A story about how important and beneficial it is to do sports. From the stories of Vasilić's technique. 80s of the last century.

Once in the squadron to us got to serve a guy, from those who had to have time to pay all the debt to the Motherland in two years. After the institute with the military department, in general, the “coyote”, for those who understand. But he came to serve heavily after the institute, having twenty-eight years behind him, a wife, two restless children, and a stable life and work in Moscow.
Why then exploded his military commando, it will remain a mystery for those who need these mysteries.
He graduated from Moscow Energy, worked with us as the head of the aviation equipment group. (I remember now how he lied that a beginner singer who could kiss the sand was studying with him.) Next is more interesting.
His height was two meters, and a few more centimeters. But it didn’t seem long, it just seemed huge. Because there was a center and a half. And all of them were placed fairly evenly below the head. In the 1990s, they said about them, “Brother quadratic.” How he was chosen is a separate story.
The locals, whose average height did not exceed two dead camels, ran with horror as he went to the desert for half a scorpion for souvenirs in his free minute. And most importantly, he always said that at the time of his vocation, he played rugby in the top league. The name of the team was Phil, if I remember correctly. And when he entered the storytelling rage, you could even hear that he went to the army exactly in the break between the times. That’s why they fooled it all.
And what is rugby, I did not specifically explain. It wasn’t shown on television either. Only then said the clever castle of the comesque, guys, don't worry, there is such a game, it's like our handball, but a lot of fun, all the loops on the football field roll, the gates there are right, and the ball is uneven.
But it was a fairy tale. Now the history.
Somehow we had to urgently marry one of our heroes with a local beauty. I ordered a restaurant at the best hotel in the city. Then the soldiers normally got, they could afford. And in order to balance the bride's numerous family, the whole free squadron was summoned to this shabbas. All those who did not go on a business trip, who are not on duty, and somewhere else in business, in general, a few people.
In the restaurant we took a separate room, in the middle of which there was a solid table of eighty people, with a decent meal, and already sitting behind it some unsympathetic people. I almost immediately, from the second round, managed to land on a geographically successful place, so that I could see no one but the vodka pyramid of Cheops.
Our rugby attacker has arrived. Before the beginning, he stood with the locals at the entrance for a long time, had something there with them, melted, and when he sat next to me, suddenly stated: "You know, they have such a tradition here, you must definitely have the bride's shoe folded, otherwise, think, the wedding failed."
I honestly listened to him in my ears, because it wasn’t long ago. I started drinking a lot and often. Our combat squadron, which could, if convenient, drink an entire aircraft of alcohol, hardly had time for these former nomads. We greeted, gave and drank again. A regular wedding, it seemed, would be, but my tireless neighbor with every drink he drank more and more, knocked something under his nose, and slowly slipped off the chair. Then suddenly he said clearly, “It’s time,” and submerged under the counter.
Our detachment, of course, did not notice the losses of a fighter, fighters and without him was enough. They drank one more, as suddenly the bride just kissed by the bridegroom whispered, and also all went under the table. Further, all the women at the table began to whisper in a row, someone shouted, "They are stealing the shoe," and the bride's male relatives quickly jumped and grouped at the exit of the hall. At that point, it was hard enough for me to realize that it was the elected people who had to stand up to the terrible deceit.
The monster came out of the table. He swallowed everyone in the air with white female shoes, then with a smooth movement he drove it under his mouse, and leaned forward, with some beastly rift ran to the exit. And he didn’t run straight, but with some subversions. He ran so that half of the guests, concentrated in the door, immediately decided that they had come here in vain, and the other half just rushed out. After a second, a vivid hurricane passed through, pushing the most uncomfortable, and even at the same time, not very breaking the open doors on our side.
When the crowd of excited guests reached my corner, I fell out after all the others to vent out into the street, and there I saw our terminal run in front of the hotel on flowers, a man riding six guests, holding in front of him on the stretched hand this shoe like an Olympic torch.
It was interesting to watch. We knocked and walked. He sometimes stopped, threw his shoe in front of him, waited for the guests to break away from him and run to him, again shouted, threw himself into that pile and fought with them there, in an unfair fight. It was seen with the naked eye that the pleasure of this show is only our man.
But it all ended well, when they were tired and smashed enough, everyone returned to the table. We brought shoes from the street. Then I remember someone trying to drink vodka from her, already quite hollow. And the bride complained all night that she was not going to go on a wedding trip, and then our good Gulliver gave her his shoes in size forty-seven for happiness.