SECOND LEAGUE When there is no system, you are left with the goalpost and a tragic fate, goodbye Bosnia!

By Rasim Belko

The scoreboard showed 59:25, the ball hit the goalpost, bounced off the goalkeeper's back and went into the net. Everything happened in two seconds. And then – as if someone pressed the reset button – the hall “Goran Čengić” at Grbavica roared: “Second league, second league!”

The fans of RK Goražde celebrated their favorites' survival in the elite tier of Bosnian-Herzegovinian handball. Modestly, but sincerely. Without ties, without slogans about “sport as a priority”, without cutting red ribbons.

But let's start from the beginning. Exactly a year and seven months ago, in the hall “Ramiz Salčin” at Mojmilo, I watched the celebration of ORK Bosna's return to the Premier League. That evening, everything smelled of romance, packed stands, singing, hugs, children in jerseys… the illusion that Sarajevo handball was rising from the dead was flickering in the air.

And then – between Mojmilo and Grbavica, although it's only a few kilometers of asphalt, a whole year of pain, sadness, and sporting misery passed. Last night, Bosna officially dropped to a level where, forgive me, they will be playing away games in Žepče and Donji Vakuf, on hall floors where the main news is not transfers but whether the heating is working and who brought burek for the delegate.

Seven-time national champion, five-time Cup winner, owner of the Yugoslav Cup from 1963, semi-finalist of the European Cup Winners' Cup in 2007… All of that is now just a historical footnote, a topic for nostalgic conversations at the hairdresser's and in pubs.

And what hurts even more is the fact that last night in “Goran Čengić” there wasn't a single mayor from Sarajevo, city councilor, cantonal prime minister, minister of sports, secretary for sports… They didn't even happen to stop by for popcorn. Sarajevo, this supposed city of sport, had no time even for a “goodbye, Bosna” last night.

Unlike them, a whole expedition came from Goražde: Mayor Ernest Imamović, Prime Minister Edin Ćulov, federal parliamentarians, presidents of local communities, a retired aunt from the Veterans' Association and a neighborhood goalkeeper from '88. All together, with the fans, they celebrated survival as if they had won the Champions Cup.

Goražde will continue to play in the Premier League. It's not what they want, but unlike Bosna – they have a chance. And Bosna? Bosna will, it seems, finally learn the old saying: he who pushes you out of the elite – you push him into the Second League.

And let it be clear, this is not fate. It is a consequence. A consequence of years of neglect, underinvestment, private interests, and meddling in clubs and federations. An occasional flash, like KK Bosna achieved this season, cannot and must not be an alibi for the systemic collapse of Sarajevo sports.

If something is not urgently changed, Sarajevo will become a city of sporting past and political promises. A city where the opening of cafes is celebrated more than sporting successes. And for sports, as for everything else, the old saying holds true: he who does not respect the past deserves the future that he saw last night at Grbavica.

Second league, friends. Second. League.