Anyone care to translate?
Looks like he's commenting on a news article about the wrong hockey player getting picked up at the airport - this is just basic Google translate:
SPORTBLADET
Everything seems to be right when Sörhaga / Alingsås picks up its new acquisition at Landvetter.
He's Slovak, he's muscular, he has a hockey trunk.
But they drive home with the wrong guy.
It's Sunday and it's ten o'clock.
Sörhaga / Alingsås, a resident of Hockeytrean, has sent defender Erik Martinsson and forward Alexander Gidebring to pick up the new acquisition Martin Chonavec at Landvetter airport.
They have only seen the Slovak in a picture in full hockey attire, but how tricky should it be to identify him?
Alingsås newspaper was the first to write about the story, but we could not refrain from calling Erik Martinsson and letting him answer the question:
- Even such a simple task can be difficult, he says.
What happened?
- I see that a guy drops a hockey bag outside Landvetter. Good, there he is, good. He's talking on the phone so he does not understand that I'm telling Martin to him.
Is everything just a joke?
The 40-minute drive north is strange. The Slovak looks older than expected. He is long-haired and bearded, seems to weigh around a hundred foreheads. He talks about Västanfors bandy, a strange topic of conversation, but he may have played another sport before.
They arrive. They accommodate Martin Chonavec in his upcoming accommodation and drive to Nolhalla.
- When we stand outside the ice rink, he asks "where is the bandy arena?" and we shake our heads. No, no, we're playing in here. "But the games?". Yes, they too.
Martin seems confused. Alexander Gidebring throws out a control question, to find out if they are dealing with a difficult-to-decipher Slovak joke.
- Are you kidding?
- I do not know. Maybe.
They go to the dressing room where a place is arranged for the addition. There will be a training match against Partille HK in an hour or so. The materialist visits Martin and asks if he needs a helmet and trousers.
- So ... you really play hockey here? he says in English.
- Who the hell are you? Erik asks.
- My name is Peter Beneš. I'll play bandy in Borås.
"He tanned himself to death"
Pling, pling, pling, pling. It's the sound of an ikea box full of tokens falling down. My God, they picked the wrong Slovak. This one would be 40 km east, to Borås Bandy.
- Our guy had been on the other side but we had not seen him. The odds are not so great that two people from Slovakia land with a hockey trunk on the same day, but this time it apparently did, says Erik Martinsson.
At least, still on Landvetter, the snaggy Martin Chonavec stands and wonders where his ride ended up. Borås Bandy are also puzzled, they have been there and turned around when no Peter Beneš showed up.
It takes a few calls to sort everything out. One Slovak is transported east, another is picked up at the airport and thrown directly into match play. Alingsås loses 4-1 but it must be shit the same on a day like this.
- We are better when the series starts, says Erik Martinsson.
What did Martin say in the car?
- He tanned himself to death. He had seen us drive away with the wrong guy, so he wondered which two blondes the club had hired. But you know, you have to recruit everyone you can.
Yes, what a coup it could have been.
- Yes, what if Peter was a little shy and did not say no. By then he had stayed where we accommodated him and settled for hockey instead of bandy.