Regular Behind the Scenes

The most fitting job title for Søren would probably be "equipment manager." His titles have varied over the seven years he's been employed by F.C. Copenhagen, but now his position is officially "Head Kitman." Here, Søren will give us some insights into what lies behind that title, and we’ll cover everything from how the shirts are kept white to N’Doye handing out shirts to everyone and even Neestrup’s wife’s underwear.

The taxi stops in front of Jens Jessens Vej 10 after a hectic rush-hour drive from Parken. I wander around the building, looking for Søren. Outside, I find only a rack of jackets hanging side by side to air out, along with a couple of cars, but otherwise, it’s empty.

I return to the main entrance, and just as I do, the door buzzes open. Søren is standing at the end of the stairs to greet me.

“I was thinking we’d sit upstairs, but the foosball table’s taken, so let’s sit in here on the left. Coffee?” Søren asks.

We grab some coffee and sit down. The tactics board on the table reveals what the room is usually used for during the busy hours of the day. Right now, it’s empty except for those playing foosball upstairs.

Søren is 43 years old, and although he’s only been employed by F.C. Copenhagen for the past seven years, his history with FCK goes back much further. He’s always been a devoted fan.

“I watched the very first TOTO Cup game at Østerbro Stadium as a little kid, and after following the team for many years, an opportunity suddenly came up to become the kitman. I had an interview with Ståle and Daniel Rommedahl, and well, it’s just been going ever since.”

One of the reasons Søren got the job at F.C. Copenhagen was the desire for a slightly younger team on 10'eren (the club's training facility). He’s the oldest in the team, which consists of three kitmen in total.

Søren typically arrives at 7:45 AM on regular weekdays. If it’s a match day, he needs to be at the stadium four hours before kickoff, whether it’s home or away, to unload the van and get everything ready for when the players and the rest of the squad arrive.

“My main task is handling the daily training setup. Making sure there’s clothing for players and coaches, the balls are pumped, and so on. While we’re running daily training, we also pack all the equipment needed for matches. Everything from the smallest defibrillator to winter clothing, three jerseys for each player, spare shorts, hats, gloves – everything.”

It sounds like an extensive packing list, and it certainly isn’t minor. Søren estimates that he and his two colleagues, Mikkel and Michael, pack around 600 kg of gear for each match, all of which needs to be transported back and forth.

After games, the kitman has to wait until the players are finished in the locker room before packing up. It takes about an hour and a half to leave the locker room. Only then can they head back to 10’eren.

“We’re not done until we get back and put the first load of laundry in. People often ask how we get the whites so clean after a game. It’s essential to start washing right away, and we use a long cycle.”

So that’s the secret to keeping the jerseys white?

“Yes, wash them immediately. People ask about the secret, but it’s the same as any housewife’s trick – Vanish. We use a lot of Vanish, good detergent, and no fabric softener.”

Søren’s answer prompts a new question, as fans might assume that players get new jerseys every game rather than reusing them.

And the shirts players give away after a match – is that on their own account?

“Players get six free jerseys; beyond that, they’re charged full price. It costs them, but with their salaries, most don’t mind. Some give away a lot of shirts. I think N’Doye set a record with 86 shirts in a season. He’d say he only gave them to kids, but he gave them to everyone,” Søren laughs.

There’s no formal education to become a kitman. Søren was trained for about six months by the previous kitman, Preben “Jet” Jensen, whom he fondly calls his mentor, “Yoda.” While much has changed and there’s more work than when Preben left, they still use many of Preben’s foundational systems.

Before this job, Søren worked with children for 15 years, and he jokes that there are clear parallels between that work and his current one.

“I usually say I’m still taking care of kids, but now they can reach all the shelves,” he jokes.

He’s quick to add that it’s a cozy job, and that transfer windows are like a kindergarten sometimes, with new ‘kids’ arriving in the room at Jens Jessens Vej. It’s not that they’re messy or that he’s picking up clothes everywhere.

“The players aren’t actually that bad. You should definitely mention that the coaches are even bigger slobs.”

Throughout the conversation, Søren tries to come up with a funny story, but it doesn’t quite happen until he suddenly exclaims:

“Ha! I actually washed Nees’ wife’s underwear the other day. It turned up in the laundry, or maybe it was more like a nightgown, but he made a video call to her while she was in the middle of the metro to ask if it was hers. It was. It shows how disorganized he is with those things.”

There’s generally a great atmosphere at 10’eren, and though it’s not in the job description, a kitman’s role also involves keeping morale high among players and staff in what Søren calls a “winning environment.”

“It’s a winning environment, but of course, not everyone always wins. You also need to be able to talk with those who aren’t having as much fun. I have lots of good and quirky conversations with those who are doing well, but also some with those who aren’t, and that’s part of the job too.”

The conversation then ranges over various topics, from how training camps are fun yet hard work, to the comparison to scout camps. As a kitman, Søren collects plenty of good memories and stories, but he does miss watching a football match without worrying about a broken shoelace or a captain’s armband that’s out of place.

“If there’s one thing I miss as a kitman, it’s the away and European trips. I’d love to spend more time in the stands. I enjoy meeting friends in the stands. You can miss that sometimes.”

As we wrap up and leave the room, Søren tells me that if he were no longer working for F.C. Copenhagen, he’d like to work for a betting company. He’s definitely done with childcare, both for those who can and can’t reach all the shelves.

“Don’t forget to mention Nees’ wife’s underwear!” he shouts after me as I head down the stairs about an hour later and disappear onto Jens Jessens Vej.