Hallo liebe leute!!
Student life needs other parallel activities, as you know we need to have a break from the academic routine. Hanging out at night, clubbing, dinners, ok…what about sport? TU Dresden has millions of sport opportunities, among them I would like to mention the coolest: badminton, disco fox, Irish dance, ultimate Frisbee and skipping rope. I haven’t chosen any of them! My rowing addiction has won again. So I check the courses schedule, all of them overlap with our lectures! Dammed! I don’t give up. So I send an email to one of the staff members, asking whether I can have ‘a shortcut’ and going to the club whenever I want..at the end I am a rowing coach! I am told to contact Lukas, an athlete of the Dresden Rowing Club (Ruderverein). He says to come over at the club a Thursday night, they are going to meet for a preseason meeting. So I do it. I am perfectly on time, I am invited to go upstairs of the fancy club building. I find an amazing room well furnished full of trophies, around a big table some guys are chatting. I thought it would have been a bit more informal, but after a while other athletes are joining followed by a gigantic German man. The Coach. This human being, to whom Mother Nature has forgotten to provide a neck, is either tall and large, with a strong voice that fits perfectly his appearance. He gives a brief introduction, in German, and afterwards the guys around the table are speaking one by one, always in German. At a certain point, The Coach, staring to me, asks a quick and sure question:
C: “und du?”.
F: “und du what?”. Silence.
F: “Ehm… I guess I have to introduce myself!”
So I do it! In English of course, the embarrass is kind of taking advantage over me, but I am able to turn again in my favor stating “I’ve been doing rowing for 15 years, so I’m good!”. Huge laugh from everyone, and The Coach approves. JESUS WHAT AN ANXIETY!
Following the introductions, the meeting continues with a lot of German discussions about the season targets. As far I can understand, a guy, who has arrived late, is always arguing with the staff proposals. Right guess, because after yet another complain, The Coach stops him, standing up from the chair and slapping the big hands on the table with a growing voice until a threatening German level. And there he is: tall and powerful above the freezing hush that has fallen around the table, just like after a bomb at the Dresden’s Christmas Market. Into this climate of fear, the boy, with an enviable calm, says something just like “ok, let’s do whatever you want”. The Coach leaves the room. The brave guys starts crying betraying his emotions. In the meantime, I have started climbing.