Born in Nöebölle, Denmark, on March 28, 1922, Helge Bronée joined Juventus in 1954 from Roma at the age of thirty-two. A unique center-forward, almost of Danubian style, he prioritized technique over strength. His feet were those of a fine playmaker, and his goals were rarely about raw power. Bronée sought the beauty of athletic movement, coordinated actions, always with refined touch. He was a player of supreme class, a precursor to collective play, tactically unconventional, but a great natural talent.
In Turin, he was exclusively used as a left inside forward. It was often said he only used his right foot for walking. The Bronée-Praest pairing on the left flank, despite both players feeling the weight of years, often thrilled the Comunale crowd. They were complementary players, two magical protagonists interpreting football in a unique way.
He debuted in black and white on September 26, 1954, in the second league match against Lazio in Turin. He bewildered Fuin and Giovannini, Lazio`s defenders, and scored two of Juventus`s four goals in their victory. He repeated this performance the following Sunday in Novara. By the end of that season, he had scored eleven goals for Juventus, top scorer alongside Manente, a full-back with a powerful shot who also benefited from penalties. He bid farewell to the fans on June 4, 1955, in a 5-1 victory against Bologna, scoring a brace, just like in his debut.
Bronée remained with Juventus for only one season. His undisciplined nature was a constant in his life, both on and off the field. He made twenty-nine appearances and scored eleven goals. The following season, he concluded his Italian stint with Novara. Interestingly, his contract was based on appearances: a fee per game and a substantial bonus for each goal scored.
“He arrived at Juve already squeezed,” Camin wrote, “everything passes. At Nancy in France, he was a wild spirit and continued to be so even at Palermo. Blond and mischievous, his blue eyes, which kept looking at Prince Raimondo Lanza di Trabia, appealed to many. He was a formidable player. He anticipated collective football, this anarchist, playing as a mezzala and midfielder, intercepting and creating, defending and attacking, with a white bandage on his left wrist, once broken, he won and lost, sometimes eager to fight, sometimes not at all, not even he knew why, his mind elsewhere. He enjoyed himself more off the field, but not always. His drama was free time.”