Bernat Solà: "I organized the first ski jumpers' strike and we had won within five minutes."

BarcelonaIf Bernat Solà (Mataró, 1965) had been born in another country, perhaps a film would have been made about him. For more than a decade, this man from the Maresme region carved out a place for himself among the world's best springboard divers. Despite the lack of a strong tradition in the sport, Solà participated in two Winter Olympic Games and led strikes to defend athletes' rights. Suffering falls and living far from home, he earned the respect of foreign divers in a sport that, just as he retired, disappeared in Spain. Now nobody dives in Catalonia. In part, because there are no more springboards left in the Pyrenees.

How does someone from Mataró end up so connected to the world of mountaineering?

— My father had been an athlete. One of those who did everything. He played and coached roller hockey and was a member of the Unió Excursionista de Catalunya (Catalan Mountaineering Club). He was one of those who would take the train up to go skiing. That's how he took his children to the snow. Mr. Jordi Aymat, the great promoter of ski jumping in our region, was a member of the Mountaineering Club. And he was a friend of my parents. He was the one who recruited kids to jump at La Molina, and that's how I got hooked.

What role did your mother play?

— Since Mr. Jordi Aymat was from Mataró and his mother was a secretary, she went to work with him on the Show Jumping Committee of the Spanish Federation. She remembers that all the parents helped out in any way they could. Some acted as judges, some organized events... When Aymat died of an illness, his mother became president of the committee. And she accompanied us on many trips.

Back then we had ski jumps to reach the Pyrenees. Now there aren't any left. What was that time like?

— Jumping had already taken place in La Molina in the 1920s. And in the 1930s, the best jumpers from Norway came to compete, such as Sigmund Ruud, who jumped before a huge crowd. After the Civil War, things slowed down, and at most, jumps were made from a trampoline 30 meters. It was Jordi Aymat who got everything moving. He approached Alfonso de Borbón, who was the president of the Spanish Winter Sports Federation, and secured his support to professionalize ski jumping, hiring foreign coaches. He also brought over a young man from Elche who lived in Switzerland, where he was a ski jumper, Tomás Cano. In 1982, a very good Austrian coach, Willi Pürstl, who had won the Four Hills Tournament, arrived. And with him, everything started to become more professional. A group was formed based in La Molina. I was 15 years old and went to live there alone. It was traumatic. Leaving my friends and family wasn't easy. I didn't start to feel well until the second year because the training was very tough. They made us run down snowy slopes... it was like military service.

In the Pyrenees we had ski jumps, but we had to head towards the Alps, I suppose.

— Yes. I remember going to France when I was 9 or 10 to train with Grenoble. They had these plastic trampolines that allowed us to train all summer. They took us to Slovenia a few times, which was still part of Yugoslavia back then. And to get back, they'd put two or three of us 14-year-olds on a train, give us some money, and we'd go home alone. You'd leave Yugoslavia for Barcelona by train and get lost along the way! I remember once the train broke down in Milan and they made us get off. We didn't speak Italian, we were all alone... a man lent us money to pay for the train home and we paid him back by mail. Adventures galore.

When I started competing, how was I viewed by the other teams?

— We were a bit of a joke because we weren't very skilled. But little by little, with effort, we improved. We had to adapt to the big trampolines, where you could easily get hurt. In fact, one of my teammates, Arnau Bofill, was paralyzed after a fall. We earned the respect of the others because they saw we had the guts to jump. At first, we were always last. Until we got our act together and started to earn their respect.

Isn't it scary the first time you jump off a big diving board?

— The truth is, the most fear I've ever experienced was as a child on small, 30-meter diving boards. I remember in Navacerrada, near Madrid, when I was eight years old, refusing to jump off an icy artificial diving board. Later, I enjoyed jumping on the larger boards. It's worth noting that in 1978, a 75-meter diving board was built in La Molina, which prepared you for the 90-meter boards and beyond.

And what was it like to be in a mythical place like Garmisch-Partenkirchen, participating in the famous competition on the first day of the year?

— Back then we were very focused on the competition; it wasn't as professional as it is now. We'd wait for the chimes, toast the new year, and go to bed, but there wasn't much partying. The truth is, the atmosphere when you jump is exciting; it's a special place.

You could have been an Olympian twice. And in 1984 in Sarajevo before the war.

— I was very young. I'd just started to make a name for myself the year before. Tomás Cano was supposed to go to the Games, but he was doing his military service. So I went with another Catalan, Àngel Joaniquet. I was 18 years old and I was with my idols. I remember the Italian skier Alberto Tomba and Katarina Witt, the German figure skater. Or the atmosphere at the ice hockey games. And there I was, just a kid. Years later, when the war broke out... those of us who had gone had our hearts broken.

After Sarajevo is when you compete at your best, with good performances in the World Cup.

— Yes, I was very strong. I had already earned European Cup points, and in a World Cup event in Sapporo, Japan, I finished 14th, an incredible result. By then, I was the only Spaniard competing alone, on a circuit with the Austrians, the Norwegians... I pushed myself really hard. I also spent a season training in the United States with a Czech coach.

They told you the atomic ant.

— Because I was the youngest on the team when I started at eight years old. I was very small. And since they showed cartoons on TV called that... well, I got the nickname "the ant." I had a lot of character. In fact, I organized the first divers' strike.

How was it?

— It was in Oslo, Norway. There were 100,000 spectators, more than at Barcelona's stadium. And they all paid for a ticket. But we divers didn't get anything, apart from gifts. Maybe, if we were lucky, one of those bulky Nokia mobile phones they kept handing out. Or a bicycle. And I said, "That can't be right, when you run the numbers. The organizers are making a fortune." So I gathered the best divers of the time and proposed a strike. With a list of proposed cash prizes. And in five minutes they accepted our demands. We were risking our lives and they weren't paying us, it made no sense! Now they're making a good living, unlike back then.

When do you decide to fold?

— In the early 90s, my back was wrecked from injuries. I was worried about my future and decided to dedicate myself to helping the young athletes who were coming up through the ranks. We had trampolines in La Molina and I wanted to look after the kids. I went around to the schools looking for new talent, trying to make the most of my experience. I spent three years as a coach with the Spanish Federation. And then came the big blow. That's when new disciplines like...snowboard And the Federation backed them. Then the people in charge of the Federation changed, and they sidelined us. Overnight, they undid three decades of work. They decided it wasn't making us money and they put an end to the jumping events. It was very fast.

The ski jumps disappeared in no time. Nothing remained in the Pyrenees. How did you experience the 2030 Games bid? Did you believe that ski jumping could be brought back to our home?

— At first, yes, I did speak with people from the bid team. It seemed like the bid might revive the ski jumps, but then they said they wouldn't build any ski jumps in the Pyrenees... that if they won, the jumps would be in Sarajevo or the Alps. And I realized that wouldn't be possible. I had even imagined some jumps in indoor in Barcelona, ​​to promote this sport, but nothing.

What did you do after that?

— I used to be a ski instructor. I played football in Cerdanya, but unfortunately, five years ago I developed peripheral vertigo, which prevented me from doing any kind of sport except swimming. It's terrible: you lose your balance, it's hard to walk... They determined it originated in my ear, in a nerve. So I can't do sports like I used to. I moved back to Mataró years ago.