I recognise something deeply Scandinavian about Ødegaard. Even though he’s so young he’s emanating old school Scandi. Across Scandinavia there’s a cultural code, in Sweden it’s called Jantelagen, in Norway and Denmark, Janteloven. It can mean exhibiting a quietness, a dignity, a humility, a communal integrative approach, keeping your head down, working hard. It’s about respecting others for their existence rather than for their utility. It’s about collective accomplishments and collective well-being. And of course, it’s slowly being whittled away.
Naturally, there are ways of (mis)interpreting this cultural quirk, this resistance to trumpeting oneself, especially in the current climate where concepts of collective well-being are so often dismissed with a fishy and suspicious glance. But let’s not forget that Football is a team game and Ødegaard is unmistakably Janteloven in his style, both on and off the pitch.
Perhaps counter-intuitively to those who don’t experience this cultural mode, that’s why he is the perfect Captain. It’s why Ødegaard can stand in the huddle and listen to Xhaka’s fiery-eyed sermons without the need to platform himself. It’s why Ødegaard has his arm around a team-mate’s shoulders at the moment of error or foolishness. It’s why Ødegaard motors away in the centre like Arsenal’s Swiss watch mechanism with a boundless determination to drive the team forward, always the team, the team.
It’s also why, in Arteta’s phrase, “the others listen to him when he speaks”. Because they know Ødegaard is speaking on behalf of the collective and not himself. Ødegaard is the world’s youngest village elder, he is a voice by the longhouse fire that speaks for all. He is a man to be trusted. Mikel Arteta, to his enormous credit, understood this immediately and appointed this young villager to the head of the council. Arsenal has players with more miles in their legs and more games under their belts. Arsenal has players with louder voices, warrior voices, manic voices, passionate voices, fist-wavers and sword bearers, but they all look across the room at Ødegaard’s contemplative blue eyes and wait for the softly spoken word of wisdom that encapsulates all their needs.
Ødegaard’s journey to trusted elder has been as unlikely as it’s been pragmatic. He’s seemingly been engaged in a never ending footballing thought experiment. Even during his transformation on the world stage from a fifteen year old Norway national player, to a twenty-three year Arsenal Captain, as his cherubic features seemingly remain unchanged, his powers only increase and intensify, as if he’s both fleeting and eternal at the same time.
The world’s youngest village elder spent thousands of hours on Norwegian gravel, grass and plastic pitches before being smuggled away to the football laboratories of Real Madrid where he bounced between Spanish Tiki-Taka and Dutch Total Football. He matured in the hothouse of European excellence, surrounded by superb players, nurturing his ever growing spectrum of skills, honing his abilities, until he finally found his natural habitat at the Emirates.
This ongoing Ødegaardian footballing thought experiment equipped him to confront impossible situations and concoct instantaneous solutions. He plays with the unbelievable ability to flip from a player engaged in a microscopic battle of minuscule advantages, nutmegging and drag-backing in the tiniest of vacuums left by opponents, to a player who can launch massive haymaker passes across the entire macrocosm of the pitch, directly onto a team mate’s stride, without even seeming to look up.
But don’t allow Ødegaard’s scholarly approach lull you into a false sense of his delicacy. His handling of the ball may reveal a whole new dimension of athletic subtlety where thinking and feeling morph into one beautiful dance, he may perform his role calmly and coolly like a man possessed by an ancient line of footballing spirits, but behind his icy intellect he shares a certain not-to-be-messed-with quality with another cerebral yet steely Arsenal legend. Both Ødegaard and Dennis “The Iceman” Bergkamp have that instantly recognisable and intimidating quality, that heady cocktail of Tiki-Taka skill and Total Football mentality that others both covet and fear.
With Ødegaard as captain, Arteta’s Arsenal are street smart for sure, with the emphasis on the smart. Back in the day Bergkamp was the magician, magicking new geometric shapes in real time, but his sharpest angles were his elbows, the dude was tough. He bamboozled the opposition by deftly devising new un-imaginables right in front of them like an eccentric footballing genius, but God help anyone who thought they’d bring The Iceman down a peg or two. Those glacial elbows and a twist of the hips restored the hierarchy pretty quick.
And Ødegaard is the same. He’s more than equipped to appear out of nowhere like a Norwegian Sea Eagle and tumble any pesky crow out of his airspace when needed, boom boom and down they go. He’s inclined to clip an ankle or snag a shoulder or seize a shirt when the village demands a sacrifice. That’s what this brilliant Captain is like. Full of calm intelligence whilst playing beautifully, but also tough and flinty and shrewd. This is beauty balanced by practicality. This isn’t your Diego Costa style snarling and thuggery, this is Bergkamp style artistry and cunning.
Bergkamp and Ødegaard also share a line of footballing DNA. Zealous, concentrated, determined yet in love with the subtle virtuosity of the game, combining a spectacular blend of workmanship and artistry, like the footballing equivalent of a Da Vinci masterpiece. Both revel in whatever otherworldly move they’ve pulled off, but rather than expect applause, they manifest their accomplishments with a zen-like meditation, internalising the move for future reference, forever expanding their repertoire of endless qualities for future victories.
It’s a sign of Ødegaard’s stratospheric skills that when he plays like a human it feels like he’s having a breakdown. Expectations for him to bedazzle are permanently redlining. A misplaced pass somehow more shocking than an eye-of-the-needle threaded through ball. But it’s a sign of his village elder maturity and Bergkampian DNA that errors are taken in his stride as he calmly gets on with the next move, his ego neatly packed away, his intense football mind immediately whirring away on full alert.
Arteta and Edu have an eye. Together they’ve detected some astonishing gems washed up and buried in the sands of unfulfilled potential. Even their most experienced signings, Jesus and Zinchenko, feel as if, with Arteta’s help, they’ve clambered from their half-discarded dunes and re-shone like crazy diamonds. But Arteta and Edu plucked Ødegaard from open sight for anyone to see, once a coveted jewel, lost somewhat in the hectic clamour for the latest shiny thing, sitting there on the surface, patiently waiting for a true connoisseur to re-recognise his genuine value. And since being placed in the chair of responsibility oh how he has shone.
It’s an enormous pleasure watching the resurrection of Arsenal under the tutelage of a young manager, carefully tending his young players. But for me, one of the most satisfying pleasures is watching the all-embracing captaincy of a young man, who with the quietness, dignity and humility of a true born leader is taking the Arsenal Clan into the future..
I believe in the collective spirit. I’ll believe in supporting the wellbeing of everyone, not just a selected few. So for Arsenal to have a true Janteloven hero as captain brings a tear of joy to my eye.
Brilliant player. Brilliant captain. Brilliant Team!
This excellent guest post is by Jonathon Foster, who as just started his own website to amuse lovers of Arsenal and the written word….
You can read more by Jonathon on Arsenal Wonderland…
Watch the amusing and informative Deadline Day Podcast (Good or bad?) from the famous Dublin Arsenal – Plus previewing the weekend’s game against Everton
Please enjoy, watch and subscribe to JustArsenalVids
