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Káďa: Half a Life in Spartan Shirt I.
Author: Isaque Argolo | Creation Date: 2022-08-19 13:18:35
Data providers: Isaque Argolo.
HALF A LIFE IN SPARTAN SHIRT I.
Káda's name will forever be written on the brightest page of our football history. There is perhaps no connoisseur of sports on the entire football continent who, when uttering the name Káďa, does not add with a smile: "Káďa-Sparta-Czechoslovakia!" Káďa's name has always been closely associated with the good name of our sport. Káďa has always been referred to as an exemplary representative of Sparta's excellent reputation and a representative of the ideal type of Czechoslovak football international.
Káďa played about seven hundred matches in the red shirt and appeared on the pitch forty-nine times as our most reliable international.
Spectators of Letná, Hohe Warte, stadium in Colombes, Barcelona, Lisbon, Antwerp, Amsterdam, Berlin, Dresden, Hamburg, Munich, Bern, Zurich, Rome, Turin, Milan, etc. applauded many times the unique performances of the famous golden-haired Czechoslovakian.
Also, North American grounds in New York, Chicago, Boston, Detroit, etc. witnessed the beautiful game of the most popular Spartan.
Káďa has been playing football since he was thirteen years old, when he first ran onto the field in a jersey and soccer cleats as a reservist of Vinohrady Meteor. So he has been playing for a total of 23 years. So, he spent half his life on the football field and after almost half his life, he grew up with the red shirt.
During 23 years of football activity accompanied by enormous popularity, he gained rare experience, deepened his life horizon and experienced many bad and happy moments.
A pool of life lived in various periods of the sports cycle — a beautifully wrapped colorful bouquet, full of interesting events and rare professional knowledge!
The editors present this bouquet on the table to our readers today! It is at the same time a huge laurel wreath, which the Káďa international won for many years of activity in our football, but which is actually dedicated in memoriam to the unforgettable, famous old Spartan guard. They are reminiscences processed according to one's own narrative framework. In some chapters, the collaborator-of these memoirs, the editor W. Hlava, advances the word to our most popular international in full.
Some chapters will therefore also be very valuable instructional advice, delivered by an expert, recognized not only by connoisseurs of the art of football, but also by the entire Czechoslovak sports public.
We believe that by publishing interesting reminiscences of our most popular international, we will be grateful not only to all athletes, but also to those for whom the word football, with all its joys and sorrows, is still a completely unknown object.
TODAY KÁĎA IS PLAYING...
During the heyday the Czechs, a jubilant Charley Balling (a great supporter of Sparta in civilian clothes and later the chairman of its swimming section) burst into the director's office of Hašler's company and exclaimed: "I'm singing a new tremendous sports hit from tomorrow." Before those present could ask: "What kind?" Charley sat down at the piano, and suddenly the director's roaring melody of the song "Káďa is playing today, the golden-haired prima donna!" When he finished singing, he looked triumphantly over the directors, members, guests, authors present and provoked a defiant "You're watching, aren't you?" A certain tenor blinked his eyes sheepishly and added: "It's good, but it's sporty!" A Spartan fan, Rubín, whose Spartan and sporting blood is well known, slashed at the unsporty tenor with the remark: "It's good, precisely because it's sporty !" "It would be even better if you wrote today is playing Vaník or Štaplík!" the red-and-white feeling of the author Rudy Jurist was revealed from the corner, who already at that time was converting his gardeners and owners of the alley to the Slavist faith by having to sign the application to Slavia.
The director Karel Hašler, who must have already had newly born songs running through his head, still with his sweaty forehead, somewhat far-reaching, said nothing. But we certainly wouldn't be arguing if we said for him at the time: "Damn, it's going to be a hit, it's a shame I didn't come up with that of Káďa myself!"
This event happened in 1921, at the beginning of Sparta's most famous era, and in a few days the entire packed Lucerna hall with Charley Balling was singing: "Káďa is playing, the golden-haired prima donna...!"
Young and old, athletes and non-athletes sang in unison. At table No. 16, a young doctor who had just graduated was sitting in the company of his fiancee and her mother. She was a stout lady from Olomouc. When she finished singing, she asked her future son-in-law: Listen, Jaroušek, who is that Káďa, golden-haired prima donna? Her eyes lit up, she didn't even know why, when she learned that Káďa was the continent's most famous and popular footballer and her native! That's why while singing the second chorus, she happily pounded her fist on the chair so that everyone would know that she was proud of her compatriot, who is so famous that even songs are composed about him. The next day, Jaroušek had to buy tickets to Sparta so that she could see that golden-haired Káďa with her own eyes at work.
FOLLOWING THE FATE OF THE GOLDEN-HAIRED PRIMA DONNA
If the composer of the song and all those who spread it across the country at the speed of an avalanche were to retrace the footsteps of the golden-haired prima donna, they would first of all have to stop at the small tenement house in Olomouc, where on September 20, 1895, Káďa-Pešek entered the playground of life for the first time. The applause of the barriers did not accompany him at that time, even the typical golden brushes were missing. After six years, you would rather recognize Káďa. Mainly after the hair and then mainly after the awakening football passion. Little Karel kicked everything he could find. His father was the first supplier of football props, and his job was a paper maker. From this you can judge that the first balls were soft and papery in nature. One football exhibition by a little football enthusiast was followed by cheers and shouts. Karel kicked the ball with such vehemence that he split his new patent leather shoes in half. There was also a big shout after this wonderful kick. Unfortunately, it was not the esteemed audience that did the shouting, but little Karel himself. After all, who wouldn't scream when they get spanked for too much evidence of promoting the art of football? However, young children prefer to do forbidden things. That's why even our football enthusiast ignored paper soldiers, kites and balls, but appeared everywhere where something, at least somewhat similar to a ball, was rolling.
The beginnings of ball technique were therefore laid on Moravian soil, but they were perfected among the Slovak boys in Liptovský Sv. Mikuláš, where Pešek's father moved for some time. However, Pešek's family did not breathe well in the new residence, so little Karel soon found himself in Prague! Here, Karel soon became acquainted with the famous football guard of the Prague boys, who formed the most famous era of Czech football at the historical spots: Sifnerik, Kanálská žářina, Na cíkánek, na chánčích and at the Vinohrady brewery. There is probably no Prague football international whose eyes would not light up or shine at the mention of the named patches.
Football plácky! If only someone could take you and all those enthusiastic, indulgent boys in their arms, and preserve them intact for the football museum! Then the entire sports generation of today could see the cradle of the glorious era of Czech football.
Football sticks are not only the herbarium of the most beautiful memories of youth, but they selflessly brought up more true football players for our football than all the learned gentlemen, instructors, professors, physical education advisers, simply the whole cream of today's football experts!
MEETINGS OF INTERNATIONALS NEAR THE OLD VÁCHY
On the plácky with a cloth, or even sometimes with a luxurious "tennis ball" that was left over from the estate, the game was played in the true sense of the word until either the shoes or the ball were torn. It must be emphasized that half of the stars of the flat sky played barefoot. Sometimes the teams were weakened dismantling, and that in the case when the mothers or, if we want to talk about the worst, the fathers came for their sons, accompanying their departure with appropriate lamentation. Indeed, sometimes we even witnessed the unhealthy phenomena of our playgrounds, that the star was at this early termination of the game even insulted. Fierce fights on the plácky also often ended with the ball being fought over in the penalty area. The goalposts were replaced by coats, stones or bricks. The height of the goal was estimated according to the credibility of the goalkeeper's word of honor, that it was not a goal, but a terrible egg! And it also happened that for frequent eggs either the goalkeeper received a couple of slaps, or they were bestowed upon the lucky scorer of the goal, panting, that the meruna went between the goalkeeper's hands. The fate of the egg also suffered from the performance of the referee, who was criticized by both sides for not being able to estimate correctly whether the ball really went high over the bar or not.
Plácky was, as already indicated, the most fertile ground for the education of young football players. However, today's way of educating teenagers looks like wrapping noble archprinces in cotton wool. Today's teenager already has great football boots, a shirt, a true ball, a regular field, a judge, a masseur, a coach, an audience, and very often even patrons with premiums and amateur dinners. Of course, different times, different customs! This greenhouse education of football youth against the earlier truly spartan education of football youth has, of course, its light and shade.
However, our old bunch of slobs only got to the true ball on a festive occasion. She was usually seen in Letná on the playground of the "Association for the cultivation of youth games". Professor Klenka in a typical cape, with a goatee à la Comenius, overlooked the legion of sports-loving youth. Old Váchý, the faithful guardian of the playground and the prop of the association, pumped the balls that he eager football adepts took almost by hand.
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