There are football matchups where you almost feel like you’re watching a Netflix reboot—fresh cast, old rivalry, a sense of the familiar mixed with just enough chaos to make you want to binge it all in one sitting. That’s Brønshøj vs Odense in the DBU Pokalen quarterfinals. On paper, it’s class warfare: Brønshøj, the gritty 3rd division squad with a chip on their shoulder and more heart than budget, hosting Odense, the Superliga big brother who probably thinks they’re just here to pick up a win, eat some smørrebrød, and get out of Tingbjerg without scuffing their Adidas. But, as any true Cup watcher knows, the Pokalen doesn’t do scripts. It only does drama.

Let’s be honest—Brønshøj has been playing like a team possessed. They’re the football equivalent of that plucky underdog in a heist movie, who you know is outgunned but just keeps coming at you with clever set-pieces and relentless pressing. Unbeaten in five, averaging 2.6 goals a game over their last ten, and looking like they’d try to score if NASA let them play on Mars. Their 3-1 win over VSK Århus in the last round felt less Cinderella and more Ocean’s Eleven. Every time you think they’re out, some unknown striker pops up with a goal in the 80-something minute, and you’re left shouting at the screen, “How are they still in this?!”

Contrast that with Odense—oh, Odense. The aristocrats of this story, waltzing in with Superliga pedigree but lately performing with the inconsistency of a prestige TV show that lost its showrunner. This is a team that can win 3-0 at Sundby with the clinical finishing of Jona Niemiec, only to get absolutely pantsed 1-5 by Brøndby a week later. Their backline has more holes than the plot of some mid-2000s action movies, and if you’ve watched them try to defend a counterattack, you know you’re either in for a goal or a meme-able defensive blunder.

But don’t get it twisted—Odense still carries the kind of firepower you don’t want visiting your home ground on a cold Danish night. Fiete Arp, Adam Sørensen, and that constant wildcard, Noah Ganaus, have the ability to turn a game in the space of five minutes. Ganaus, in particular, is playing like he watched tapes of old Michael Laudrup and decided to do a “greatest hits” cover band. He’s scored in three of their last five, and if Brønshøj leaves him a yard of space, he’ll punish them faster than you can say “Pokalen upset.”

Tactically, this is going to be a fascinating chess match—think Queen’s Gambit, if Anya Taylor-Joy wore shin pads. Brønshøj, at home, are likely to press high and fast, play with pace out wide, and try to turn this into a back-and-forth shootout. Their midfielders have a habit of surging late into the box—think Frank Lampard with more Danish vowels—and if Odense’s defense loses track of their runners, well, we’re getting goals. Odense, meanwhile, will bank on their technical advantage in the middle, slow the tempo, and trust their front three to find gaps. If the Superliga side controls possession, they should be able to suffocate Brønshøj’s energy. But if the tempo gets away from them? This has the makings of a Cup classic.

There’s also that intangible “what’s at stake” factor—Brønshøj’s season is already a feel-good indie film, but a Cup upset here puts them in real “write the movie script now” territory, the kind that gets old legends to dust off their scarves and show up at the park. For Odense, this isn’t about romance. This is about pride. They’re supposed to win, supposed to dominate, supposed to remind everyone why there are tiers in Danish football in the first place. Lose this, and it’s headlines, pressure, and the kind of existential reviews normally reserved for Lars von Trier flicks.

So where does that leave us? In 90 minutes at Tingbjerg Idraetspark, we get a little bit of everything: the romance of the cup, the sharpness of underdog ambition, and the cold professionalism of a club with more to lose than gain. Is this David and Goliath? Maybe. But in the Pokalen, Goliath sometimes forgets his helmet, and David turns out to have a rocket for a right foot.

Prediction? You want a prediction? I’ll say this: Brønshøj will score, Odense will wobble, and by the 70th minute, half of Copenhagen will have called their friends to turn on the stream. But when the dust settles, Odense’s class just might—might—see them through. Unless, of course, Brønshøj’s scriptwriters are working overtime. And if so? Get ready for a sequel.

This is why you tune in. This is why you never miss the Cup. And this is absolutely why you don’t bet your lunch money on Danish favorites.