Those involved prepare as best they can. Rasmussen, the referee, heads out of town to feed his pack of sled dogs. N-48’s players eat a dinner of seal on Friday — it is “good for energy,” according to Frederiksen, the organizer — and then take a gentle stroll to the foot of Nasaasaaq, the mountain that looms over Sisimiut, on Saturday morning. The team has not been Greenland champion since 2007. This is its chance.

Frederiksen and his team of volunteers have gone all out for the occasion: Ennio Morricone’s theme from “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly” blares from the public-address system, as do songs from the Greenlandic band Chilly Friday. Most of the other teams in the competition have come to watch, taking up positions on the cliff in club-branded gear.

The game, one that might have been a forfeit, proves one-sided: N-48 runs rampant, winning, 4-0, and denying the vaunted B-67 a place in the final.

Slowly, the crowd begins to disperse, clambering down the cliff, drifting back to town, to normal life. N-48’s players cram into cars and head to the beach, to dip their legs in the cold water, to try to recover. For them, and for all the teams, there was one more night to spend on mattresses in makeshift lodgings. One more game to play.

N-48 beats G-44 in the final. IT-79 rallies to claim third, holding off Greenland’s Real Madrid. Brummerstedt’s G.S.S. does finish last. Everyone will soon be on their way home, at sea again, ready for their lives to start again.

It had been only seven days since the tournament began, but it feels far longer. A season that lasts just a week is still a season; it still contains months.

Before the final day, on Saturday night, Frederiksen and one of his volunteers went out to sea. The fog was descending again, but they wanted to hunt seal.