballer but, of course, you have a lot of other things around him. He is
going to pay back what he cost. Everybody here likes him as a player and
person."

'The last time I watched Larsson in the flesh he was wearing a Barcelona
shirt and playing against Atletico Madrid at the Nou Camp. Stars such as
Carlos Puyol, Messi and Deco all played in that match, in which Larsson
scored the home side's only goal in a surprise 3-1 defeat. It is more than a
little surreal, then, to see him now plying his trade amongst Swedish
journeymen. Typically, though, he throws himself into proceedings with the
same gusto, chasing down lost causes and acknowledging even the poorest of
service with that familiar thumbs-up gesture.

There are only 27 minutes on the clock when he ghosts in front of his marker
to cushion a cross from the right into the corner of the net for his first
goal since returning. "Heeeeenrik Laaaaarsson, " screams the stadium
announcer to a chorus of klaxons around Olympia. Inevitably, the crowd
contains a sprinkling of Celtic strips. "Ah, the Celtic fans - they make it
everywhere, " says Larsson afterwards.

In the 91st minute he adds a second goal, Helsingborg's third, with a simple
tap-in. Two minutes later he gives away possession in midfield and chases
back the length of the park. When the final whistle sounds seconds later he
is inside his own penalty area, hands on his knees having run 70 yards to
atone for his error.

"It's been a very difficult transition. The football's a lot slower than I'm
used to, " Larsson reflects. "I've had some trouble because, when I get the
ball, I have much more time than I'm used to, so I do some things too quick
at the moment. I need to settle down and get the ball. That will come the
more I train with the boys.

"You are always dependent on other players. At Celtic, the players around me
- [Alan] Thompson, [Chris] Sutton, [Stilian] Petrov, [Didier] Agathe - were
always looking for me. The players here need to get to know me Henrik
Larsson grew up in a modest block of flats in the Narlunda district of
Helsingborg. Little has changed in the tranquil suburb. Just along the road,
nestling in an idyllic spot enclosed by trees, lies Harlyckan Park, home of
Hogaborg BK, the amateur club that spent 15 years honing the talents of the
country's greatest-ever striker. Helsingborg FC may have been the club that
first gave his talents a greater stage - eventually securing him a move to
the Dutch club Feyenoord in 1993 - but Larsson's heart remains with
Hogaborg. "Even though this [Helsingborg] was the club that got me out into
Europe, all the hard work they [Hogaborg] put in made me able to achieve
what I did, " recalls Larsson, who has provided financial assistance to the
Swedish third-division club and been back to present Young Player of the
Year awards.

"Hogaborg is my club, " he says. "They always took good care of me and were
always interested. For example, if I did something bad at school, they would
know straight away. That wasn't so much fun, but it taught me the difference
between right and wrong. They always had an eye out for you and that's why I
think a lot of players like the club."

Kenneth Karlsson, his first coach, mentor and lifelong friend, first clapped
eyes on his protege when Larsson was just six years old. If the
honey-skinned complexion and mop of tight brown curls did not already mark
him out from the crowd, his skill and speed left Karlsson in no doubt he had
a unique talent on his hands. Mats Magnusson, the legendary Swedish striker
who played for Benfica, is another to have benefited from formative years
spent with Hogaborg, and products of its system are sprinkled throughout
Swedish football. Today 700-800 youngsters are involved in the system, with
an equivalent number attending the neighbouring club Eskilsminne, which
shares the same facilities. A commitment to community-based sport - for both
sexes - is the key to Swedish sporting success and its influence extends far
beyond the winning of trophies, and into wider society.

Karlsson bristles at the perception of Hogaborg as some kind of football
factory. Instead, he maintains its role is to produce the man or woman first
and the footballer second. "We have a very big social function, particularly
15 to 10 years ago, " he says. "Helsingborg FC want to produce the
footballer, mainly, but we follow the kids' development and see what they
are doing outside the pitch and the school. We try to take part in some
social work in the community and we have extensive football programmes. The
pleasure of seeing young people develop is a very fulfilling job."

Also a teacher at Larsson's school, Karlsson took a keen interest in his
upbringing. He recalls a happy youngster, though one who was no stranger to
adversity. Larsson's father, Francisco Rocha, a sailor from the Cape Verde
Islands off the west African coast, and mother Eva Larsson, a factory worker
from Helsingborg, separated when he was 12 years old, and his dark skin made
him a target for racism. Verbal abuse was often answered with his fists,
though the green sward of grass at Hogaborg also became a platform to
silence the taunters.

"Obviously I didn't enjoy it [racism], but I fought and won most of the
battles, " recalls Larsson. "I also discovered that, when you are good at
something, people forget the colour of you. All over the world now they're
trying to open up the borders and you can't afford to be that
narrow-minded."

A late bloomer in football terms, Larsson worked as a fruit and vegetable
packer, a youth worker and a lifeguard before turning semiprofessional with
Helsingborg FC at the age of 20. "The first thing I said was, 'This is not
what I want to do for the rest of my life . . . this can't be the meaning of
my life, '" he says. "At the same time, I admire and respect the people who
can do it. But I was lucky. I was born with a talent and I did something
with it."

At Hogaborg, his legacy endures. As I enter the gates of Harlyckan Park, a
young man approaches with his training kit slung over his shoulder. Betim
Bajrami is a 17-year-old striker with a passing resemblance to his hero. He
started his football development as a five-yearold at Helsingborg, but
switched to Hogaborg three years ago to get used to the rigours of senior
football. He proudly informs me that he has recently broken into the senior
squad and scored two goals in their last friendly. "My goal, since I was
small child, was to become a professional footballer, " he says seriously.
"When you play in a club of this size, you think, 'What am I doing here?'
But then you look at Henrik and see that he managed it. It is possible.
Every week you hear about Hogaborg on the TV and it is because of Henrik.
The Premiership is my favourite league and Manchester United my favourite
team. That is what I dream about."

The Hogaborg clubhouse sits 200 metres from the park. The interior is
modest, with eight sets of tables and chairs spread across the back room and
an old leather sofa in front of a widescreen TV. The walls are covered with
photographs and football paraphernalia. A Barcelona strip with "Larsson 7"
on the back hangs beside two Sweden strips and several pendants. A recent
picture shows young Hogaborg players in Celtic strips huddled around a "well
done Henke" sign, all sticking their tongues out for the camera. Photographs
of Larsson through the ages adorn the wooden walls. One shows him as a
dreadlocked, freshfaced teenager beside Magnusson, whom he would later play
alongside for two memorable years at Helsingborg, when their goals would
steer the club back to the top flight for the first time in 24 years.
Another team photograph dates back to 1983 and shows Larsson standing next
to Fredrik Bjork, his best friend since the age of two. Bjork is a full six
inches taller, as are most of his team-mates, a result of Larsson's
insistence on playing a year above his age level.

It emerges that Bjork still stays in the neighbourhood and teaches in the
school less than half a mile away. A couple of phone calls later, we have
arranged to meet. Bjork is a likeable, contented man, sporting a Run DMC
T-shirt and blue jeans, with a mop of brown hair. He just seems relieved to
have his best mate back in town. "He's home now, " says the 36-year-old,
with a satisfied grin. "Since he's been back we've played golf, had a
barbecue, gone out for lunch, gone to the beach with our families. I have
two kids - one is 10 and the other is eight - so it's natural for our
families to be close too."

Like Karlsson, Bjork has visited Larsson in every country he has played in
and speaks warmly of their friendship. "I am very proud and protective of
him, " he says. "We were together so much as young boys that you start to
take care of each other. We have the same humour. He's very funny when he's
with friends. You can count on him when you need something. He always keeps
his word." Bjork recalls climbing the wall at Harlyckan Park for endless
games of football. "We would put the ball on the edge of the six-yard box
and blast it as hard as we could, " he says. "If the goalkeeper saved it,
then you would have to do a dare. We were always very competitive. We were
bad losers and good winners."

As if to prove Bjork's point, Larsson confirms he would like to end his
career at Hogaborg, if only to eclipse his friend's goal- scoring record
(Bjork turned out for Hogaborg as a striker until his late teens). "I want
to be able to finish at Hogaborg because he has scored six more goals than
me, and I can't have that, " he says. So he'll score seven then retire?
"That would be the ideal, " he laughs. "It would be nice to close the circle
that way." Not that his eventual retirement will end the Larsson association
with Hogaborg - his son Jordan is now in their youth set-up and showing some
promise as a striker.

With trademark pragmatism, Larsson has always maintained the time to bask in
his achievements will be at the end of his career. Unsurprisingly, though,
the events of May 17 this year, when Barcelona came back from a goal behind
to win the Champions League final against Arsenal, are fresh in the mind.
His 33 minutes as a second-half substitute proved arguably the greatest
contribution by any player in the club's recent history. Two assists for
goals brought Barcelona back from a goal down and secured the trophy for
only the second time in their history.

The disgruntled post-match rant of Arsenal forward Thierry Henry has been
widely criticised, but contained one kernel of truth. "People always talk
about Ronaldinho but I didn't see him today - I saw Henrik Larsson, " he
said moments after the final whistle. "That is what killed the game.
Sometimes you talk about Ronaldinho and Eto'o and people like that. You need
to talk about the proper footballer who made the difference and that was
Henrik Larsson tonight."

Asking Larsson for his memories of that balmy night in Paris is like turning
on a tap. Equalling the feats of some of his former Celtic team-mates and
colleagues who had won the European Cup with other teams appears to give him
great satisfaction. "After everything with Seville I couldn't stand losing
another one. I couldn't stand it, " he says. "Getting a chance to
participate and do something good when you get on the pitch is excellent.

"It's the biggest thing you can win as a player except the World Cup, and
I've got it [the Champions League medal] in my pocket. Nobody can take it
away from me. And now John Clark and Paul Lambert and John Robertson can't
say anything either. The cup with the big ears . . . I've got it as well.
I'm in that club and I'm very happy with that."

As the sands of time run down on his career, Larsson has started to reflect
on life after football. Four years ago he told The Herald: "Never in a
million years will I become a coach or a manager." The passing years have
softened his stance, though. "My wife's sitting over there and I promised
her I won't do it [management], " he laughs, gesturing to the next table
where Magdalena Larsson and Janelle are waiting patiently for him. "But in
the last few years it's something I've been thinking about a little bit
more. It'd have to be senior level. The players would have to be able to do
what I tell them to do. But for now there's still football to be played."

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