Mjällby's miracle front and centre of extraordinary Swedish story

Former third-tier club with no financial muscle from remote municipality of 14,000 inhabitants are leading country's top flight. Nick Ames tells the tale

- Nick Ames

For Mjällby's opponents, a trip to the far south of Sweden feels like a journey to the Earth's end. "When teams come on here on the bus they drive and drive, through the farms, past the fishing harbours," says Hasse Larsson. "They keep driving and then, when they can't drive any further, they find our stadium."

They discover an institution whose heart and soul are rooted in Sölvesborg, a remote municipality of 14,000 inhabitants. Nowadays they find a club front and centre of an extraordinary story unfolding in Allsvenskan, the country's top flight. Mjällby are four points clear at the top with 12 games left; they have lost once and, should they escape intact from a visit to the champions Malmö tomorrow, the unlikeliest of dreams will become vivid.

"I couldn't have imagined this, no way," says Larsson, the sporting director, who has occupied a variety of roles since joining as a player in 1979. He spent nine seasons captaining a club that climbed from the bottom before yo-yoing between the divisions. "We've never been in this situation before. We are a really good team now and we have a chance."

Establishing Mjällby at the top level has been viewed as a minor miracle. This is no story of a sugar daddy pumping money into obscure rural arrivistes; that would, in any case, be difficult given Sweden's fan-controlled ownership model. "We don't have the muscles to buy expensive players," Larsson says. "If you're to achieve something in this place, you have to work hard."

Larsson remembers growing up on the family's farm and slipping out to train despite his father's insistence that work needed doing at home. Farming kept paying the bills when, in 2016, he took his current position at a club that had sunk to the third tier. Mjällby were financially stricken. "I did the job for three years without pay," he says. "We had to start all over again and find people who could help us."