Yor Bjorven, the Icelandic Ironman

[Rin 161]

If you were to return to Yor Bjorven's hometown and ask of his origin, nary a soul would be able to give you a satisfying answer.

 

Residing in the small town of Akranes, Iceland, Yor Bjorven is most known for his quiet, welcoming presence behind the bar of a local tavern-style brewery and pub. A venue rich in wood paneling and rustic decor, it's a small hole-in-the-wall type of spot in an already sparse and close-knit town. With only a few employees on hand to pour fresh meads and beers, and perhaps cook up a bar snack or two, Yor Bjorven and his small crew are revered as local legends for those in the know. The stress and trouble of any bad day can be washed away after a night within those walls, surrounded by naught but good friends and good drink.

 

Of those legendary few, however, Yor Bjorven sticks out as particularly mythical. None know where he lives, as his nights ends with him retreating back into the more mountainous regions of inland Iceland. Like the age-old American legends of Paul Bunyan or even Johnny Appleseed, the 6 foot 3 inch brickhouse of a man retreats into the wild to live as he so pleases. Sometimes, he returns with a cooler full of fish to cook as a special for the evening. Occasionally, he'll return with Duck or other poultry that, assumedly, were felled and collected by his own two hands. Nobody has ever seen Yor Bjorven outside of the small town, and none can vouch for what happens when he leaves its premises, but one things for certain-- all believe that he's an extraordinary man, capable of anything he deems possible.

 

Naturally, Yor Bjorven's true origins are entirely unknown. The only thing known for sure, confirmed through the lips of the man himself, is that he is a proud, native Icelander. None have tried digging deeper into his past, for nobody cares to know or pry. All are fond of his gentle, giving soul, and are happy to simply live, let be, and enjoy the times before them.

 

While hockey is a small and ever-growing sport in the country of Iceland, it finds itself popular enough among a small group of people within the limits of Akranes, Yor Bjorven included. When drink and dinner aren't enough to wipe the stresses of a long day away, the inner circle of Akranes find themselves out on the pond or at the local rink for regular games of pick-up ice hockey. It's here that Yor Bjorven continued to add to his legend, and begin a hockey journey that would eventually see him off into the VHL system. Leveraging his six-foot-three frame and his unnaturally graceful movement, the mythical Icelander commands respect within the crease as the city- nay, the nation's- best goaltender. Sharing a laugh and friendly competition with the regular patrons and staff of his bar, Yor Bjorven commands respect as he calmly positions himself to leverage his large frame and keep pucks out of the net. It's this dominance, combined with his odd man-of-the-land, that earned him the nickname of "the Icelandic Ironman."

 

Of course, Iceland isn't a nation known for it's hockey pipeline whatsoever. Only a select handful of esteemed Icelandic individuals have played in the NHL at all, none if you consider only the more modern era of the world's iconic hockey organization. Any Icelandic players made their mark on an early 1920's era game. In the VHL, only a single player of Icelandic origin has made into the upper echelon of the system-- current Vancouver Wolves blueliner, Einar Mathiesen. Through 97 seasons of the Victory Hockey League, Mathiesen hold the claims to being the FIRST Icelandic player to partake in a major league game. By starting this journey, Yor Bjorven hopes to become only the second, and additionally the first Icelandic goaltender to make it. Notably, The S91 Ottawa Lynx goalie Olafur Gunnleifsson came close to staking the claim for himself, but fell just short as he topped out as a serviceable goalie in the VHLM system.

 

It's unknown just who made it all the way out to Akranes to scout the local beer league game which brought Yor Bjorven overseas. Whoever spectated the event left only a letter on the door of Yor Bjorven's tavern, inviting him to come and try out against top-tier North American talent in the VHLM. Not one for the bright lights or fame and fortune that comes with being a professional athlete, the Icelandic Ironman would have promptly turned down (or rather, ignored) the offer were it not for the encouragement of his fellow beer-leaguers and tavern dwellers. Moved by the support of those closest to him, the burly Icelander said his goodbyes and swore to send a majority of his salary back home, so that the tavern and town might live just a little bit more comfortably. He departed by boat the next morning, venturing off to the United States and Canada to enter his name into the VHL draft.

 

With a little luck, and a large application of his talents, he hopes to etch his name into the VHL's history book. For those watching at home. For the livelihood he sought to protect, to improve. For Iceland.

 

879 words

Mentioned: @xsjack