AS Saint-Etienne : EXCLUDED GOAL! : Rocher, Herbin, the epic, the historical doctor of the Greens tells | ASSE News

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“It was at the age of 23 that I began my medical studies. Seven years later, in 1970, I was finally a doctor and I settled in Chazelles-sur-Lyon in the Loire. General medicine was my reason for living, until the day when I decided to enroll in a little-known specialty which was “functional rehabilitation and rehabilitation medicine.” Its practice required three years of training in a hospital in Lyon, with a national final exam in Paris, which I passed with happiness and pride.

Without a doubt, fate had become favorable to me because one day I received an invitation to an “open house”, in a surgical clinic in Saint-Etienne. Surgeons Charles Picault and Jean-Claude Imbert were then looking for a rehabilitation doctor and eight days after my visit, I received a part-time job offer. On October 1, 1976, I therefore left general medicine to practice my specialty in this clinic full time.

To orient my skills towards clinical sports pathologies, I decided afterwards to obtain new diplomas while continuing to work at the clinic. I enrolled in sports medicine capacity, in Lyon, then there were other diplomas such as vertebrotherapy and sports trauma. Continuous training and field practice have gradually led me to be competent in pathologies of the locomotive apparatus of the athlete. My experience in general medicine was also very useful.

It is this same fate that propels me on October 1, 1977 to the Geoffroy Guichard stadium. Without knowing anything in the world of football, with all background, some diplomas and experience in general medicine. The doctor that I am has a “filthy” ignorance, therefore scandalous, for all that relates to the professional environment and amateur of the round ball. In Saint-Etienne, you can imagine … What did I come to do in this glorious club? Why did I accept President Roger Rocher’s proposal, whom I absolutely did not know – any more than anyone touching this prestigious club directly or indirectly? By what miracle did I stay thirty-one years in this planet so far removed from my culture and my professional occupations? Finally, how did this milieu accept me when my arrival was marked by contemptuous hostility? I was obviously not on the same land as them.

“A few weeks later, my secretary appeared all moved in my office to tell me that Mr. Roger Rocher wanted to talk to me on the phone. Seeing his serious expression, I assumed that he was an important character. A loud voice. vibrated the earpiece saying: “It’s Roger Rocher” … “Yes. Hello sir…”

To come back to President Roger Rocher, we have to go back to 1976, a few months before my arrival at the stadium. I was then practicing my specialty in an orthopedic surgical clinic in Saint-Etienne as a temporary employee. Most of my time was spent in general medicine. I crisscrossed the streets of Chazelles-sur-Lyon and its surrounding country lanes. One morning, I was going to work at the clinic when I saw a dog resembling Tintin’s Snowy which was trotting on the bridge of the expressway next to the clinic. This animal wore a green coat with ease. Intrigued, I immediately spoke to my secretary, who with a look full of reproaches, told me that it was a mascot of the Green team! It was apparently obvious …

A few weeks later, my secretary came into my office quite moved to tell me that Mr. Roger Rocher wanted to talk to me on the phone. Seeing his serious demeanor, I assumed he was an important character. A loud voice vibrated the earpiece saying:
“It’s Roger Rocher” … “Yes. Hello sir?”

“I need a doctor like you to follow the professionals and the Geoffroy Guichard training center. Are you interested?” Curious to know the reasons which provoked this proposal, I explained to him that an exclusivity contract already bound me to my employer and that I could not practice elsewhere than at the clinic. “I’ll make it my business,” he said, slamming the receiver furiously. End of the conversation.

But who is this character? My secretary then told me about the exploits of the Greens team in 1976 and about its mythical characters: Roger Rocher, Robert Herbin and Pierre Garonnaire, shrouded in the benevolent light of Jean Snella.
The same day, all of the clinic’s employees learned that Roger Rocher had telephoned the new doctor, I quickly met questioning looks and, for some, marked with perplexity. Intrigued, I was too, nothing more, and I forgot the incident.

A week after this first contact, Roger Rocher informed me, without further explanation, that my employer gave a favorable opinion to this new additional function at ASSE. The Administrative Director of the Greens having wanted me to take up my duties at the club without delay, an arrangement was made between the Club and my employer … without me being notified! As far as I’m concerned, I haven’t seen any change on my payroll …

“Robert Herbin greeted me with lip service without shaking my hand. Only Pierre Repellini entered my office. He welcomed me. He spoke to me about his little problems in a jovial tone and he climbed several times on the big tired and destitute seesaw in front of me. “

Intrigued and amused by the turn of events, I agreed to play along. However, questions could not be answered, in particular this one: on what medical and possibly sporting criteria the choice of Roger Rocher had been decided for ask me?
My attraction to the sport came down to caving, middle distance running and archery. I didn’t know anything about football and ASSE! My skills ended in general medicine and medical orthopedics. At the beginning of November 1977, Roger Rocher introduced me to all the sporting and technical staff of ASSE in the salons of Geoffroy-Guichard. I learned that the president held me in great esteem and that he wanted to let it be known. His praise did not reassure me, however. He also had to justify his decision to replace my colleague predecessor, Doctor Poty, employee of the club, sports doctor, highly publicized and very politically committed This well-known and esteemed doctor would therefore be replaced by an unknown very recently from Saint-Etienne? Unthinkable!

The introductions were quick and the players not very curious about where I was coming from. Maybe the prospect of a restorative lunch (it was 12:30 pm) after a solid workout explained their lack of curiosity? It suited me well.
I walked out of this meeting puzzled, but not impressed. I was going, in a way, to treat high-level professional athletes, football stars, in general in good health. I, who spent my life detecting diseases of all kinds and all seriousness … Like all the doctors of my time, I was trained exclusively in the knowledge of diseases and their sufferings. My professional reason was to get the sick back on their feet, to treat them and, sometimes, to cure them. We weren’t talking about prevention, it was outside the Social Security agreement, to my knowledge.

In mid-November 1977 I entered the Holy of Holies of the club. That is to say in the changing rooms and treatment rooms. It was impressive in terms of modernity: sauna, swimming pools, whirlpools, massage room and other ultramodern equipment for the time. My office, on the other hand, was far from resembling a consulting room: repulsive dirt, various rubbish, the smell of a stable, cupboards with smashed doors. No medical records. The needy medical equipment could not even have been used by Doctor Schweitzer in Lambaréné! I quickly understood that the doctor was the poor relation, very poor of the health system of a prestigious club. So, I made the bet to resist this embezzlement, because it was one, at least until the end of the season.
I cleared the rubble myself, repaired the examination table and patched up the desk and the toxic product closet. I asked the cleaners to do the cleaning from top to bottom. I brought my personal medical equipment and came over the next few days to discreetly rub shoulders with the players and the coach.
Some greeted me, others pointedly ignored. Robert Herbin greeted me with lip service without shaking my hand. Only Pierre Repellini entered my office. He welcomed me. He spoke to me about his little problems in a jovial tone and he climbed several times on the big tired and destitute seesaw in front of me. His galéjades gave me a little sun.
It was the only warm contact that was granted to me. I am still grateful to Pierre Repellini for this. Imperceptibly, the injured players came to consult me ​​directly, of their own accord; with rigor and determination. I immediately informed Robert Herbin of my diagnosis and prognosis. But I had no questions or comments from him. Only the physiotherapists had the privilege of informing the coach and answering his questions. Silent hostility is torture or even an insult to me, and if there was a problem, I was solely responsible before the law. My predecessor had many friends in the locker room and in particular Herbin. I understood, finally, in what trap I had gotten myself …