Erstellt am: 24. 1. 2014 - 11:15 Uhr
"You Put The Risks To The Back Of Your Mind"
“As a racer you can’t afford to think too much about the risks,” says former Austrian ski racer Hans Grugger. “You have to put them to the back of your mind and concentrate on what you are doing. Of course, after my accident I was confronted with just how much danger is involved.
Chris Cummins
At the Hahnenkamm weekend in Kitzbühel in 2011, Grugger crashed so badly at the notorious Mausefalle section of during a training run down the Streif that he was left in a coma for two weeks and underwent emergency brain surgery to relieve the pressure in his skull.
On a training run he lost balance after a miscalculation on the entry to the blind 90 metre jump. His body twisted in mid-air and, unable to recover the direction, he slammed back down violently onto the piste onto his shoulder, his head cracking down on the heavily iced snow. Losing consciousness immediately, his limp body hurtled headfirst down the slope, tossed around like a rag doll.
Three Months of Memory Loss
“I can’t remember anything for four weeks after the crash and for two months before,” he told me when I met him in his home town of Bad Hofgastein this month. “I`m just so happy that the emergency services looked after me so sensationally so that I can talk about it now.”
I still remember the sickening feeling in my stomach as I watched the crash on television with the eerie quiet broken only by the juddering of the helicopter and the Austrian commentators` attempts to find anything meaningful to say.
The Brutality of Sport
For me there is a faint sense of complicity in sports accidents. The difficulty of the course makes the Streif the ultimate challenge for the racers, potentially separating the very good from the very best. But its spectacular brutality is also a draw for spectators. I always wonder whether lives are being risked for our entertainment.
Medics whisked Grugger away by helicopter to Innsbruck, where doctors placed the ski racer in an induced coma for two weeks. He underwent brain surgery to relieve the pressure in his skull and despite a comeback attempt next season, he never raced professionally again.
A career that had involved four race wins on the World Cup circuit and an appearance at the Vancouver Olympics was prematurely ended when the athlete was just 29 years old.
A Full Recovery
Three years on, the scar from the brain surgery is still easily visible on the side of his head, but despite some problems during occasional periods of prolonged concentration and a niggle with his right foot, he’s made a full recovery.
Indeed within a few months of the accident, he trained his physical fitness almost up to his pre-accident levels and was planning a comeback in the World Cup circuit. He was back on snow for the first time that autumn, getting to a Tyrolean glacier before the lifts opened to make the first turns in privacy:
Chris Cummins
“I was really nervous. But in the end it makes normal to be putting my skis on again.” But the comeback never materialised and a career that had promised so much and involved four race wins on the World Cup circuit as well as an appearance in the start hut at the Vancouver Olympics was prematurely ended when the athlete was just 29 years old.
There is no sense of self-pity, however, when Grugger looks back at the events of that January day. Modest, gracious, slightly shy but quick to laugh, he is philosophical about racing. “I don’t miss it to be honest. After everything I have been through I am just thankful and happy that I am healthy and can enjoy life.” He still follows the World Cup circuit, firing on his former teammates who remain close friends. He`ll even watch the Hahnenkamm race, but adds with a smile “for me a good race is when all the athletes get down to the finish safely.”
That’s my philosophy too and I’d searched Grugger out because he was helping out as an instructor at a Gastein training camp called Skiteufel. With the winter proving a disappointing year for British sports fans (with defeats for the national cricket team and football teams) I’d decided to make a last minute bid to become a giant slalom Olympic champion.
Gasteiner Schiteufel
With tact, Grugger tried to deflate my expectations “Well really to be honest, Sochi might be a bit soon for you,” he warned me softly as we headed up the mountain on a funicular train, “but I can teach you the basics of racing technique.” Most Austrians learn some form race training during school trips, but, despite having vocal opinions while watching racing on television, I’d never carved around a ski pole in my life. ”It’s best to make sure you keep skiing smoothly,” advised Hans, “and don’t get too irritated by the gates.”
Stefanie Geschwantner
I’d clearly found a good teacher. It was a privilege watching Grugger ski. I admired his still upper body and the effortless flow of this turns. To keep my Olympic dream alive, we worked on keeping more weight on my downhill ski and tackling the gates with rounded turns making sure I didn’t go too direct and lose my rhythm.
After the thrills after the professional circuit, I asked Grugger if skiing had become boring for him: “No. Your level drops off quite quickly and skiing is still a challenge for me.” He said he loved being out and enjoys particularly the freeride opportunities behind the Hohe Scharte mountain. And of course, I assumed, he enjoyed training ambitious British wannabes.
On race day an easy course of red and blue gates had been marked out in the early morning. As we put in repeated practice runs I was getting smoother and more confident. Yet, afraid of catching my skies in the gates, I was still taking a very long way around and losing those precious fractions of a second. There was still plenty of work to be done.
Stefanie Geschwantner
On the way back up to the up in the chairlift, Hans and I discussed the dangers of the sport that could easily have cost him his life. Is downhill racing too risky? “Of course it is dangerous, but every athlete taking part knows what they are doing,” he told me. He pointed to new safety innovations such as air-bags that can be incorporated into the racers’ back protectors and improvements in the thickness and strength of the helmets. “But there will always been a certain aspect of risk involved. I suppose that is inevitable.”
So why do the athletes take those risks? “Because it is an incredible feeling,” says Grugger. It’s fun and beautiful.” A man with no regrets.
Back on the piste, after a last minute lesson in starting technique, it was time to start my first race. After much joking around, I realised I was pretty nervous as I waited for the start-official to count me down. Under my breath, I repeated Hans’ advice: “Start the turn early, stay round and smooth.” The starter counted down from three and I launched myself out of the gate. I quickly found a decent rhythms but the hard piste worn into rivets made my all-mountain skis judder and, distracted and ambitious, I tried to go too direct, veer well off the ideal line and had to throw in a sliding emergency turn just to make the next gate.
Rather red-faced I asked my coach Hans Grugger for some feedback:
“Well, you did fine - but you did exactly what I told you not to do. You went too direct. But don’t worry. That’s normal for beginners.”
So it is time I faced up to it. I won’t be at the Olympics next month.
So, in my absence, who is Grugger’s hot tip?
“Hmmm. I’m not sure. An Austrian!”