Swedish Fans in Malmo — Football Case Study

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Dispatch: a series dedicated to immersive storytelling, where our photographers and writers journey to chosen places, combining evocative imagery with long-form editorials to uncover and share unique football cultures.

In Malmö, Midsummer Highs Trickle Into Football
WORDS Jonas Jørs Skovgaards
PHOTOGRAPHY Kristian Salskov Storm

JUNE 2026

Besides a few people wearing the iconic yellow strip with blue markings, as well as an older couple wearing midsummer headdress, the city seems empty for a Saturday afternoon. We arrived in Malmö at around 4 PM. Can it really be possible that, at this time and under these circumstances, the city is partially abandoned. Perhaps half the city vanished in some sort of midsummer ritual?

I then hear some Danish being spoken, only to turn around and notice a young family, sporting the very same yellow and blue. If I were to use one word to describe what I felt at that moment, it would be appalled. As a Dane myself, I could never imagine putting on a Sweden-shirt.

Not because I’m the nationalistic type, far from it actually, but it is just innate in me. I’ve grown up seeing Sweden as sort of an annoying sibling that comes out of their room every now and then, to aim a provoking jab at us Danes, either for how weird our language is or that we drink a lot of beer. Both of which are true. So going to Malmö to report on a game for a World Cup, in which Denmark failed to qualify, I was expecting the worst. How many times am I going to be subjected to comments about our failure to qualify? A man can only take so much.

We wandered around Malmö’s inner city for a good while. I knew where we wanted to go, but not how to get there. At last, we decided to follow the yellow shirts, which seemed to be going in the same direction. Surely that would bring us to the right place. We were aiming for Slottsparken, more specifically Lördagsplan, a large patch of grass by the Malmö City Library, where a big screen was supposed to show the game.

We agreed that we must be close, but we just couldn’t seem to either hear or catch a glimpse of anything resembling an assembly of people. But all of a sudden, when crossing one of the bridges connecting the greenery, we see it; a sea of yellow and blue to our left. At this time, we’re still two and a half hours away from kick-off, but these people seem to have been here for hours, to make sure that they get the best seats in town. Setups consisted of lawn chairs, blankets and disposable barbecues to grill sausages and bread, foodcarts and trucks parked along the roadside for refreshments, as well as kids having a kick-about in front of the screen before kickoff.

I meet Eric and Nicklas, who are enjoying the midsummer-sun with hotdogs and beer on the lawn: “For Swedish people, as soon as the sun comes out, the energy just spikes through the roof. Especially with midsummer yesterday, everyone is happy. Some people here are still drunk from yesterday” Eric says. It’s clear that this time of year is special to the Swedes. Combining that with the World Cup, “it gives people an excuse to come together.”
I also meet Amar and Nicholas, who had spent the day trying to get shirts for the game, but midsummer meant that most stores were closed. But in the end, it all worked out, as here they are sitting in yellow and blue. They are optimistic about their chances, and with good reason. Sweden have hit the ground running. A 5-1 win over Tunisia to start their World Cup must surely have sent some optimism through the Swedes.

Especially after their abysmal start to qualifying, spearheaded by Danish national team icon turned manager Jon Dahl Tomasson. Failing to win a single game, as well as only two draws, in a group consisting of Switzerland, Kosovo and Slovenia, is disappointing for a team that boasts two of the best strikers in the world, in Alexander Isak and Viktor Gyökeres, as well as an array of young and talented players across the midfield, such as Lucas Bergvall and Yasin Ayari and a backline consisting of players from top five leagues, such as Viktor Lindelöf and Isak Hien. This led to the first ever sacking of a manager of the men's national team. Yes, ever.

However their stellar performance in the Nations League, had secured them a spot in the playoffs to qualify for the World Cup. The hire of Graham Potter, who had formerly led Swedish minnows Östersunds FK from the fourth tier of Swedish football, to the conquering of Arsenal at the Emirates, gave some cause for hope.

“This team could become really great,” Nicholas says. “It’s a bit early at the moment, but they could become a new great Swedish team”. Eric and Nicklas share that sentiment: “When Zlatan was playing, it’s like when Cristiano Ronaldo is playing. It’s a team based around one person. I think we need a complete team, if we want to pull this off.” However, “nothing compares to the Zlatan-teams” according to Amar who has an almost self-evident pride in his voice.

As I’m speaking to Amar and Nicholas, a group of orange-clad Dutchmen find their way into the park, to immense boos and jeers. The place is starting to get filled to the brim. With only barricades at a length of about 65 feet to each side and the woods accompanying the park, serving as a blockade to the back, nothing is keeping the people of Malmö from watching this game together. The most nimble of the spectators even find themselves in trees and tall playground structures.

It is also around this time that we notice something very distinct about the city of Malmö; its diversity. Serving as the entrypoint of Sweden to the southwest, connecting with the rest of Europe through Denmark, immigrants heading for Sweden naturally enter Malmö first. It is estimated that 55% of residents have at least one parent born outside of Sweden. Malmö is home to people from 187 different nationalities, with countries such as Iraq, Syria, Denmark and former Yugoslav nations serving as some of the major contributors to Malmö’s diverse residence pool.

This is also reflected in the Swedish team, which shows this multicultural aspect of the city and the country as a whole. Players like Alexander Isak, Isak Hien, Taha Ali, Yasin Ayari and Anthony Elanga, who himself was raised in Malmö until age 11, all being direct descendants of immigrants. Not to mention the third generation Swedish-Hungarian Viktor Gyökeres, who is a very popular man around these parts. I ask Amar, who just so happens to be of Lebanese descent, what it means to him to have a team that reflects this diversity: “Honestly, for me it doesn’t really matter.” he says. “Even if they're from the Middle East, Africa or any other country on the continent. As long as they are playing for Sweden.”

We’re nearing kickoff and we can feel the anticipation and excitement. As the game gets underway, that slowly starts to fade. Just five minutes in, Brian Brobbey makes it 1-0. A disappointment falls upon the thousands of people that have filled up every crevice of Lördagsplan. Except of course for the small enclave of Dutchmen, that arise from their lawnchairs to celebrate. Just 12 minutes later, Brobbey makes it 2-0. Sweden are being outplayed. That 5-1 win just five days earlier is nowhere near anyone's mind at this point.

But as we reach halftime, there is still hope. The Swedes are a mellow and relaxed bunch, no one is to be discouraged by a little adversity. 47th minute, 3-0.

At this point I’m expecting the park to start emptying out. But to my surprise, people stay put, with only a few deciding to head home or back to the bar. Seven minutes later, 4-0. Surely now the anger must start to set in, surely they have had enough. But they’re still here. Is the sun numbing their sense of frustration? Not even a goal could salvage the mood, I thought. But here it comes, as Anthony Elanga, Malmö’s very own, is through on goal and makes it 4-1. From the noise that came from the goal, you would expect Sweden were still in with a chance, but with 30 minutes to go, that seems a distant fantasy. In the end, the Netherlands make it 5-1. A harrowing defeat. The exact same score that had befallen Tunisia, by the hands of the Swedes. Now, the Swedes suffer the same fate.

As the final whistle blows, a faint clapping starts in the crowd. And it grows bigger. Are they really clapping for their team, after being beaten 5-1? I couldn’t believe it. That would have never happened where I’m from. But it somehow makes sense.

From what I’ve gathered from the people I’ve talked to, as well as the general atmosphere surrounding this World Cup, the result is not what matters to the Swedes. It’s the fact that they can come together and celebrate the fact they are all Swedes, watching their own represent them during one of the best periods of the year. How can one be upset in times like this? —

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