Читать книгу Dmitrii Shilov: from bankput to millionaire - Eks Aleksey - Страница 10

Evening training on the ice of the stadium “Yenisei” ended, and the field players one by one skated to the cloak room. This element was always carried out quickly and accurately without additional commands of the head coach. By that time Mitya had moved from the outfield players into goalkeepers —the guys with the best skating ran to attack, and Dmitrii Shilov continued his father’s work, being the only player of the team without a stick. And there was no discrimination – in hockey a goalkeeper was not supposed to have a stick. Against high-speed forwards, a goalkeeper of Russian hockey has only sleight of hand, reaction and task to hit the ball with any part of the body.

– Hey, guy! – Mitya was called by a hockey player of a medium height in his mid twenties, – do not run into the cloak room, stand up at the gates gates, I want to work through my strikes.

– “Well, come on,” Mmitya agreed, “practice will never harm.”

– “Learn, lad, while I am alive!” – an experienced striker said and with careless movements of his stick he lined up a straight row of balls on the ice, —

come on, catch, don’t shame the name!

“We’ll see who shames himself here,” Mitya chuckled to himself. In “two-way” where fast movement is very important, Mitya didn’t remember that guy. But while training he hit hard and as the gates in hockey are small, orange “cannonballs” flew from this “gun” mostly into a goalkeeper. Shoulders, arms, legs were hurt, a couple of times they flew into the stomach. Finally, the bombardier got tired and waved to Mitya, saying, “let’s go!”, moved into the cloak room. And then, feeling under the sweater several fresh bruises, Mitya could not keep silence:

– Why are you hitting so hard?

– Hard? the sniper took off his helmet, his red hair was wet. – It was I who pitied you!

– OK, next time you will stand at the gate, and I’ll hit.

– All right. Hey, how old are you?

– — Eighteen.

– Hey, a grown man! Let’s go there and drink with the guys after a long and hard training.

– Come on. What’s your name?”

– — Vladilen.

– — Vladimir?

– “Not Vladimir, but Vladilen. From Vladimir Lenin.

– I’m Mitya.

– I know! You’re the son of Sergey Ivanovich, I remember when you were young. I could burst into tears from emotion, but it’s cold, and all the tears have gone out through sweat.

– Well, let’s restore the water balance!

– — Well, vodka is 60 percent of water!

Never before the players have changed their clothes after training so quickly and purposefully… After all, sport is a big school of life. And the evening continued exactly the same way, as many years later many joint evenings will be held with the participation of Dmitrii Shilov and Vladilen Vyazhevich.

Mitya, are you sure that you will be a goalkeeper?

– Sure.

– That’s a boy! Now look, don’t switch!

– “For what?”

– The forward. I don’t want any competition.