Now the Norsemen set their sights on World Cup glory - Susan Morrison
Could be wrong here, but I have a faint notion that the Norwegian football team has slightly misread the memo re: Football.
As I understand it, the beautiful game is all about the sport. Taking to the pitch to burn and loot is generally frowned upon. And yet, standing proud on the shore of a rocky fjord, here’s the official World Cup 2026 photo of their national squad, channelling full-on controlled Viking rage.
They are the baddest bunch of axe-wielding, shield-toting, longship-rowing warriors you ever did see. Swathed in fur, jaws flexed, these boys are eyeballing the camera, just one horn of ale from hitting berserker mode, the hint of muscle beneath the leather, linen and wool.
Yes, I have examined this photo in some detail, my friends. Well, with my interest in history, you’d expect that, wouldn’t you? It's not just to ogle some serious biceps, although it might be….
The Northmen are declaring war, 10th century style.
The photographer who dreamt this scenario is Glasgow-born David Yarrow. Clearly the Scots have forgiven the testy history between us and the Vikings.
To be fair, being a Norsemen’s neighbour was not an easy gig. They kicked off big time in 973 when they looted Lindisfarne Priory, the starting bell for a couple of centuries of industrial grade harrying, burning and generally running amok.
Hitting the highlands, islands and lowlands of Scotland was a doddle, because geographically they were living up the stairs from us. Orkney and Shetland were Norse strongholds. A quick bit of murder and mayhem was just a hop across the seas. Think Northlink ferries, but without the catering options. Or cabins.
Ironically, the ferry website boasts that their ships offer you a warm welcome. Hjaltland, Hrossey and Hamnavoe all sport a massive (and inaccurate) Viking warrior on the side.
Trust me, you saw those boys coming up the beach, you knew they weren’t coming to offer you a finger of shortbread and a yard of ale.
Vikings were led by legendary warrior earls, with names like Sigurd Hlodvirsson, Ragnar Lothbrok and Sigurd Eysteinsson. They don’t sound quite so scary when you discover the first two names translate into Sigurd the Stout and Ragnar Hairy Trousers.
Eysteinsson died of sepsis when he was ‘bitten’ by the head of a decapitated enemy that he’d hung from his saddle as a fashion statement. Let that be a warning to you all.
They did have a bit of a tendency to go tonto, as immortalised on the famous Lewis chesspiece. It’s the pawn, carved as a Norseman warrior so deranged he’s biting his own shield. He’s the ‘Berserker’. Defo my favourite. We’ve all had days like that.
We, the Scots, did take the Vikings down in the end, but it took us until 1263, when Alexander III gave them a kicking at Largs.
I imagine today’s footballing Vikings intend to fly in some comfort to the USA, rather than take the oars of their famous dragon-prowed ships to row to the shores of New England. The notion of shield-chewing berserkers surging past American border control is so Dark Ages
Mind you, Trump once said he wanted immigrants from “nice countries” like Norway. Be careful what you wish for, Mr President. The sons of Ragnar Hairy Trousers coming up the beach would seriously give your ICE agents a run for their money.