Where to start? I’ve been away for quite some time.
I don’t even know how to upload what I want to share.
I’ll give it a try, though.
Rest in Peace, my dear Sasha (14 June 1929 – 16 July 2021)
I don’t know how to add tags.
Well then, here’s a haiku:
Eat less, but move more
My New Year’s resolutions
Declutter your home
This time I feel I might stick to my New Year’s Resolutions! I stopped making them years ago because I never saw them through. Well, this time I feel I’m in the right frame of mind to achieve my goals. Wish me luck, and I wish you to realise all your dreams!
Happy New Year 2023 to you all! May it be filled with love, joy, good health, and prosperity!
Aleksandar Sasha Dimitric – Handball Legend in Former Yugoslavia and in Oz!
My husband Aleksandar Sasha Dimitric introduced European Handball to Australia in 1983 and was Technical Manager for Handball at the Olympics 2000 in Sydney.
Sydney Olympics 2000
He was recognised in my previous post by a blogger (gamche) who commented: “Aleksandar Dimitrić Zvezdina rukometna legenda??? (the Red Star Handball legend???)”, to which I replied “Yes” and promised to write more about his handball career. Sasha had a big smile when I showed him what “gamche” said and promised to cooperate. Unfortunately, illness intervened, and this project stalled before it had even started.
But when I make a promise, I feel I need to keep it. So, here’s the first instalment.
A long time ago, 18-year-old Aleksandar Dimitrić chose handball over soccer and became one of the best Red Star handball players. He was also a member of the Yugoslav Handball Team at international championships in Germany, Denmark and Norway.
Aleksandar started playing handball in high school (II. muška gimnazija) in Belgrade in 1947 and soon joined the newly formed handball club within the famous Red Star sports club. He first trained on the football field with 11 players in the team, having to shoot from a 14-metre distance, thus developing a powerful shot.
Veliki Rukomet – 11 players a side – Aleksandar is second from left in front row
When he switched to “mali rukomet” – “little handball” – with 7 players a side, his shot was so powerful that goal keepers were quite scared of him. In addition, the speed of his movements and a high jump scared all the enemy players, too. He scored quite a few goals.
Aleksandar’s Mighty Jump Shot
In 1955, the Red Star handball club became Yugoslavia’s champions, and the event is still talked about today among sports enthusiasts. In 1956, they were champions again. Aleksandar Dimitrić took part in both events, the first in Belgrade, the second in Sarajevo.
Exhausted after a match representing YugoslaviaAleksandar representing Yugoslavia at European championships
To his great regret, he had to pull out of the Yugoslav national team to play in Hungary as he had to finish his studies – he had no right to postpone any more exams.
After obtaining an Engineering Bachelor’s Degree from Belgrade University in 1957, 12 months of compulsory military service followed. He was first sent to Zagreb. As soon as he was recognised as the famous handball star, the officer in charge released him of petty duties and allowed him to train handball with another person during lunchtime. After Zagreb, he was sent to Čačak in Serbia where his life was even better. He had his own room, was appointed chief coach for handball and played in handball competitions regularly for his unit.
Aleksandar Dimitric (second from the right) in Zagreb on the banks of the Sava in 1957
When his military service was over, Aleksandar took a skiing holiday on Mount Jahorina in Bosnia in February 1958. Skiing was his other passion. He took part in competitions in slalom and downhill on Kopaonik in Serbia, Šar Planina in Macedonia and on Mount Jahorina in Bosnia. He was a downhill Serbian champion once. He loved speeding down the mountain as much as moving fast on the handball court. Speed was his elixir. One season, he broke three pairs of skis but, luckily, none of his bones.
I loved skiing, too. Mount Jahorina was where destiny put me in late February 1958 to completely change the course of his life.
❤ ❤
Adding some more information from the book Almanah Rukometnog Saveza Jugoslavije 1949-1989.
Turnir nacija, Zagreb, 20. II 1956Yugoslav Representatives, members of the Red Star Handball Club, Belgrade
G’day folks! Happy Valentine’s Day! For me this year, all I want is a peace of mind, so I’m ditching the traditional red Rose and opting for the calming colour of a pale blue Plumbago blossom instead.
A sprig of Rosemary and a haiku to honour the fallen soldiers on Remembrance Day, 11 November, originally Armistice Day, when in 1918 World War One ended.
Fields drenched with their blood
The ultimate sacrifice
We remember them
Despite finding himself in many dangerous situations, my father came home safe and sound. He was just lucky, I guess.
To some, it doesn’t seem like 20 years ago. To me, it seems like 100 years ago! Both Sasha and I were so much fitter in those days! I remember I had both hips replaced that year, first in April and then in November. Sasha was so busy with the Olympics, being Technical Manager for Handball (European Handball) which he introduced to Australia in 1983, that he had hardly had any time for me. But I had a good time at Greenwich Hospital rehab, where in addition to regular exercises I demonstrated my belly dancing skills as well.
Aleksandar Sasha Dimitric
That was then.
Yesterday, we each survived a silly fall. I was the first to go for a sixer in the evening, landing on my face after tripping over an electrical cord. That feeling of helplessness and looming disaster when you’re flying and can’t stop it! And what a relief when you realise you didn’t break any bones and all your teeth are still keeping strong in your mouth! My upper lip is a bit bruised, that’s all. Ok, my back hurts a bit, but other than that I’m as fit as a fiddle, an old fiddle, mind you.
Sasha’s fall was stupid too. Despite my warnings, he regularly fails to lock his walker. So, last night when he reached for it, it rolled away from him!!! He found himself on the ground with the walker on top of him! His left calf is badly bruised, but nothing broken, hallelujah! Miracle!
This reminder might help. 🙂
Miracles do happen! We are two miracles. Two old fools too. Let’s just hope we’ve learned our lessons.
Sasha at the dentist recently. 🙂
This morning he said to me: “You know, your fall last night makes me feel so much better about myself.” And we both cracked up laughing.
We are counting our blessings today! ❤ ❤
Hope all is well with all of you bloggers! Take care and stay safe! ❤
I haven’t been here for a long long time. I hope you are keeping your spirits up despite the Covid-19 calamity that has been causing so much grief all over the world.
As for me, I’m trying to catch up on sleep every day ever since my husband’s health problems started in November 1919. He’s had a few surgeries, spent a long time in rehab and came home at the end of February 2020, just in the nick of time before the Covid-19 pandemic panic. Now, our social life consists of visiting doctors! Being elderly and not very healthy, we are advised to stay at home. Luckily, we live in a house with a garden and enjoy sitting in the sun, admiring the flowers around us and listening to the birds singing and chirping. A nurse comes to dress Sasha’s diabetic ulcer three times a week, and kind friends do small errands for us, but the bulk of our shopping is done online or by phone and delivered. Counting our blessings keeps us going.
I don’t know when I’ll appear here again. In the meantime, I wish everyone all the best and stay safe.
When I was nine years old, the war was on. The enemy drowning fast at last; the end Was near, but first the Allies had to bomb Our town to drive the fiend aground, and so We hid below in shelters, praying loud While bombs were shaking walls and breaking hearts And windows; I was always first to grab My bag with sugar when the siren howled, Then ran as fast as arrow; sheltered well Beneath, I thought; the drone of bombers near, Then whizz through air, then once again, three times Before the end — the siren shrilling flat.
With my mother during WWII. This photo was sent to my father, a POW in Lamsdorf, Germany.
Cosel Doctors – Lamsdorf – Stalag VIIIB/344
Back row from left: Dr B. Smith, Scotland; Dr J. Rigal, France; Dr T. Atkins, Australia; Dr A. Bazin, Russia
Front row from left: Padre L.G. Tudor, South Africa; Dr R.K. Webster, Great Britain; Dr B. Stojic, Yugoslavia; Dr N. Rose, Australia
I chose to repost this poem as this year we are celebrating the 75th anniversary of the end of WWII. My father was in a POW camp in Germany from 1941 t0 1945, and while the bombs were falling on us in Zagreb, he was trudging through deep snow with his mates, forced to march at gunpoint with the retreating German army for about four months before being liberated by the Americans in Nuremberg on April 17, 1945. This poem won The Poem of the Week award in Susan Budig’s Mindful Poetry Contest 2013. The challenge was to write a poem about our childhood in blank verse and iambic pentameter. It now appears in my book Dreams on my Pillow.
Irina's Poetry Corner 