At the school where I was going there was also a Sport’s school, with different departments.
How Maramures Explorer got in league A with the volleyball section the team wished a valuable farm of players from whom they can regenerate their batch. In this way a department for volleyball, at that school, with huge perspective, was built taking in account the fact that by that time the high school was five years old.
A teacher with a volleyball teaching line was allocated there, a very capable artisan. His only annoyance was that the height he had was not quite …height…He was a short man, whom him self considered as a handicap for a volleyball man, with a permanent feeling of inferiority. From this reason he wished to show that for once in his life he could be the best, the biggest, if by his stature he couldn’t make this step, at least through the results of his work to grow up.
I have to admit that the guy knew his job well. His pupils were in the third year of high school and they were already professional’s volleyball players. At the recruitment selection when they built the team, the shortest volleyball player was 1, 95 meters height and the matter was growing to better things.
This man we are talking about now it seemed to have a mustache and his name was the same as of a Parisian tap house. Not Moulin Rouge, but as famous as it. I miss it right now, I might remember meanwhile.
The guy was the best from the team. The fact that he could take his coach at his “armhole” allowed him to be rude with him and his arbiters. Exceptions that have taken him at collecting a few red cards while on the field.
That particular teacher, the coach, as my mate, he confess to me. He might not do this with the thought of receiving any suggestions from me, but only for the fact of telling his own sorrow to someone. Obviously I listened to what he had to say, but his sorrow was continuously. I suggested a solution. He could get him out from the batch for one or two games.