Alexandr Satinský

“I used to spend quite a lot of time at the Svinovy railway. I would buy myself four beers, which they would serve me in a wax cup. This utterly disgusting Ostravar beer. Back then, it had been almost undrinkable, but today, it´s much better. And I would be sitting on the platform, watching trains, reading and drinking. The most exhilarating experience would be as the express train from Warsaw to Vienna would arrive. It would regularly show up at nightfall. And I would be could in that bleak autumn air so I would huddle in my coat, watching the carriages from which this soft yellow light would pour, illuminating the station. Inside, people in t-shirts would be sitting, talking. And I would watch them, knowing that the train would cross the border in few hours and they would be in that completely different world of which I could only dream of. Those were the moments I felt that happiness was almost within my reach. I would tell myself: 'Just look at it. You have to sit hear on the platform and they would just leave for Vienna to pursue their happiness.' And for me, that would be the proof that this happiness indeed could be found somewhere. And to realise there were places where people has been living for real, that in fact was a beautiful thing.”

“I would learn a lot. As these guys wouldn't give me anything for free. And as time would pass I would get to know their character. I had been working with such a great boys as David Neff or Michal Sváček. Not to mention Herbert Slavík. And smog was one of the most important topics covered by the journalists in the 90s. Back then, it had been this big issue across the country. And I remember Herbi would call us in the morning as we were having a meeting and he would tell us: 'Take a photo of that smog!' We had no clue how to deal with that. We would run the street of Ostrava like madmen and we couldn´t imagine how to do that. Still, it wasn´t what we wanted. And in the end we would get quite angry. As we felt that people from the editorial office in Prague were just bossing us around doing nothing. So Herbert Slavík would get in a car, drove to the Northern Bohemia and he would take a photo of smog that was so good that all we could do was just stand there and stare. I still can see the composition: a chimney, a light fog and a bird flying across the sky at one point. The guy knew exactly where he had to stand and what to do to get such a result. And he was my boss. So I am still proud of it in a way.”

“Since I was twelve years old, I had the permanent pass to all Baník matches. It had been this sheet of paper with columns of numbers on the sides. On the one side it went from one to eight, and on the other side it would go from nine to sixteen. And after you would come to the stadium, they would tear off one of the numbers. Even then, I would go there just by myself. I can still recall all the buses and trams packed with old miners. And I used to like their humour so much, both harsh and clever. Back then, Bazaly stadium might have had about thirty thousand seats. And I would lover the smog during the summer as the whole stadium filled with men would start to cough. The atmosphere, that´s something you just can´t forget. Everyone would have a cigarette in his mouth, warm beer and cold sausages were being brought. And I would have this sense of belonging to my city. Baník has been a piece of our heart, a piece of ourselves.”