It took Montpellier four years to lift the trophy. And just like the four times I won the EHF Champions League, the pattern was pure craziness.
We lost by eight in Pamplona in the first leg of the final. The return leg promised to be wild. It was completely nuts. Like, proper nuts. Bougnol, the arena Montpellier were playing in, was on fire. That night, everybody had the perfect game, and we won by 12. We had 15,000 people on the city’s main square watching the game and then welcoming us with the trophy the next day.
Mayhem. Like, we celebrated all night, pure craziness. Those are memories that will remain forever.
Two years later, it was time to move somewhere else. I got a call from Kiel, a club that wanted me to help them finally win their first EHF Champions League. Bingo, off we go. And it happened quickly, actually, as 10 months later, THW was on top of Europe.
The final itself was also something special.
First, we were playing against Flensburg, a proper derby for the people in Kiel. We drew in the first leg away, and you could feel the anticipation in the Ostsee Halle before the game.
I have a small insight for you. A few weeks before the game, Stefan Lövgren injured himself. That was clear, he could not play the final. So, we did things without him in the first game. But before the second, Noka Serdarusic had the idea to put him on the squad list. It was agreed that he would not play, just be there because he was such a character. He had a presence that could only bring us some positive.
And then, game day, I went out on the court, starting to warm up. A massive cheer comes up from the stands. I turn around, and Stefan is running on the court. He did not play one second, but I’m sure his presence gave everyone on our side a few more percent of focus.