Henk Blok, 100, says: ‘A day of not moving is a wasted day. I still go around the block every day’

Henk Blok is just like de Volkskrant 100 years. How does the former sports teacher and trainer of the Olympic men’s volleyball team look back on the years behind him. And what does he think of the current juncture?

Just behind the dunes of Kijkduin, Henk Blok lives in a street with small semi-detached bungalows with his 86-year-old wife. The former sprinter and gym teacher will go down in the sports history books as the coach of the first Olympic men’s volleyball team in the Netherlands. The beach, where he so often and loved to run, has become out of reach for him. But no matter how small his radius of action has become as a 100-year-old, he must and will go for a walk every day. Because a day without exercise is a wasted day, he thinks.

How did you celebrate your 100th birthday?

“We were supposed to go out for dinner with family and friends, but we had to cancel because of the lockdown. So I thought it would be a quiet day, but in the morning of January 4, all the neighbors from our street were standing in front of the window, they had decorated the street with flags and started to sing to me. Sixty people visited that day, family and acquaintances. They came one by one and got a cake in the garage. My wife Annet had taken care of that, who turned out to be part of the conspiracy, I knew nothing about it. A former colleague of the sports academy in The Hague where I taught had arranged a barrel organ. I received 260 postcards from former students and colleagues, full of anecdotes.’

What did your students write about you?

‘That, on reflection, they have benefited a lot from the discipline I taught them in their careers.’

Were you a strict teacher?

‘Some thought I was strict, others didn’t. It was said that I could perform well and have my say. Rules and discipline were indeed important to me. If a student was late to class, I would say, “You’re not welcome anymore, there’s the hole in the door.” If you’re going to do something, you should do it well and seriously, I think. That will pay for itself later on.’

Did you have a strict upbringing?

‘Yes, I come from a strict, very Reformed family. You take on many things that were important to your parents. Discipline was one of them. I was in the boat and sailed along, I felt comfortable with that. I remember my parents fondly. My father was quite strict. On Sundays, when we went for a walk and passed a tennis court where I wanted to stop to watch the game, he’d say, keep going! Playing sports on Sunday and watching it was a mortal sin. On his deathbed he apologized for this: ‘Henk, excuse me, I thought it had to be this way.’ I replied something like, “That’s all right, father, just surrender, you can die in peace.”

Yet you became a sports teacher and amateur athlete.

‘My parents allowed me to go to a Christian gymnastics club. I noticed that sports was very important to me and that is why, after high school, I went to Halo, the academy for physical education in The Hague, to be trained as a sports teacher. After graduating, I was allowed to stay to become a teacher. I worked there until 1986, in addition to jobs as a sports teacher at secondary schools and Nyenrode. In my spare time I did athletics. I was good in the 100m sprint and long jump. My fastest time was 11.04 and I could jump more than six meters. I took part in national competitions.’

So I’m sitting opposite a former top athlete?

‘We can safely say that, not a word is exaggerated.’

Just after the war, how did you come up with the idea of ​​founding one of the first women’s volleyball teams in the Netherlands?

‘Volleyball was not practiced in the Netherlands until 1945. American soldiers had left nets and balls behind, so I thought let’s give it a try. I started making rules. At the Celebes athletics association in The Hague, where I played sports and taught, I set up a volleyball team for women. We became national champions a few times and then in 1949 I was asked to become coach and trainer of the national team, with which we went to the European Championship in Prague, which was then still in the Eastern Bloc. Because of these successes I was also allowed to train for the national men’s team. After an exciting match against Italy, we became champions of Western Europe and we were allowed to go to the Olympic Games in Tokyo in 1964. Volleyball was an Olympic sport there for the first time.’

What memories do you have of the Tokyo Games?

‘I especially remember that Japan was a revelation. It was a mysterious country of which you knew little. I only knew the stories about how mean the Japanese had been during World War II in the Dutch East Indies. But the Japanese I met in Tokyo in 1964 were very different: personable and helpful. If you needed help, they were happy to lend you a hand. We each got our own geisha in a kimono. She said good morning to you when you woke up and made your bed. We finished eighth at the Games with the volleyball team.’

What do you think of some countries’ diplomatic boycott of the upcoming Winter Olympics in China?

‘The way China is dealing with the Uyghurs is not good. But politics doesn’t have much to do with sports, the two should be kept separate. The Olympic Games were once conceived to bring peoples together. It would be nice if that were possible, although world peace now seems far away.’

What is it like for an old top athlete who is no longer able to exercise fanatically?

‘You slowly become dependent on others. I don’t want to be a burden to people, even if I prefer not to use that word. I have trouble keeping my balance, so when I walk I have to bring the center of gravity forward or else I fall backwards. That’s why I’m going down stairs backwards.

‘I have practiced many sports for a long time, besides athletics also volleyball, windsurfing and skiing. I often went for a run here on the beach. Until over a year ago I still played golf every week. I stopped when we had to wear masks, then I lost the enthusiasm. But I’m still moving every day. Because a day not moving is a day wasted. Every day I go for a walk around the block, unless it rains, then I take the treadmill. But walking outside, preferably in nature, is my preference. That makes me happy; I look at the birds and everything that grows and then I feel one with nature. Walking is the most important of all sports, it is our natural movement.’

What does your average day look like?

‘Of course it starts with you waking up and at some point you decide: now I’m going to get out of bed. Then I walk around here to arrange things, such as opening the curtains and taking medication. Then such a day continues. So in the morning I go for a walk and in the afternoon I often read, I just started in the book Made in Europe by Pieter Steinz. I prefer to sit by the window, then I can watch the birds in the garden. In the morning the seagulls move inland from the sea and in the evening I see them flying back again. You can see they are having fun. Often I am also looking out for myself. Then my wife asks: did you fall asleep? No, I say, I’m dreaming away.’

What do you see in your daydreams?

‘I see my parents. And my children and grandchildren. I follow them in what they do. Those are just pleasant images, because they all do it very well. During my daydreams I often think back to my grandmother, a special and sweet woman, as it is called: a real mother to her children and grandchildren. She was from Zeeland and drowned in the flood disaster in 1953, aged 85. When the water flooded into her house in Kruiningen, she wanted to climb the stairs in the hallway to get herself to safety upstairs. But the pressure of the water prevented her from opening the door to the stairs. And so she drowned in the hallway. How she must have suffered. My aunt, who lived upstairs, survived.

‘My father called me the next day and said we had to go to Kruiningen because he had been asked to identify his mother. We drove there together in the car. When I got there my father said: don’t go inside because this is not fun. He wanted to save me a difficult moment, but I still regret not going in with him. Then I could have said goodbye to my grandmother and I think I could have coped better with her death. Her death by drowning still grips me, I still often grieve about it, such a sweet woman.’

After a short silence:

‘When they ask me if I want to live longer than 100 years, I say: it depends on what life offers me. I would like to continue for a while for my children and grandchildren. As long as my wife is as she is, as strong and vital as now, I am happy. My family is the cork on which I float.’