LOVE IMPALED

NEW YORK, US, AUGUST 2016 (1)

Staring blankly at the TV screen, I couldn't tell exactly how I felt, what were my feelings. I had to admit that a tiny – was it really tiny? – part of me was happy. I fantasized that maybe right about now, the coach was asking himself whether I would have done better. I knew he had had a hard time in making that decision, I tried to understand and level with it ever since. All for nothing, because the moment when, after the training hours, he called me in his office kept coming back.

"Anna, I'd like a word with you, if you're done."

My heart fell directly to my stomach, as I knew the time for announcing the members of the team that were to participate at the Olympic games in Rio was close.

"I'm done, coach, what's it about?"

He gave me a smile and with a small movement of his head, he showed me the office. Suddenly, my legs felt like being those of another person, with a will of their own, refusing to move. Somehow, I took over and crawled, or so it seemed, in the office.

"Have a sit," he said. You must be tired."

"A bit. Hit me!"

He knew me well, just as I knew him. We both knew there was no place for the beating around the bush, I've always been direct and requested the same from the others.

"Gonna hit you hard. You're not going to Rio!"

Contrary to what I would have expected, a sea of calmness swept me through. It was a deep, peaceful sensation, as if he had been talking to another person, and I was just observing that conversation, from a very distant point. I could hear my perfectly balanced breathing, feel my relaxed muscles, follow every line of thought. I could even tell the strain the coach was under, standing there, brow furrowed and sweated, while giving me the worst news of my life.

I nodded in serene acceptance, not saying anything. Not that I wanted to give him a hard time, I just didn't feel the need of speaking, of asking questions or of rebelling against his words and decision.

"Anna, trust me, I know how this feels. I've been there myself, not only once. I just need you to understand."

Eyeing me, he continued:

"You're not helping me."

"What do you want me to do? I'm actually behaving myself, am I not?"

"I knew this was gonna be difficult," he murmured.

An eternity passed between his last reply and the next. We were staring at each other, just like on a tournament, as if each one of us was seizing the opponent, looking for the perfect time and place to strike. Eventually, he was the one to speak first.

"You're ready, I'll give you that. Actually, you might be in better shape than some of the other girls. But this decision that I made is not and cannot be based solely on that. There are some other reasons a coach has to consider when assembling a team."

I continued to remain silent.

"The sisters have to go together, they are the core of this team. I simply cannot separate them. On the other side ..."

He did not continue, but there was no need to. Being a loner marked my entire life and I always paid for it without giving too much thought, it came with the territory. Yes, I didn't fit in. I am too direct, too intense, too unwomanly with the other girls, far too estranged to be fully accepted as one of their one. Obviously, I was an asset for the team, none of the girls denied that, yet there was a huge distance between that and a member of the inner circle. No party no hearty, the girls said, which meant you're either one that can share our way of doing things or you're not. I was definitely not.

But this time it hurt, because it was what I'd been training for 4 years. 4 years of pain, sweat, intense work, years in which I practically had no personal life, giving up everything just to attain the goal. All for nothing, as it looked like.

"You know I'm not gonna have a second shot at this. I'm 27. There won't be any other Olympics for me, it's this time or never."

"I know," he said, pallor on his face. "I know, Anna. This is what's draining the life out of me."

Another pause.

"I want you to know that this was a suggestion from all the staff, to which I have to admit I agreed, because of the bigger picture. I repeat, it's for the greater good. But they left the hard part of giving it to you on me."

The echoes of that discussion faded away. Now the US saber team was out, being equalized in the final minute by the Romanian team and then defeated in the extra-time. A curious thought crossed my mind in that exact instant, when bitterly saying to myself that I would have been better off to have joined the Romanian team. In the end, I have Romanian origins, my granny came to US from that part of the world.

Scoffing at the thought, I was now starring at the TV screen, trying to cope with the reality. US out, Romania in the final, against China. Deciding to stay put and watch until the end, making myself comfortable on the sofa, I began to arrang the pillows only to hear the cell ringing. There was but one person in the world who could call at this time.