Summer 2023. Mid afternoon in New Town, Prague.
A good friend wanders in Wenceslas Square. Considers the impressive medieval architecture, explores the charming alleys. Notes the cafes and bars in abundance along the side streets.
An hour later, alongside his wife, he enters various stores in the nearby Havel Market. Map in hand, he searches for the quickest route back to their hotel.
The shop assistant approaches, keen to assist. Alas, all she produces is a stream of Czech phrases and words, with no apparent English equivalent.
My friend, despite being an outstanding linguist and fully fluent in at least five languages, is nonplussed. Everything, in Czech at least, from sentence structure, to word order, to literal word for word translation, seems nothing but an indecipherable jumble.
Nonetheless, he perseveres. And, when a series of shoulder shrugs, hand signals and finger pointing produce only bewildered looks, he takes a chance. Makes a stab at the local language.
Offers, for whatever reason, something apparently sounding the likes of “chci si koupit dino saura.”
The shop assistant brightens immediately. Beams enthusiastically, hurries back behind the counter. Returns quickly. In her hand, she clutches a medium sized, stuffed dinosaur.
My friend decides to cut his losses. With a rueful smile, he pays for the toy. Little does he know his attempt to speak Czech has been interpreted as “I want to buy a dinosaur.”
Spare a thought for my friend, as the Czech language can be both a misery and a mystery to learn. Complex grammar, irregular plurals, multiple verb endings, consonant clusters, 42 letters in the alphabet, all contribute to the chaos.
Happily, in the world of sport, indeed in all walks of life, there is at least one Czech phrase that rings true and remains directly applicable to all other languages.
As reflected by the shining example of one of the country’s athletic superstars.
He is Emil Zatopek. The “Czech Locomotive”. Without question one of the greatest distance runners of all time.
He makes his mark on the track soon after the conclusion of World War II. As a member of the Czechoslovak Army, his savagely tough sessions and grueling interval training, usually done alone in a forest close to the base, become the stuff of legend. He crosses the border of pain and suffering in order to separate himself from the pack.
His distinctive running style is not for the purists. Facial expressions contorted with effort, wheezing audibly, head and torso swinging from side to side. Regardless, he runs in all weathers, including snow and freezing rain, often while wearing heavy boots or weighted shoes. Never forgetting that to fake it, to skip the daily grind, to seek shortcuts to success, is anathema.
Indeed, for an athlete at the top level, whatever the sport, consistency is king. The consistency to show up every day, when the weather is miserable and cold, when your body aches, when one would rather do anything other than train or practice.
Eventually, whether in a race or a game, corner cutters get exposed. The guilty will end up with nowhere to hide, when the lactic acid kicks in, when “running out of gas” as the pressure mounts.
On the other hand, for individuals and teams prepared to embrace totally the grind and sometimes severe discomfort, the rewards are immense. The resulting satisfaction and euphoria even harder to describe.
Zatopek certainly never cheats himself. His crowning glory, among many others, comes in the form of three gold medals in the 1952 Helsinki Olympics. He remains the only athlete to ever win three distance events in the same Games.
He opens with a dominant performance in the 10,000m race, blowing away the field by a whopping sixteen seconds. Four days later, at 5,000m, a blistering 57.5 second final lap sees him move from fourth place to first.
Then, somewhat unexpectedly, Zatopek decides to contest the marathon. It will be his first ever attempt over the exacting 42.2 km distance. Still, his strategy is straightforward, as he plans to run along side Britain’s Jim Peters, the pre race favourite and world record holder. The mind games begin soon enough, with Zatopek subtly forcing a fearsome pace. Then, at the 15km mark, he asks his opponent what he thinks of the race up to that point.
In an attempt to trip up his foe, Peters suggests the pace has in fact been too slow. In a forceful response, Zatopek simply further accelerates, goes even faster while pulling away. Remarkably, he wins the race by over two minutes, as a suitably chastened and shattered Peters fails to finish.
Certainly, if the years that immediately follow are marred to a degree by injury, nothing can ever take away from Zatopek’s courage, determination, self-discipline, and scintillating performance in Helsinki. After driving himself ruthlessly and relentlessly in preparation, he brilliantly navigates three highly demanding races, all within a week’s time frame.
Of course, while it won’t help with hotel directions or in buying a stuffed animal, in this instance a different Czech phrase does accurately sum up the nuts and bolts of elite competitive situations across all sports. Both for national hero Zatopek, and also for other legends from all around the globe who achieve great success, even immortality. Who earn and deserve the right to savour their just desserts.
“Zadna prace; Zadne kolace,” it reads.
With the English translation below brutally forthright and honest.
“No Work; No Cakes.”
Comments