Jan Havel

“Of course we got injured; I can’t say we did not. If I count correctly, I have 145 stitches in my face. Those were the stronger hits, of course. Once, I had the skin and flesh below my eye all torn off. I had 27 stitches inside and 14 stitches from the outside, it was like a flapper. But hockey is a hard sport and you need to carry on. There were a lot of injuries but it is interesting that throughout the whole period only Honza Eysselt from Sparta really suffered the consequences when a puck smashed his eye. From that moment on, we started to use the shields as well. Thus a few individuals suffered the consequences. I don’t know how many exactly but I remember this one clearly because it happened in Sparta, I took part in the match and it happened only one meter away from me. And so this one lost his eye, but he kept playing without the eye for two more seasons and we really respected that he dared to step on the ice with one eye only. All in all, I think that - except for those eyes - there were not that many injuries of such gravity, making somebody seriously and permanently disabled. Those knees and stuff, this is what happens at our age. I’ll also have to have my knees replaced to be able to walk. I’ve been postponing it for three years now. But the doctors say: ‘If you can walk, then walk for as long as you can before it starts to hurt.’ In the end, I think that one realizes the consequences of doing this much sport only when they’re over fifty, sixty, or even older.”

“When I was five years old my dad went ice-skating with me for the first time and I really liked it. He put on me those oldschool boots; we called them ‘šlajfky’. There was a knot; you needed to have ankle-high shoes with solid heels and firm sole to which the blade was screwed. And he brought me dressed in sweatpants and a jacket on the ice for the first time. He took my hand to help me with the first steps. He gave me a ride around the pond and then said: ‘You need to let go of my hand. Don’t worry, start like this…’ I was staring at him, then ran a few steps and then sledged a little and I really loved it. But he said: ’Not like that. You need to push from the left foot to the right. Let me show you…’ He pulled away on the pond and eventually, he ended up at the floodgates; there were little pebbles or some slag on the surface and he somehow got stuck. Thus my first impression was seeing my dad landing on his stomach. He never showed me again. But it is true that ever since, when I came back from school I threw my bag away and went to the pond.”