
An Albanian chain reaction
Tirana-born athlete Dorian Collaku is a cargo handler at Sompasaari
By Petteri Ala-Kivimäki
The legendary Finnish entertainer Pertti "Spede" Pasanen was in the habit of slapping his forehead with his hand and swearing under his breath, when he experienced something special.
If Spede were still alive and saw Dorian Collaku, he would smack himself so hard that birds would take wing for miles around.
Last Sunday the phone rang in the editorial office of Helsingin Sanomat. A man of mature years was shouting at the other end of the line in a Tampere dialect, spiced with some fruity expletives, and reporting on an undocumented heroic deed. Undocumented by us, at least.
“Look, Kollaku threw 75.20 metres in a hammer throw competition in Espoo and neither Helsingin Sanomat nor even the TV teletext bothered to breathe a word about it, although they reported on everything else - even on some bloody darts results, ferchrissakes!”
Oh. Really?
“This Kollaku - with a C - is the best athlete in Albania”, the informant went on.
“He is a bloody good-looking bloke, too. I just stared slack-jawed when I saw him for the first time”, the caller enthused.
The caller - who was later discovered to be a resident in the municipality of Pälkäne near Tampere - was not exaggerating.
The 30-year-old hammer thrower Dorian Collaku, who now lives in Espoo’s Matinkylä, has been the best athlete in Albania for many years. Usually he has also been voted the best individual sportsman and he was chosen as Albania’s Sports Personality of the Year twice (in 1997 and 1999).
Collaku works as a stevedore at Helsinki’s Sompasaari Harbour - rather heavy work. However, he combines work and training in an ideal way.
“I don’t have to go to the gym often. I train mainly just by throwing”, says Collaku while showing off his workplace.
A large ship is being loaded at the Sompasaari quay.
"If I have a break, I train with this”, notes Collaku, lifting a 7-kilo chain which is normally used to fasten up the freight.
Collaku starts spinning around like he were in a hammer circle. The hooks of the chain whizz through the air, when he is whirling around in his safety shoes and an orange overall.
”This is a really good platform. This would be good enough even for a competition”, the Albanian comments on the deck of the vessel.
It would be difficult to imagine training the hammer throw with more port credibility than Collaku demonstrates..
Other stevedores are coming back from their coffee break. Judging from the looks on their faces, the idea of the 115-kilo, 1.84-metre Albanian training hammer throwing on Deck 7 with a thick chain is OK.
“We are doing some hammer practice on the 7th deck; you cannot bring any goods up here”, one of the rough onlookers growls into his walkie-talkie.
It is probably time to leave.
A key ring carrying the red Albanian coat of arms swings and a well-worn Volkswagen Vento starts up. Collaku drives his car to a nearby petrol station and in the café of the station he starts telling his story once more.
In 1997, one might say that Albania had somewhat tighter collective bargaining talks than we usually get in Finland.
“A civil war broke out, with shootings in the streets. A decision was made to send me and two other sportsmen to Kuortane, close to Seinäjoki in Ostrobothnia, where we could study and train”, recalls Collaku after having lived 10 years in Finland.
Collaku represents Kuortaneen Kunto, the local sports club in Kuortane, but is about to move to Espoon Tapiot, a sports club in the City of Espoo. However, he is not going to give up the sports uniform of the Albanian Federation of Athletics.
“I will apply for the Finnish citizenship, but on sports fields I will always be Albanian”, says Collaku.
Not that the Albanian Federation of Athletics would have actually pampered its crown jewel. Anything but.
Some 20 years ago a certain Ajet Toska was the master of the Albanian hammer throwing circles.
So... do you have or did you have a poster of Ajet Toska on the wall?
“You must be kidding me. Actually, he is my worst enemy. Toska threw the Albanian record of 75.92 metres in 1986, and he doesn’t want anybody to ever break it”, Collaku reveals.
Toska became a swear-word for Collaku.
“For eight years he was the secretary-general of the Albanian Federation of Athletics, and during that time I was not granted even one euro as a subsidy. Not one. Moreover, Toska always came to personally measure my throws in Albanian competitions, even though there were marshals and judges assigned to each competition. One day I am going to break his record”, swears Collaku, whose own record is 75.78 metres so far. He set this in Tirana in 2005.
As an athlete and a human being Collaku is the dream of all sponsors. He is a tall, wiry man, the number one athlete in his country, yet confusingly humble, nice as pie, and very down-to-earth.
Somewhat surprisingly, Collaku’s sports clothes are free from advertisements, even though his friends run factories in Albania.
“Finland is so far away. I understand that they are not interested in sponsoring: imagine me throwing the hammer at a Finnish Elite Games meet somewhere, wearing a promo sticker of an Albanian furniture factory on my shirt front! After all, a sponsorhip support of some EUR 500 is roughly equal to two months’ salary in Albania”, shrugs Collaku, who visits his native country once a year on average.
“Now I am my own sponsor, when I work as a stevedore. This is quite a good situation”, Collaku says.
Helsingin Sanomat / First published in print 1.10.2007
More on this subject:
"I love to throw the hammer"
PETTERI ALA-KIVIMÄKI / Helsingin Sanomat
petteri.ala-kivimaki@hs.fi
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| 2.10.2007 - THIS WEEK |
An Albanian chain reaction
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