The rain bucketed down nonstop for the next two days straight. I walked past the Matryoshka, but I didn't run into anyone from the team or any of our supporters. The footpath was damp, the chairs were tipped up against the tables and there were hardly any customers inside.

I was going to the Thursday training as usual. Surely things would turn around and go back to the way they were. I imagined Felik and Grigor cruising in their Bentley with their cool shades. Felik would crack a few jokes and Grigor would make some great speech and the Rejects would be high spirited again.

When I arrived at the...