Olympian from Slovakia

I arrived in Stary Smokovec by bus from Zakopane. There was a long climb of many steps leading from the bus stop to the city. I bent under my heavy load and walked up slowly.

- Mister Pollack, I have an accommodation for you - some voice croaked into my ear and I felt a smell of alcohol.

I looked up. A middle aged woman stood in front of me. She repeated her offer. I had known this place from my ski trips in old times and expected to find accommodation in the central office located in the main street.

- Thank you but I already have booked accommodation - I lied.

- And where is your accommodation Mister Pollack? - the woman did not give up and blocked my way.

- I got it arranged by accommodation office - I answered and tried to force my way up.

- Mr Pollack, there is no longer any accommodation office! - cried triumphantly the woman. - I have an accommodation for you!

- Stefan! Stefan! - she shouted. Two big men arrived at the top of the stairs.

- Stefan, I have a Pollack for you!

I bent my head in resignation. The only escape was to run back to the bus stop. I decided that having my throat cut will be less shameful. I went up.

- Welcome Mister Pollack - greeted me Stefan. I have to explain that he spoke Slovakian, I spoke Polish and we understood each other perfectly.

Next to Stefan, a waiter stood with a tray with glasses of Becherovka. We drank. Stefan grabbed my ski bag.

- Why these skis are so light? - he asked.

- These are cross country skis - I replied.

- Cross country skis? - you are the first Pole who came here with cross country skis.

I got large and comfortable room. In the evening there was a knocking to my door. Stefan came carrying some bag.

- Lech, do you know such name - Sixten Jernberg? - he asked.

- Sixten Jernberg! Of course! King of skis! Gold medals in Innsbruck, Squaw Valley, Grenoble!

- Now I believe you are a cross country skier - Stefan opened his bag and put on the table few bottles of Smadny Mnich.

- And do you know Lech, that I competed againts Sixten Jernberg in Innsbruck in 1964?

We both took a long sip of beer, sat comfortably and Stefan started his story...

Lech, you know how it was in communist system. They put all this rubbish into our heads. So when I was selected to the Olympic ski team, we had these long instructions from some political officers - how bad capitalist system is, how many dangers are there. That we will be approached by some spies and provocateurs, so better not to speak to anyone. That we may be even kidnapped!

We came to Innsbruck. I was in fantastic shape. And I drew excellent start number, start just three minutes before Sixten Jernberg.

- Listen Stefan - said my coach - go fast and strong. And watch Jernberg. If he will not catch you then you will get a place in the first six and maybe even a medal.

The race started. I felt so good. And my skis were waxed so well. I remembered what my coach said and went fast and strong.

Distance 50 km. I passed 20km, 30km, 40km and there was no sign of Jernberg.

And then I heard a helicopter noise behind my back.

What was it? I remembered this stupid story that we might be kidnapped and froze.

And at that very moment Sixten Jernberg passed me. The helicopter was a TV crew covering his race. I was so confused and frustrated that I stiffened, lost my rhythm. I finished 22nd.

And I could have finished in first six... or maybe even I could have won a medal.

- Medal, medal for sure - I confirmed eagerly.

We both took long sips of beer.