David’s collection isn’t kept behind glass. No cups, no medals. His most valuable pieces are stored in the heads of the young athletes to whom he passed on his experience. The former national judo competitor now collects hopes instead of personal victories — and he says it’s far more thrilling than his own European Championship finals.
When his career ended, he started looking for meaning
David competed for fifteen years. He went through hundreds of matches, broken bones and wins at international tournaments. When he retired at thirty-five, he felt a void. “Suddenly nothing. No training, no goals. I didn’t want to sit behind a desk and stare at a wall.” He began coaching children at a small club. He soon discovered that this fulfilled him more than his own achievements ever did.
The first boy who showed him what it was about
Patrik arrived at the club at twelve. He had no results, was quiet and shy. But on the mat he worked harder than anyone. David started to give him more attention. He drove him to training camps and paid his entry fees out of his own pocket. “I saw myself in him from twenty years ago. A kid with no money but a huge head for the sport.”
Four years later Patrik won his first national championship. Today he’s in the junior national team. David still covers his coach’s fees and equipment. “I didn’t perform a miracle. I just gave him time and stability. He did the rest himself.”
It’s not about money. It’s about being seen
David currently supports five young athletes in total. For some he pays private coaches, for others equipment, and for one he even rented an apartment so the athlete could move to a city with better training conditions. It’s not about forcing wins at any cost. He wants them to have the chance he had as a young athlete.
“When I started, my parents supported me. Not everyone is that lucky. Now I can pass that chance on. It’s a circle. And I enjoy it more than any trophy.”
I’m not a foundation. I’m not rich. I’m just a former athlete who knows how hard it is to break through. If I can make someone’s path easier, I do it. Trophies rust. Hopes grow.
David, former national representative and supporter of young talents
How to become a collector of hopes
David’s advice: “You don’t have to be a millionaire. You only need one thing — time. Each of us knows a talented boy or girl who’s not having an easy time. Ask them what they need. Maybe just new shoes. Or a lift to competitions. Or someone to acknowledge their efforts. That can’t be replaced by money.”
Author: Sponza Editorial Team
Photographs: (illustrative – former athlete with a young talent)
