An amazing story from Russia

A short foreword:

Igor Kuznetcov, 75 years old, World War II veteran. Living in Irkutsk, Russia. Has 3 children, 5 grandsons and 2 great grandsons.

Despite his old age, Igor is still very active, helping his neighbors with plumbing and small equipment repairs. He nearly lost the ability to walk but has strong hands and sharp wit, often beating local players in chess.

* * *

Igor was falling asleep at the time when Russia scored their second goal in the match against Sweden. Judging by the screams in the adjacent apartment, he decided that his neighbors were robbed. Igor didn't have a TV to find out the good soccer news, so in panic, he dialed 911. A police patrol showed up, visited his neighbors, laughed, told Igor about the soccer match and drove away.

The old man still didn't understand what was all the noise about, and went to sleep once again. That's when the match was over and thousands of soccer fans began celebrating the victory. Crowds of people with flags filled the streets, screamed, singed, car alarms went off, bottles shattered, loud music was heard from everywhere. Soon followed explosions and gun shots.

The poor man decided that World War III began, called the police and began thinking whether he should barricade himself. Then he sat by the window and waited for police (or tanks) to arrive.

- What the hell are you talking about? Soccer? Don't fool me, that's not soccer! — screamed the old man.
- It’s Euro. Russia won against Sweden. — explained the policemen.
- So what? Why in the hell do they shoot here, in Irkutsk? People didn't celebrate like that even when Russia won against Germany, and that wasn't some lousy soccer!

- It’s probably because they didn’t have firecrackers back then.
- Nonsense, even kids had a couple of grenades in 1945!
- Go to sleep, sir. We’ve got more important calls today.

And so they leaved. Igor called the police twice more, until finally the operator thought he was pranking and blacklisted his phone. By the morning he was over-nervous and was forced to call an ambulance. The doctor gave him a shot and offered to go to the hospital.

- Damn you, said Igor. I'd rather die than go to a hospital.

He was afraid of hospitals more than of death. On the next day things cleared up and soon he recovered. Three days later, in the middle of the night, the story repeated. This time even louder. Russia won against Netherlands and the fans got mad.

Igor tried to call the police all night. Unfortunately, his phone was on the black-list so no one responded. The old man was outraged by the officials’ neglectful treatment.

On the next morning he called the police administration.

- Do you really think this can remain unpunished? How can you call yourself "police"? Can’t even put the city in order! Soccer? Lame excuse! There was a riot yesterday in the city and you just sat there doing nothing! I’ll show you some hell tomorrow, you'll see!
- That's your legal right, sir. — said the chief of police. He didn't know who he’s dealing with yet.

On the next day Igor began a real warfare. He called the city administration and managed to get to the mayor. Told him what he thinks about the police and the city administration as a whole. The local press got involved. He even tried to get to the state governor and sent a letter to the president.

In short, he organized a virtual war against the police.

- Ha! They thought I wouldn’t find a way to deal with them! — muttered the old man, writing letters to organizations of all kinds, including the local party office.

By lunch, his letter attacks reached the goal. The city mayor personally contacted the police administration and inquired on why they refused to help the old man. Chief of police called him in the evening, brought his apologies and listened to the old man’s opinion on how the police should get things done. He was very surprised by the fact that Igor doesn't watch soccer.

- Never watched it! Our team's been losing for 30 years, a shame to the country! People are losing their minds because you forgot how to work! Don’t try to blame soccer in yesterday's mess! — said the old man with satisfaction.

* * *

On the very same evening, three policemen showed up. Informed about his health and dragged a TV to his apartment.

- Here you go, sir. A present from the administration.

They’ve put it in place, connected and tuned.
- Look here, old man. Press this to turn on, press that to turn off. Press those buttons to switch channels. Got it?
- Sure I do.

- On Thursday an operator will call and tell you how to switch to soccer. Our team is in the semi-final. Playing against Spain. Understood? In the case we lose...
- What? Lose? Don’t make me laugh.
- And in the case we win... the streets would be filled more than ever. But don't call us whatever happens! That’s a warning!
- Thanks, guys! — shouted the old man and turned on the TV.

Original text by raketchik