An enduring spirit
He is the newly-crowned world champion. He is an Olympic medalist. He is the nation's sweetheart. Every time he sweeps down the hill, the masses hold their breath, only to jump for joy when he breaks another record or shake their heads in dismay if he fails to win, seconds afterwards.
In two and a half years, Adam Małysz has become more than just a successful athlete. In a land where great winter sports heroes live only in history and tradition, Małysz answered the cry for success which had not been heard since Wojciech Fortuna won his Olympic gold back in 1972.
But Małysz is not the one-jump-wonder that his predecessor was. He is enduring. He has remained at the top for a couple of years now. But how is he managing it? It seems an impossible feat in a land with only four ski-jumping hills that meet the standards for international competitions. Compared with his counterparts in Austria, Germany or Finland, where in the mountains ski-jumping hills seem to be hidden around every corner, Małysz's success seems even more unlikely.
Sure, Małysz has got talent, but natural-born skills can only explain a part of his magic. We have seen so many great prospects gone and forgotten. To be honest, at first he followed that path. Małysz won some World Cup competitions in 1997, then disappeared as fast as he had emerged. At one point he seemed to have lost everything. The resignation and frustration grew so deep in his soul that he quit ski jumping for a while.
"I don't know," is probably the most common answer from a ski jumper, whatever the question, whether he has just won the Olympic gold or failed to qualify for the final round. Małysz also did not know the reason for his misfortune. "Ski jumping was just a dream in those days," Małysz recalls. "I wanted to win again, but didn't believe I was able to do it." But Małysz had a great deal of luck - he was given a chance to prove that he was able to do it.
The appointment of Apoloniusz Tajner as the country's national ski-jumping coach scarcely aroused any media attention. At the time, it held as much importance to the people as last year's snowfall. But Tajner saw the genius in Małysz and persuaded him to pursue his career. Tajner had a vision that Małysz could be the best in the world, and was able to make him believe it. Over the following years a master-apprentice and partly father-son relationship developed between the two men. Tajner and Małysz formed an alliance as strong as Muhammad Ali and Angelo Dundee, and were as inseparable as Bonnie and Clyde. Małysz worked hard and jumped and jumped and jumped to perfect his technique.
Knowing that success in sport and especially in ski jumping requires more than just practice and talent, Tajner formed a team around his jewel, consisting of a psychologist and a sports physiologist. The first worked on Małysz's psyche, the second on his body. Dr. Jan Blecharz, the psychologist, found a simple, yet very effective formula for Małysz which freed him from pressure. Following the doctor's advice, Małysz started to concentrate on "delivering two good jumps" instead of beating his opponents. It worked. Step by step, from one tournament to the next, the shy mountaineer from Wisła was getting better and better. Two years ago his talent exploded.
The team's hard work could easily have remained unrewarded, had it not been for a former ski jumper from Austria, Edi Federer. As Małysz's agent, he is often accused of preying on his success. A lot of myths surround Federer - some of them absurd, such as the claim that he profits most from our national hero, leaving only crumbs for Małysz himself. I am not defending him, but his critics should bear in mind that his deals with Małysz are their own business; and moreover, Federer is a businessman, with profit being his driving force.
Yet, one should not forget that his interest in Małysz and their co-operation started before anybody thought of such a social phenomenon as "Małysz-mania." One shouldn't forget, either, that Federer invested in Małysz's talent and later found the funds to support it. Without Federer's managerial skills, Tajner and Małysz would not be able to cover the costs of expensive training camps in Norway and Austria or to test the newest skis and equipment. One could argue that this should be the job of the Polish Ski Federation. But it is enough to say that the federation still has not paid Małysz and his coach promised bonuses for winning two Olympic medals. Małysz would survive without the federation, but it is highly doubtful whether it would survive without him.
This state of affairs in particular saddens me. Małysz, apart from his great talent, had enough luck to meet the right people at the right time. His success came when he was already married and had a child, so he avoided one trouble that besets many ski jumpers - a sudden change in their personal lives. But what if there was no Apoloniusz Tajner with his vision? And no Edi Federer with his fund-raising skills? Małysz's name would remain unknown, except to a few statisticians.
Going further, one can hardly resist the thought that when Małysz finally retires there will not be any new hero because now, when it is time to promote youth and breed a new champion, only a few notice the problem. And you cannot expect Małysz to come back twice, as his fellow flying icon Michael Jordan did.
In two and a half years, Adam Małysz has become more than just a successful athlete. In a land where great winter sports heroes live only in history and tradition, Małysz answered the cry for success which had not been heard since Wojciech Fortuna won his Olympic gold back in 1972.
But Małysz is not the one-jump-wonder that his predecessor was. He is enduring. He has remained at the top for a couple of years now. But how is he managing it? It seems an impossible feat in a land with only four ski-jumping hills that meet the standards for international competitions. Compared with his counterparts in Austria, Germany or Finland, where in the mountains ski-jumping hills seem to be hidden around every corner, Małysz's success seems even more unlikely.
Sure, Małysz has got talent, but natural-born skills can only explain a part of his magic. We have seen so many great prospects gone and forgotten. To be honest, at first he followed that path. Małysz won some World Cup competitions in 1997, then disappeared as fast as he had emerged. At one point he seemed to have lost everything. The resignation and frustration grew so deep in his soul that he quit ski jumping for a while.
"I don't know," is probably the most common answer from a ski jumper, whatever the question, whether he has just won the Olympic gold or failed to qualify for the final round. Małysz also did not know the reason for his misfortune. "Ski jumping was just a dream in those days," Małysz recalls. "I wanted to win again, but didn't believe I was able to do it." But Małysz had a great deal of luck - he was given a chance to prove that he was able to do it.
The appointment of Apoloniusz Tajner as the country's national ski-jumping coach scarcely aroused any media attention. At the time, it held as much importance to the people as last year's snowfall. But Tajner saw the genius in Małysz and persuaded him to pursue his career. Tajner had a vision that Małysz could be the best in the world, and was able to make him believe it. Over the following years a master-apprentice and partly father-son relationship developed between the two men. Tajner and Małysz formed an alliance as strong as Muhammad Ali and Angelo Dundee, and were as inseparable as Bonnie and Clyde. Małysz worked hard and jumped and jumped and jumped to perfect his technique.
Knowing that success in sport and especially in ski jumping requires more than just practice and talent, Tajner formed a team around his jewel, consisting of a psychologist and a sports physiologist. The first worked on Małysz's psyche, the second on his body. Dr. Jan Blecharz, the psychologist, found a simple, yet very effective formula for Małysz which freed him from pressure. Following the doctor's advice, Małysz started to concentrate on "delivering two good jumps" instead of beating his opponents. It worked. Step by step, from one tournament to the next, the shy mountaineer from Wisła was getting better and better. Two years ago his talent exploded.
The team's hard work could easily have remained unrewarded, had it not been for a former ski jumper from Austria, Edi Federer. As Małysz's agent, he is often accused of preying on his success. A lot of myths surround Federer - some of them absurd, such as the claim that he profits most from our national hero, leaving only crumbs for Małysz himself. I am not defending him, but his critics should bear in mind that his deals with Małysz are their own business; and moreover, Federer is a businessman, with profit being his driving force.
Yet, one should not forget that his interest in Małysz and their co-operation started before anybody thought of such a social phenomenon as "Małysz-mania." One shouldn't forget, either, that Federer invested in Małysz's talent and later found the funds to support it. Without Federer's managerial skills, Tajner and Małysz would not be able to cover the costs of expensive training camps in Norway and Austria or to test the newest skis and equipment. One could argue that this should be the job of the Polish Ski Federation. But it is enough to say that the federation still has not paid Małysz and his coach promised bonuses for winning two Olympic medals. Małysz would survive without the federation, but it is highly doubtful whether it would survive without him.
This state of affairs in particular saddens me. Małysz, apart from his great talent, had enough luck to meet the right people at the right time. His success came when he was already married and had a child, so he avoided one trouble that besets many ski jumpers - a sudden change in their personal lives. But what if there was no Apoloniusz Tajner with his vision? And no Edi Federer with his fund-raising skills? Małysz's name would remain unknown, except to a few statisticians.
Going further, one can hardly resist the thought that when Małysz finally retires there will not be any new hero because now, when it is time to promote youth and breed a new champion, only a few notice the problem. And you cannot expect Małysz to come back twice, as his fellow flying icon Michael Jordan did.
