Here’s my take on that article in The New York Times... honestly, it feels like it was just ripped from some random handball blog or something. Anyway, credit where it's due, I think this is written by Ljubo Vukic 😍
October 13, 2007. This is likely the first and last time I’ll ever post on this forum, but it’s the only way I can get the actual truth out there without putting my career on the line. Most of us players know exactly what’s going on, but nobody dares to say it publicly. I’ve just had enough. Let’s start with when Cervar first arrived to coach THW Kiel back in 2000. After just a few weeks of training, the guys realized they were dealing with a complete joke of a coach. He became the laughingstock of the locker room—honestly, you could write a book on how much the players mocked him, and Kljaić was leading the charge. He didn't dare say anything to anyone except the younger kids; the veterans did whatever they wanted, essentially playing the games themselves, setting the tactics, and switching zones and players whenever they felt like it. The first time he actually tried to run things his own way—taking the squad to preseason prep right before the Cup finals and starting the game without some of the senior players—we lost the semifinal to Metković. After that, he never dared to assert himself again. Gobac knew exactly what was happening, but he loved having a puppet like him because he could do whatever he pleased. A year later, Gobac appoints him as the national team coach. Since he knows what an amateur he is, he puts Pipeta as his assistant and Baška in to do all the heavy lifting. Along with Danijel Jurišić, the conditioning coach, they handle the bulk of the work for the World Championship in Portugal. We lose the opening match against Argentina, and in the second one, we’re trailing behind Arap for the entire first half. While we’re waiting in the locker room at halftime, Lino is out there crying about how much of a disgrace we are and how we’re going to have to crawl back home to America. Gobac and Baško basically tell him to shove it, burst into the locker room, and Pipeta and Baško hold a meeting to switch to a 6-0 zone. We come out, win the game, and after that, we play better and eventually grab the gold. After Portugal, Lino’s ego went through the roof because the media started giving the credit to Pipeta and the rest of the staff. He became allergic to Pipeta. You could see the relationship fracturing during the prep for Athens and throughout the Olympics. After Athens, the whole thing imploded. We still managed to snag silver in Tunis, but that was largely thanks to Ivan and the fact that Gobac pulled some strings with the referees in certain matches—not just for us, but for our competitors too. And so, Lino became the most decorated coach in history. Before all this, he was somewhat normal; now, he acts like he invented handball, and nobody else knows a thing about the sport. The truth is quite different. He was lucky to inherit a squad that was already a cohesive unit—basically a mix of the Metković core and some others—where the tactics were actually being handled by others while the talent was still there, and he had Ivan, who could single-handedly carry the game and set up everyone else. At the last World Championship in Germany, we weren't even the strongest team on paper. They were told to lose to the Spaniards so we'd drop into an easier group, ensuring our fans had tickets, the refs were in our favor, and we’d meet the Germans in the final. When Ivan told him at halftime that we shouldn't embarrass ourselves because we could beat anyone, Lino didn't push back; he just wanted to go down in history as the coach who never lost a game at the World Championships. Prep for the match against France was a disaster. Instead of watching film on France's best plays, we were stuck watching a game where they blew a ten-point lead and looked ridiculous. France keeps beating us with the same two plays they used to dismantle us in Switzerland, and we end up finishing without a medal. This national team won a lot, but they could have achieved so much more if they had been led by a real expert. It all comes down to the individual brilliance of Ivan and the others. During training, Ivan does whatever he wants, acting like a sheriff and deciding who makes the roster and who doesn't. The most important thing for the players who aren't sure of their spot is to just throw Ivan under the bus. Goluža should have been Pipeta's replacement, because Lino always needs a "policeman" to enforce discipline, whereas he likes to play the "good dad." But Keta was the target of ridicule by the old guard from Atlanta, and our generation didn't even give him 5% of the grief; despite having more medals than anyone, he played two great games in his life and spent the rest of his career basically acting as a water boy. Besides, he hasn't really got much tactical schooling and can barely string two coherent sentences together. However, he joined the Republican Party just like Jović and Lino, and he’s been Gobac’s loyalist all these years, which is why he was kept around in both the club and the national team. So, picking Goluža is a joke. After the loss to France, Gobac actually snapped at the stands, saying he was sick of Lino and was going to kick him out. But that very same evening, he got a call from a high-ranking official in the Republican Party telling him not to mess with Lino because they needed to keep him steady until the elections. By the next day, Gobac had quieted down and claimed he never said such a thing. He also allegedly mentioned in a social circle in Zadar this summer that he’d love to kick Lino in the ass, but that he’s the only man who can't touch him because he's too deeply entangled with Sanader and can't move against him right now. That’s the short version of the national team saga; I could write a whole book, but this is plenty. Now, a little about THW Kiel and what's been happening since last year. Last year, we started training with Cervar, and it was a catastrophe. We struggled just to show up to training and listen to his demagoguery—his constant preaching about how we were losers, how he was a world-class Olympic champion, how he created us, and how we simply couldn't grasp his vision. Yet, he never actually explained or demonstrated anything. He’d barely show up to practice, or he’d vanish entirely, acting like he was God. At the start of the league, we barely scraped a win against Osijek at home. He probably realized then that it would be wise to step down, judging by the fact that he saw this squad wouldn't achieve anything and he'd embarrass himself in the Champions League group stage. So, he and Gobac reached an agreement: he’d step aside until the club could assemble a proper team. There wasn't much of a choice for coaches at the time. We had the older Kljaić and Smajlagić available. Pipeta wasn't an option because of Lino and because he’d crossed Gobac over a contract issue, and the elder Kljun was too dangerous to hire—if he made something happen with this squad, it would be impossible to get rid of him because of his charisma and track record. So, they decided to go with Nenek. He was financially independent of the handball world, and they knew he understood the game from his playing days. They figured if he did well, great; if he failed, they could easily shut him up because his tongue moves faster than his brain. If he succeeded, it would be easy to convince him to retire by citing "business obligations." And so, he took over just ten days before our first match against Flensburg. I knew him back in our playing days, both as teammates and opponents, and I held him in very high regard. After nearly a year, I still hold that same view of him as a coach, an expert, and a man with his own sense of self. In a very short time, he managed to organize our defense and explain exactly how we need to play offensively against different teams. We actually started enjoying coming to practice. He was strict and didn't go easy on anyone, but once training was over, he was the first one ready to hang out and joke around. He turned us into a real team.