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Arnor Sigurdsson Biography [1/2]


bluesfan55

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Let’s go back.....

 

The year is 2001. Icelandic soccer star Sigurd Bjarnason, a three-time Icelandic Player of the Year, who, regarded with Eidur Gudjohnsen, among others, is one of Iceland’s best athletes of all time. Bjarnason, a spry 29, was on holiday. He’d suffered a fairly serious leg injury while playing for his club, Borussia Monchengladbach, against Bundesliga rivals Hansa Rostock on February 21. Rostock centerback Jan Kohfeldt had come in with a lunging tackle, breaking his leg. It was tough for him. His fellow Scandinavian, Meinhardt Larsen, was left alone without his best friend. So, Bjarnason flew back to Iceland, where his pregnant wife was waiting. Three days later, at 1:23 pm on February 24, Sigurd’s wife Ingrid gave birth to a boy at a hospital in Reykjavik, Iceland. They named him Arnor Thor Sigurdsson. Arnor was fortunate enough to live with his father and mother in Germany for a few years during his dad’s playing career in Monchengladbach. It was there that he met and became instant friends with Meinhardt Larsen’s first son, who was born in 2002. His name? Jákup Larsen. Most of you may know Jákup today as a second line right winger for the Windy City Cyclones of the NSHL, where he’s been a solid producer for the team after being drafted 53rd overall in the inaugural NSHL Draft. But back then, in 2003, Arnor was 2 and Jákup was 1. The two would spend their time together playing with toys like LEGO Duplos and watching their fathers play for Die Föhlen. The next year, Sigurd retired. He’d suffered another injury, but had achieved his two biggest accomplishments: leading Iceland to their first World Cup (they made it to Korea-Japan 2002, beating Belgium in a playoff and making it to the Round of 16, where Brazil beat them 2-0) and winning the Bundesliga (he’d done it in 2004, his last season). Arnor, now 3, could speak full sentences in both Icelandic and German, and was also learning English, a skill that would serve him well in the future (unbeknownst to him). He succeeded in school and was regarded as a bright student. Moving back to Iceland was hard for Arnor. Even though he could speak the language, he was leaving behind his friend Jákup, who was moving to the Faroe Islands. His family settled in Reykjavik, where Arnor would make 3 great friends: Brandur Neilsson, Andre Sigurdsson, and Ingi Ragnarsson. The four were unseparable. They played soccer together for Valur Reykjavik’s youth teams. Brandur was quiet but loved to play video games. Andre was tall and had brown hair like Arnor, so they were commonly confused for each other. Ingi, the son of an Ecuadorian father, was one of the funniest people Arnor had ever met.  By 2012, the four were not only succeeding in school, but on the pitch as well. Arnor and Andre formed a potent attacking force. Brandur was a fast and strong right midfielder, and Ragnarsson played behind him at right back. But this team was notable for one reason: there were girls on the team. Valùr had become known across Europe for being a progressive team, signing Iceland women’s national team star Harpa Þorsteinsdottir from Stjarnan to play for the men’s team, and their youth teams were no different. With Sigurd Bjarnason, Arnor’s father, as coach, Valùr’s youth team signed two girls. One of them, Þórdis Cyrelsdottir, would strike up a quick and strong friendship with Arnor. This proved to be a turning point in Arnor’s life. He’d started to feel uninterested while playing football. Even though his tall frame at the age of 10 (Sigurdsson was a massive 5’10”) helped with his physical play and his normal style of play (Arnor was a physical center forward who was a good header of the ball), Sigurdsson had started to feel that his father was expecting more out of him then he could give. People saw Arnor as the next big Icelandic superstar purely based on the fact that his father was the best Icelandic footballer in history. And he was tired of it. Around that time, he’d been getting into hockey. His mom had bought him his first pair of skates for his 9th birthday, and besides FIFA, he’d spent a lot of time playing NHL video games as well. This came to a head in 2014. Arnor asked his mom to secretly sign him up for a youth hockey team based in Reykjavik, which she agreed to. Sigurdsson had had enough with football, which had been his first love. He kept playing it, but slowly was losing interest in the game. And his friends noticed this. After practice on one June day, Andre asked Arnor what had been going on. Arnor had to spill the beans. “Andre, I’ve been losing interest in football. I took up hockey last year, and it’s been one of the best experiences of my life. I really enjoy playing hockey. It feels liberating not to have the weight of a whole nation’s expectations on your shoulders.” Now let it be known, Arnor loves Iceland. The people there are very friendly and close-knit. But they’re maniacal for football. You’ve seen them at Euro 2016. They love the sport and if cut open would probably bleed the colors of their teams. Arnor had taken a step away from it to one of the lesser sports in the nation. And he’d been impressing for a local youth team. Sigurdsson, now 6’1” at the age of 14, was known as a scorer who was very imposing physically due to his large frame and strength. His consistent performances week in and week out were consistently viewed by his mother, who was proud of her son. Arnor began skipping football practices at Valur to play hockey. His now girlfriend, Þórdis, had noticed that one day Arnor didn’t show up to practice. He was always at practice, so this was news to her. One day at school (where Arnor was now learning Swedish, another language that he’d use later), she asked him why he’d missed practice. Like with Arnor a month before, he told her everything. And she was fine with it. Everyone was (on the team, anyways). But one day, after missing practice again, his father noticed. Arnor had just snuck home from a practice with his hockey team when his father opened the door for him. “Son, you’ve been missing practice a lot recently. Why have you been playing hockey behind my back?” Arnor took a deep breath and replied. “Dad, I’ve been disillusioned with footy for a while now. The entire nation is expecting me to be the next you. Iceland’s great hope, they call me. Well, I feel like I’m being held to expectations that are too high. When I go out there and play, I don’t feel the same enjoyment that I used to when I played as a younger kid. Hockey is the only sport I can play under anonymity. Where I can play without feeling a whole nation expecting me to turn out into the next Icelandic footy wonderkid. I know you’re disappointed, but big teams have been interested in me. In fact, the man who drove me here is a coach for Skelleftea of the Swedish Hockey League. It’s one of the best in Europe, and they’re willing to sign me. They’ll pay for my lodging with their youth teams. I can develop my skills in a country known for producing hockey talent. And maybe, one day, I’ll make it to one of the big leagues in North America.” Now, Arnor had been dreaming of playing in the VHL for a very long time. His hero was Grimm Jonsson, a VHL Hall of Famer who’d helped expose the hockey underground in Iceland. And Arnor was a beneficiary of that. Skelleftea happened to be in Iceland looking for the next Grimm Jonsson, and they felt that Arnor was that man. His father grudgingly agreed. His last day at school was a sad one. He told everyone about his choice. His girlfriend had decided to move with him. A local team near Skelleftea that played in the Dallsvenskan had signed her. They’d be living together in a house paid for by Arnor’s team. At the beginning, Arnor felt homesick. Iceland was greener and smaller than Sweden was. Even though he knew the language, Arnor’s play slipped. His scoring dropped and he started playing recklessly, racking up minor penalty after minor penalty. One day, club legend Joakim Lindstrom, who played for the first team, came to visit the youth team. He saw Arnor struggling and pulled him aside. “Kid, I know you have talent,” Lindstrom said. “Just keep working hard and you’ll go places. You’re here because we see something in you. This club is more than just a club. It’s a family. We’re all here to support you, even when you struggle.” Sigurdsson perked up, and had a strong practice. That strong practice translated to a strong season, and after that strong season, Skelleftea called him up to the first team. Sigurdsson had learned how to play the puck better, how to stick handle, and how to control his temper. Now, he was in the big time. And he fit in seamlessly. As a 16 year old in one of the best leagues in the world, a young Arnor Sigurdsson scored in his first game, against Vaxjo (one of the best teams in the league). This was a team that had produced NHLers like Viktor Arvidsson and Adam Larsson. Sigurdsson was determined to play well and earn the eye of scouts. And that he did. After a 40 point season, Sigurdsson was named the best young player in the NSHL. His 10 playoff points led Skelleftea to the SHL championship, knocking off HV71 in the final. And this attracted VHLM scouts, who’d been showing up regularly to Skelleftea games. After the championship game, a scout for the Ottawa Lynx came up to him. “Arnor, I’m a scout for a VHLM team. We want to sign you for the rest of the season. You can prove yourself in the minors before you’re drafted. I know it’s been your dream to play in the VHL. Now’s the time.” Arnor happily accepted, and told the head coach about his decision. “We wish you the best, Arnor. You’ve matured so much since you came here. You’ll always be a part of the Skelleftea family. He told his girlfriend, and they bought an apartment in Ottawa. After working for years, his dream came true. Arnor Sigurdsson was going to play in North America.

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