NP3 Arena

Norrsidan is not a stadium for romantics. It is a functional place where the architecture of a gymnasium meets the gravel of a railway station. The ground sits at the end of the line, a concrete block wrapped around a pitch that belongs to GIF Sundsvall.

What distinguishes the place is the large, cylindrical structure on the roof, shaped like a football and used for ventilation. It is a blunt object, painted white and black, that silhouettes the grey sky. You see it before you reach the turnstiles. The stands are low, rising only a few tiers above the terracing. Norrsidan has no grand entrance hall; the access is through a gate next to a fence, leading past a green tarpaulin screen that hides the construction work. The seats are green, and they are arranged in a tight rectangle. The roof covers only half of them, leaving the other half exposed to the wind that comes off the river.

The surface is artificial turf, laid down to survive the long winters. It is synthetic, uniform, and bright green against the muted tones of the surrounding buildings. In the background, the spire of a church rises above the white walls of the old stadium, a reminder of the city’s history, but it is the modern structure that defines the view. The air is cold, and the sound of the ball hitting the pitch is sharper than on natural grass.

There is no sense of permanence here. The stadium has changed names several times, from Norrporten Arena to its current title, but the physical remains are the same: concrete, steel, and a lot of plastic seats. The crowd is small, and they sit close to the action. There is no separation between the fans and the players, only a thin barrier of fencing. The ground is a container for the game, nothing more, nothing less. It is a place where the game is played, not watched as a spectacle.