Grodman is getting friends amongst the local population. Old people and young people, everybody likes Grodman. But this daddy don’t seem to have taught his son not to talk to swetty men that smell of beer.

Like a group of American street sleepers we are sitting behind a garbage container drinking and waiting for the booze to kick in.

“So, how does this one work then?” Asking Nilses to take photos is just as intelligent as hiring a Parkinson patient as a clock repairman.

Just pee a little…

Some people say that Grodman looks like the finnish artist Markoolio. But we don’t know. Or?

It is hot, it is sweaty and the vodka is kicking in. Gabbe is suffering in the heat. Like always. He says that his inner thermostat have not been working properly since “The red bull race” during the Championships in Vienna in 1996

Plattan wanted to move on to the bus so it was just for us to suck in the last of the alcohol and walk on.

- What are you saying guys? Time to drink again or!

We drink and get drunk and we do it for Hockey and for the Swedish national team!!!

Nilses have figured out how the camera works.

Out at the arena it is time for some more drinking but first it is time to get up the fucking flag! Plattan looks like he is going to shit.

This is how it shall look!!! Now they know who is in town.

A passing Swedish (!) family where the daughter wanted to drum. Nilses, Grodman and very small kids really enjoy stuff that makes a lot of noise.

On the way to Pepsi Colisée.

We have found the mother load!!! The place where all the good and nice are located and that soon will squeeze the last life out of our livers. It is amazing that so much joy and fun can fit into such small bottles. Amazing!

Drumming and party together with the great fans from Czechia.