A clash of biblical proportions

Monday morning. Dark, dreary, dreadful. An old antique clock with Roman numerals ticks away on the wall, its slow sonorous pendulum marking out the march towards our impending doom. I’m not alone in my fear. The noise of the silence is a crescendo of pressure. I don’t like Mondays. Long before the Boomtown Rats ever penned the iconic song, I knew.

I’m ten years old. I’m making my confirmation this year. This is Catechism class. There is no pressure like this. More than one of us has peed his pants when we did not know the answer to what the fifth commandment is. The master sits atop a desk made of the same dark wood as the clock, leather in one hand, bible in the other. 

The threat of the bishop on the day of our confirmation kept us focused and the leather was just an added bonus. We were under pressure to perform to the best of our ability or woe betide the consequences.

But to be honest, I also really enjoyed the stories from the Bible: Limbo, purgatory, hell and heaven. The miracles and the fire and brimstone. The fact that I didn’t understand the word "adultery" and "covet" made no difference.

It got me thinking about what pressure means. For most, it’s the daily grind of making ends meet. That’s what’s really tough in this world.

But sports bring with it its own pressure. The pressure to appease and entertain the thousands of fans whose lives revolve around the team. The pressure to win. The pressure from the board and owners. The players may enjoy a greater level of lifestyle than that of the humble labourer but they live under a kind of pressure most of us wouldn’t even understand. 

Imagine you are the coach in Vardar. New to the job, having taken over from a club legend. It's your first major coaching role in the men's top flight. You lose the best goalkeeper in the world in Sterbik. You lose two of the top centre players in the world in Cindric and Canellas. The best defender in Abutovic. A right back in Maqueda. Your squad is stripped so bare that you have a starting seven and not much more and you have to make it work. Now that is pressure.

Add to that, injuries to his best back court player in Borozan and a key line player in Moraes and what Parrando has pulled off is nothing short of a miracle. No one at the start of the season gave them a chance, but he has turned water into wine. Last week's win away to RNL must rate as one of the best of the season.

His opponent this week is his old teammate David Davis. Once on opposite wings for an electric all-conquering team, they now find themselves on opposite benches. If you think Parrando is under pressure at Vardar, then spare a thought for Davis when it comes to Veszprém. This is a club that demands success and second place is nowhere. Just look at the litany of coaches cast aside in search of silverware.

It is his first major coaching role in the VELUX EHF Champions League as well. Two novice coaches taking on roles at two of the most ambitious and exacting clubs in Europe. And if Parrando is working miracles at Vardar, this guy has raised a team from the grave. In the vein of Lazarus, this Veszprém team looked dead and buried after only a few matches at the start of the season. A team completely juxtaposed to Vardar, they had a range of stars in each position but looked like a jeep racing in Formula 1. Whatever Davis has done has reinvigorated this team and they are coming off the back of a great win against Barcelona.

This is going to be epic.

Davis coming back to the club he helped guide to a title in Europe.

This is going to be legendary.

Sterbik trying to silence a crowd who once applauded his every save.

This is going to be Biblical.

There is a new "Christian" on court for Vardar.

Two VVs looking for a W.

Pressure. Tension. Stress. Strain.

But it beats working for a living.