Igor Zhabchenko: “I was close to the main team of Dynamo, but an ankle fracture knocked me off course”

Kyiv Dynamo graduate Igor Zhabchenko shared his memories of his playing career.

Igor Zhabchenko

— Let’s move on to football. You are a graduate of Kyiv Dynamo. But you never played for the main team, except for a few matches in the USSR Football Federation Cup. Why?

— I spent three years with the reserve team, from 1985 to 1988. Among us were, unfortunately, the late Misha Stelmakh, Igor Korneets, Sergey Yuran, Sergey Pogodin, Volodya Bedny, Sergey Shmatovalenko. Next to us, they began to introduce players born in 1970, world youth champions — Yuri Moroz and Nikolai Rusin. Our team was simply explosive. And I constantly felt the support of Anatoly Puzach, who helped Lobanovsky with the main team. I was close to the main squad, but an ankle fracture knocked me off course.

— How did it happen?

— During training. At that time, guys born in 1966, like Oleg Derevinsky and Rusik Kolokolov, went to the Spartakiad. The team was supplemented with guys from the farm club in Irpen. Among them was Yura Bakalov. He broke my fibula while trying to prevent me from going past him after I passed the ball while running. And you should remember what kind of medicine it was back then. They put a cast on my entire leg. I suffered in that state for three months, and when I began to recover, something just didn’t work out.

— You didn’t hold a grudge against Bakalov?

— No, of course not. It was unintentional.

— Did you talk to Lobanovsky personally?

— Yes. It was a funny story. We were on training camps in Uzhhorod. Before the end, when we were supposed to leave by train the next morning, I went out for a walk with Sergey Pogodin. We didn’t return until lights out. When we arrived, Viktor Kolotov and Mikhail Koman were waiting for us. The next morning, I went to Lobanovsky. “Igor, you don’t sleep at home? In the army!”, he said.

And that’s how it happened. They sent us to a military unit for two weeks on Lesya Ukrainka Street. We did the dishes there and did other menial work. I could still cope, but Pogodin has a soft character. He couldn’t take it anymore and called Kolotov: “Mikhailych, take us away from here!” And they took us. They felt sorry for us.

— When did you realize that you wouldn’t make it at Dynamo?

— When my contract ended in 1988 and they sent me to Belytsir's Dynamo. The coach there was Alexander Pilipenko. In fact, he was a businessman, but at that time he was trying to coach. Later, Alexander realized that it wasn't for him, became a successful businessman, and was the president of the “System-Borex” club. We’ve kept in touch since then, since the late 80s.

But for some reason, he didn’t include me in the squad in Belytsir. In the end, I gave up and went to an amateur team in Lubny in Poltava region. We gathered a great team there, and five to six thousand people came to all matches. Actually, it was while playing for “Sula” among physical culture teams that I began to believe in myself.

— You returned to the professional, or as it was then called, master level quite quickly.

— With “Sula,” we didn’t lose a single match, reached the final “pool” of the amateur championship. From there, in 1990, Anatoly Konkov took me to St. Petersburg’s “Zenit,” which had just been relegated to the first league. Dmitrievich had the task of returning the team to the top league. Besides me, Konkov invited other Ukrainians, Vova Horily and Oleg Smolyanynov. I was the youngest among them. And I honestly didn’t fit in St. Petersburg. I felt miserable there. Not long before that, I got married, my beloved remained in Kyiv, and we had already had a child. At one point, I packed my things, threw my bag out the window at the base, went down, grabbed my stuff, hopped over the fence, and went to Kyiv. I took the train for two days. And I immediately returned to “Sula.”

— Wait, you ended up at “Kremen” then.

— Not right away. For a long time, Petr Skrilnik, the head of the Kremen club, was driving behind me. Finally, he arrived in a minibus, loaded all my things, put me, my wife, my daughter, and my mother-in-law in the cab, and we went to Kremen. They immediately gave me a two-room apartment and created all conditions for me to play football and not think about anything. What else does a 21-year-old guy need? And it was interesting to play. “Kremen” was then performing in the transition zone of the USSR championship. We played against teams from Ukraine, Russia, Moldova, Belarus, Armenia, and Azerbaijan.

— Back then, there were no broadcasts of matches from Kremen in all-Ukrainian airwaves. So “Kremen” during Streltsov's time is remembered primarily for participating in a match against “Dynamo,” when the Kyiv team won in the last round and clinched the first title in history as champions of Ukraine. There are various rumors about that game. It is said that opponents agreed with “Kremen” or its separate players...

— Stop it. “Dynamo” was head and shoulders above us then. By the way, before that match, Grigory Bibergal called me, the vice-president of “Chornomorets.” He said he would come to Kremen and bring money that he would pay us if we could beat “Dynamo.” The Odessans could get into the European Cup if the Kyiv team failed. Grigory Efimovich really brought the money, and as captain, I informed the whole team; we went out on the field very motivated. But “Dynamo” was on a roll then, and we had nothing to counter them. Later, it turned out that Bibergal came not so much for that match as to take me to “Chornomorets.”

— Did you agree right away?

— I packed my bags and went to Odessa with my wife and Grigory Efimovich. They immediately gave me a two-room apartment, and everything suited me. I had already started training with “Chornomorets” when a day before leaving for the first training camp in Finland, Petr Skrilnik called. “Igor, we’re giving you a five-room apartment, a salary higher than in ‘Chornomorets,’ just come back,” he said.

— What amounts were being mentioned back then?
— I can’t tell you, honestly. Not because I don’t want to, but because we were taking money by the sack back then. Literally. Those were the times when coupons were in circulation, the equivalent of which was measured in millions... So, then I listened to Skrilnik, got in the car, and drove. But not straight to Kremen, but to Kyiv, to my parents. My now-deceased mother said: “You have a call. From Kharkiv.” In the case of the transition to “Metalist,” they promised a three-room apartment, a car, and bonuses. So, my wife and I got in the car and went to Kharkiv. There we immediately agreed on everything, I got the bonuses, and set off for Kremen with them. Skrilnik, as soon as he saw me, immediately felt something was off. “I see you’ve already done something,” he said. I then told him about “Metalist.”

— You never played in Kharkiv, did you...

— All because “Chornomorets” turned out to be too persistent. Viktor Prokopenko, going to Finland with the team, gave Vladimir Ploskin a clear task: “You’re not going to the training camp. Find him wherever you want, but don’t return without Zhabchenko.” Vladimir Ivanovich later told me this himself. At that time, he started calling me. I wasn’t answering. In the end, Ploskin managed to reach Skrilnik. Petr Grigorievich told me to call back and tell everything, as it is. And I told him about “Metalist,” and about the benefits with which they tempted me. “Igor, why didn’t you say so right away? We’ll give you all this and even more in Odessa,” Ploskin said.

No questions, I went to Odessa. While the team was at training camps, I lived in a hotel, jogging in Shevchenko Park near the ChMP stadium. Upon returning, Prokopenko immediately said: “Zhabka, you know I don’t hold grudges. Let’s work.”

When in the spring of 1994 we won the Cup and bronze medals with “Chornomorets,” Prokopenko said: “You see, if you had stayed in ‘Metalist’, you wouldn’t have had anything.” By the way, we secured our medals early and received the Cup in advance. A week was left until the end of the championship. And we spent all this time hanging out. The old base of “Chornomorets” on Architect Street was buzzing. Only Semen Iosifovich (Altman — ed.) was serious about it. “We need weigh-ins, we need this, we need that,” he was constantly concerned. Until Prokopenko intervened. Before training, he lined everyone up and said: “Semen, don’t go near the base at all.” How was it with us? In one building, the footballers lived, in another one — coaches. Where the footballers were, there was chaos — alcohol, girls. Prokopenko emphasized to Altman not to appear anywhere near our building, and let the guys rest.

— In the next season, “Chornomorets” was no longer coached by Prokopenko, but by Leonid Buryak. There is a huge difference between these specialists in every sense...

— We didn’t immediately accept Leonid Iosifovich. He came with his program and principles, with loads like in Kyiv Dynamo. In summer, in the heat, these trials were especially hard. We were shocked. But gradually we got used to it. Buryak also amazed us because he was always dressed “to the nines” — a jacket, ironed trousers, shoes. He also demanded us to be neat, both in training and after them. A washing machine appeared at the base. In the end, with Buryak, we won silver medals twice in a row. This was the main criterion for the effectiveness of coaching work.

— Fans from those times remember you primarily for the match against “Dynamo” at the Republican Stadium in Kyiv in the spring of 1995, for the two goals against Shovkovsky that brought “Chornomorets” victory. At one point, it was even said that “Chornomorets” was denied the championship.

— Not at all. Although we beat “Dynamo” away and drew at home. The team of Kyiv was classy and stable. As for that match, I don’t consider it the best in my career. Yes, it was memorable because I scored twice in such a game, and even at the stadium which I consider home, but that's about it.

— You played in another memorable match. When the Ukrainian national team defeated Croatia 1:0 at the Republican Stadium with Suker, Boban, and Bokshich in the squad. They say the opponents smelled of alcohol.

— It was somewhat like that. At least the Croats looked very relaxed. They had just beaten Italy and defeated us 4:0 at home. However, I couldn't wait for that game to end. Luga (Oleg Luzhny — ed.) got injured, and I played instead of him on the right flank of defense. And against me — Robert Jarni, the left defender. How he moved, how strong he was! The first half was somewhat okay, but it was incredibly hard in the second half. I barely managed.

— The trip with the Ukrainian national team to North America in the fall of 1993, obviously, was remembered not so much for the football, but for being something unusual.

— There were incidents back then. We lived in San Diego, in a five-star hotel where the movie "We're from Jazz" was filmed. The local stadium was practically on the border with Mexico. Therefore, the match against this national team was practically away. The stands were packed — more than 50 thousand spectators. We lost to the Mexicans 1:2. We return to the hotel, and the cards that opened the doors to the rooms don’t work. It should be noted that back then we didn’t understand how to open the door with a card and not with a key. We went to the reception. When the door was opened, it turned out that we had been “cleaned out” — small bills were left, but the hundreds were taken.

Sergey Popov was the most upset, who Valery Yaremchenko (the coach of Shakhtar — ed.) had given a decent amount of money to buy something. Naturally, there was no money. The police just shrugged. However, ahead was the last match of the tour against the Americans. In the first, we won 2:1, and the hosts, who would host the World Championship a year later, really wanted to take revenge. However, the outcome of the meeting was decided by the only goal scored by Popov from almost the center of the field. After the game, Dmitry Zlobenko, president of the “Borisfen” club that sponsored this trip, rewarded Sergey with the amount that he had stolen. So, Yaremchenko did not remain empty-handed.

Ivan Verbitsky