Unlike many children in this age, Bjørn Ironside was no accident. He is a product of a line of legendary viking kings that date back to Björn Ironside in 855. Björn was a Swedish viking king known for his ruthless aggression. He raided further than almost any known viking to date, pushing all the way to the gates of Rome itself before finally being repelled and pushed back. Upon his defeat, Björn swore to himself and his followers that one day he would conquer the world. With this promise made, the generations began to progress. Times changed and so did people. Björn's legacy was mostly forgotten, his empire crumbled, and his descendants even eventually began life anew in Denmark. Now nearly 1200 years later, Björn 's descendant, Sven Ironhide fathered a child. The chosen one, named for the legacy of his family. This is that child's story.
Born to Sven Ironside, a hulking retired rugby player who stood to be 6'10, 330 pounds and his lovely wife, Ana Ironside who was 7'1, 280 pounds, only great things were expected of Bjørn. He was born June 25, 2010 weighing a massive 24 pounds. Any hope of having a fairly normal child was quickly squashed when Bjørn's tiny little fists broke the attending physician's nose while he was kicking and screaming. They wanted to ignore it, but the Ironsides knew that their child was destined for greatness.
Shortly before his birth, Bjørn's parents had moved to Detroit, Michigan. His mother got a job there as a proprietor and a museum. Sven had lived the life of a professional athlete. He'd been through the injuries and the concussions and he knew what would become of his son were they to put him down that path. He and Ana decided early on that they would raise the child in Ana's world. Around art and history and music. They'd teach him about the world and hopefully he'd become something gentle. Like a monk or something. This version of history was not to be.
Bjørn grew at a rapid rate. His parents were constantly having to buy new clothes to keep up with his size. By the time he turned three, the child weighed a full 60 pounds and stood 4 foot tall. It wasn't enough that he was almost the size of two other kids his size, he was also rowdy and had boundless energy to spare. It was tough for even Sven to keep up with. Still, they did their best to stay the course. That was until one night in October, 2014. Ana was at the museum on business and Sven was left to handle young Bjørn. Bjørn had been particularly quiet that night, so Sven was counting his blessings. He got the boy to bed and then went to unwind himself. About 30 minutes passed and Sven noticed it being unusually quiet. Bjørn was a lot of things, but he was not great at going to bed when he was supposed to and was never quiet for more than 10 minutes at a time. Something was wrong.
Sven rushed to the child's room, but there was absolutely no trace of him. The window was open and Sven knew Bjørn had escaped. The search began. For many, it was out of concern for the child's safety. For Sven and Ana, it was because they feared the kind of havoc their child could wreck if left to his own devices. It took two long days, but they finally found him.
The sight that the rescuers happened upon was grizzly. Bjørn was surrounded by three grizzly bear cubs who he had clearly been wrestling. They were circling the child, calculating their chance. The first one charged and Bjørn didn't budge. He held his ground and caught the cub by the snout, using his momentum and flipping him overhead. A second one charged and with one hand, Bjørn managed to catch it by the throat and choke slam it into the ground. The third decided better of its life choices and wandered of to the brush where shortly after the massive mamma bear emerged. She roared at the rescuers and charged them, sending them scattering.
Not much is known about the nature of the events that followed. Sven hired a group of hunters and they went out searching for the monster that kidnapped his child. There was no trace. Then about a week later as if by magic, Bjørn showed up again completely unscathed. Somehow the child had survived a week alone in the wilderness among grizzlies and seemed no worse for wear. It was then that Sven knew fate had spoken and any chance of his son living a normal life was a dream of the past. The child needed something to take his energy out on and so the legend of Bjørn Ironside began.
Most pee wee football leagues need children to be at least 8 years of age. The minimum requirements in weight was 60 pounds. Bjørn had the size to begin the sport, but not the age. Sven was desperate to keep the boy out of trouble, so with some clever workups he managed to convince a local pee wee coach that Bjørn was a little slow for his age, but he was definitely 8 years of age and was safe to play.
Bjørn became an immediate legend. He was on the small side due to being 4 years too young, so his coach initially started him at defensive end. He had surprising strength for a kid of his size, constant running over the kids across from him. He didn't quite understand the basics of going after the ball carrier at first and instead focused on absolutely humiliating the kid across the line from him. It worked. By the time he was 8, Bjørn had put on another 40 pounds. His parents moved him do a different team in Detroit so he could officially join a pee wee team. He was now one of the biggest kids in his pee wee league, so his coach shifted him to defensive tackle. That is when things finally clicked for Bjørn. That was when Bjørn fell in love.
His coach immediately picked up on his potential and worked Bjørn hard. He drilled into Bjørn's head that his one and only goal was to go after the guy with the ball. That was when Bjørn got his motto.
Coach: "Alright, Bjørn. You obviously have no problems getting by those kids up front. That's great, but I need you to go after the kids you see with the ball."
Bjørn: "But coach, you want me to go after the tiny kids?"
Coach: "Yes, Bjørn. You have to get the tiny kids."
Bjørn: "But coach, I might hurt them. What if I fall on them? They could get crushed."
Coach: "That's what I want, Bjørn. Crush them. Crush the tiny kids."
From that moment on, Bjørn's sole goal in life was the crush the tiny kids who carried the ball. His first year as a defensive tackle, Bjørn carried his pee wee team to a perfect season. They did not have a touchdown scored on them the entire year due to Bjørn's absolute dominance at the line. Even when two kids got in his way, Bjørn would put both of them on the ground before gettin to the quarterback or the half back. The same words repeated in his head over and over again. Crush the tiny kids, crush the tiny kids. It was absolutely perfect until the championship. The game was close, 3 to 0. Disaster struck on the opposition's final drive. After a particularly brutal tackle, Bjørn lost one of his shoes. When trying to get up, another one of the larger kids, the center, stomped on Bjørn's foot. His cleats dug deep, cutting gashes along the way and shattering several bones. It wasn't a pretty display.
The coach ran out onto the field with the medical staff. "You've done enough for us, Bjørn. We will do our best to finish it out for you."
Bjørn looked up at the coach, not a tear in his eyes and snarled angrily. "I've got this, coach. I'll get the tiny kid." The resolve in the kid's eyes told the coach everything. This kid lived and breathed football and he would not rest if he had to sit out. They wrapped his foot, he put his shoe back on, and after one play of being out he was back out there. He fired off the line, ramming his shoulder pad into the center's chest. He planted the kid on the ground before rushing to the quarterback. Fearful of the fury in his eyes the poor kid simply tossed Bjørn the ball. He scored his first touchdown as a player and added the first trophy to his case. It would be the first of many.
To be continued...
Born to Sven Ironside, a hulking retired rugby player who stood to be 6'10, 330 pounds and his lovely wife, Ana Ironside who was 7'1, 280 pounds, only great things were expected of Bjørn. He was born June 25, 2010 weighing a massive 24 pounds. Any hope of having a fairly normal child was quickly squashed when Bjørn's tiny little fists broke the attending physician's nose while he was kicking and screaming. They wanted to ignore it, but the Ironsides knew that their child was destined for greatness.
Shortly before his birth, Bjørn's parents had moved to Detroit, Michigan. His mother got a job there as a proprietor and a museum. Sven had lived the life of a professional athlete. He'd been through the injuries and the concussions and he knew what would become of his son were they to put him down that path. He and Ana decided early on that they would raise the child in Ana's world. Around art and history and music. They'd teach him about the world and hopefully he'd become something gentle. Like a monk or something. This version of history was not to be.
Bjørn grew at a rapid rate. His parents were constantly having to buy new clothes to keep up with his size. By the time he turned three, the child weighed a full 60 pounds and stood 4 foot tall. It wasn't enough that he was almost the size of two other kids his size, he was also rowdy and had boundless energy to spare. It was tough for even Sven to keep up with. Still, they did their best to stay the course. That was until one night in October, 2014. Ana was at the museum on business and Sven was left to handle young Bjørn. Bjørn had been particularly quiet that night, so Sven was counting his blessings. He got the boy to bed and then went to unwind himself. About 30 minutes passed and Sven noticed it being unusually quiet. Bjørn was a lot of things, but he was not great at going to bed when he was supposed to and was never quiet for more than 10 minutes at a time. Something was wrong.
Sven rushed to the child's room, but there was absolutely no trace of him. The window was open and Sven knew Bjørn had escaped. The search began. For many, it was out of concern for the child's safety. For Sven and Ana, it was because they feared the kind of havoc their child could wreck if left to his own devices. It took two long days, but they finally found him.
The sight that the rescuers happened upon was grizzly. Bjørn was surrounded by three grizzly bear cubs who he had clearly been wrestling. They were circling the child, calculating their chance. The first one charged and Bjørn didn't budge. He held his ground and caught the cub by the snout, using his momentum and flipping him overhead. A second one charged and with one hand, Bjørn managed to catch it by the throat and choke slam it into the ground. The third decided better of its life choices and wandered of to the brush where shortly after the massive mamma bear emerged. She roared at the rescuers and charged them, sending them scattering.
Not much is known about the nature of the events that followed. Sven hired a group of hunters and they went out searching for the monster that kidnapped his child. There was no trace. Then about a week later as if by magic, Bjørn showed up again completely unscathed. Somehow the child had survived a week alone in the wilderness among grizzlies and seemed no worse for wear. It was then that Sven knew fate had spoken and any chance of his son living a normal life was a dream of the past. The child needed something to take his energy out on and so the legend of Bjørn Ironside began.
Most pee wee football leagues need children to be at least 8 years of age. The minimum requirements in weight was 60 pounds. Bjørn had the size to begin the sport, but not the age. Sven was desperate to keep the boy out of trouble, so with some clever workups he managed to convince a local pee wee coach that Bjørn was a little slow for his age, but he was definitely 8 years of age and was safe to play.
Bjørn became an immediate legend. He was on the small side due to being 4 years too young, so his coach initially started him at defensive end. He had surprising strength for a kid of his size, constant running over the kids across from him. He didn't quite understand the basics of going after the ball carrier at first and instead focused on absolutely humiliating the kid across the line from him. It worked. By the time he was 8, Bjørn had put on another 40 pounds. His parents moved him do a different team in Detroit so he could officially join a pee wee team. He was now one of the biggest kids in his pee wee league, so his coach shifted him to defensive tackle. That is when things finally clicked for Bjørn. That was when Bjørn fell in love.
His coach immediately picked up on his potential and worked Bjørn hard. He drilled into Bjørn's head that his one and only goal was to go after the guy with the ball. That was when Bjørn got his motto.
Coach: "Alright, Bjørn. You obviously have no problems getting by those kids up front. That's great, but I need you to go after the kids you see with the ball."
Bjørn: "But coach, you want me to go after the tiny kids?"
Coach: "Yes, Bjørn. You have to get the tiny kids."
Bjørn: "But coach, I might hurt them. What if I fall on them? They could get crushed."
Coach: "That's what I want, Bjørn. Crush them. Crush the tiny kids."
From that moment on, Bjørn's sole goal in life was the crush the tiny kids who carried the ball. His first year as a defensive tackle, Bjørn carried his pee wee team to a perfect season. They did not have a touchdown scored on them the entire year due to Bjørn's absolute dominance at the line. Even when two kids got in his way, Bjørn would put both of them on the ground before gettin to the quarterback or the half back. The same words repeated in his head over and over again. Crush the tiny kids, crush the tiny kids. It was absolutely perfect until the championship. The game was close, 3 to 0. Disaster struck on the opposition's final drive. After a particularly brutal tackle, Bjørn lost one of his shoes. When trying to get up, another one of the larger kids, the center, stomped on Bjørn's foot. His cleats dug deep, cutting gashes along the way and shattering several bones. It wasn't a pretty display.
The coach ran out onto the field with the medical staff. "You've done enough for us, Bjørn. We will do our best to finish it out for you."
Bjørn looked up at the coach, not a tear in his eyes and snarled angrily. "I've got this, coach. I'll get the tiny kid." The resolve in the kid's eyes told the coach everything. This kid lived and breathed football and he would not rest if he had to sit out. They wrapped his foot, he put his shoe back on, and after one play of being out he was back out there. He fired off the line, ramming his shoulder pad into the center's chest. He planted the kid on the ground before rushing to the quarterback. Fearful of the fury in his eyes the poor kid simply tossed Bjørn the ball. He scored his first touchdown as a player and added the first trophy to his case. It would be the first of many.
To be continued...
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