NEW DELHI: There are tools on the table, pieces of wood on the floor, and pistol grips in various stages of modification. Some tools hang around the room. His T-shirt and eyelashes are covered with wooden husk. A few used coffee mugs are lying around.Two cats wander in and out.This is Yury Lisichko’s workshop in Greater Noida, where Indian shooters arrive with a problem that can be difficult to explain and even harder to fix: the grip of their pistol does not feel right.Lisichko looks at the weapon, studies the shooter’s hand and wrist, examines the existing grip and starts working on it. The shooter then takes the pistol into another room and aims at a target.A few shots are followed by more adjustments, and then more shot follow. The process continues until Lisichko is satisfied with the grip and the shooter is comfortable with it.
Yury Lisichko (Image credit: Timesofindia.com)
“I know the mentality of every shooter. I speak to them for one or two minutes… that’s it. I get the problem. Now, I tell them to be seated until I am done. They wait, I work and when I am ready I give them targets to shoot. First, I need to be satisfied and then them. I make grips with a fresh piece of wood. I don’t use old wood or just paste and give them. I want these shooters to do well,” Lisichko told TimesofIndia.com in an exclusive interview.Shooters have been coming to him for years. Anish Bhanwala, Jitu Rai, Manu Bhaker and Sarabjot Singh are among those he has worked with. juniors, seniors, and international shooters all come, even during major competitions, and the door remains open.“Anish [Bhanwala] came to me just ahead of the Asian Games. He spent the entire day here. When the solution didn’t come, he decided to stay here to avoid much travel. Many Commonwealth Games and Asian Games shooters came to me. Shooters come here, stay too. They order their food and play with my cats. All I tell them is, ‘Don’t disturb me,'” Lisichko said.
Yury Lisichko (Image credit: TimesofIndia.com)
However, Lisichko did not come to India to become a grip specialist. He arrived in 2009 as a foreign pistol shooting coach.
The 200-page CV that brought him to India
In 2007, Lisichko was involved with the European Championships in St Petersburg. After the competition, foreign coaches asked him why they had never seen him work abroad with athletes.He decided to put together a CV, that too a 200-page one containing his education, the athletes he had worked with in Russia, his achievements and other details of his career.Two years later, he got a call from India.“That was the first time when I heard Indian English. It’s absolutely not understandable. I remember that conversation. I could not understand the accent much. He disconnected the call saying, ‘Call me later with someone who speaks good English, please,” Lisichko recalled.The Indian Army wanted him to work in India. At the Indian embassy, he was shown an order from the Defence Ministry concerning the appointment of foreign coaches for the Army.
Image credit: TimesofIndia.com
He said yes. His visa was ready the next day and Lisichko landed in New Delhi, travelled to Indore and then reached Mhow – a cantonment town in Indore, Madhya Pradesh.“I had no knowledge about India. I knew this was a country with a lot of wild animals and snakes everywhere, spiders everywhere. But with time, I realised it is beautiful. I have travelled around India and met different people. Everyone is different,” he said.He started working with Army shooters, including at the Infantry School in Mhow and the Army Marksmanship Unit. He also worked with India’s junior pistol shooting setup and later with senior athletes.For the first three or four months, the accent, more than the language was a problem. Slowly, he began speaking in a similar way. Then came Hindi, Indian food, and the small exchanges that came with everyday life in the country.“Namaste. Namaskaar. Kaise ho. Theek ho. Kaha jaa rahe ho. When I go to the market, I have learnt to say, ‘Kitna hua bhaiya? Mere paise wapas do.’ I have learnt that Hindi is a very simple language. And it’s so far from techniques. It seems like the Ukrainian language. Because I am ethnically Ukrainian. But you see, my heart is with Ukraine, my brain is partly in Russia,” Lisichko said.
How the coach became the man shooters call for grips
Lisichko had studied technology at Moscow Aviation University and had experience working with wood and other materials. His work with pistol grips developed gradually.
Yury Lisichko (Image credit: TimesofIndia.com)
The first attempts did not go smoothly. “The first grip was destroyed, the second grip was destroyed. After that I made a grip with which I started to work. And began to improve my level in shooting. With time I excelled in the art of making grips,” he recalled.That work eventually became a specialised part of what he does for shooters.“I didn’t know the study in woods, experience would become a specialised craft and I will be now helping shooters in fixing grips ahead of competitions. When they win, I silently pat on my back too (laugh),” Lisichko said.There is no standard grip that can simply be transferred from one shooter to another. The same pistol can feel different in different hands.“You can buy the same rifle as Abhinav Bindra. You can buy the same pistol as Manu Bhaker or Jitu Rai or Vijay Kumar. You can buy a shooting suit the same as Bindra. Shooting boots like Bindra. You can use the same pellets, the same gloves, everything. But you can’t shoot with the same grip. Every human hand and the ability to hold something are different. So grip is something that makes a shooter uncomfortable and destroys their focus,” he said.That is why the pistol sometimes arrives at Lisichko’s workshop before it reaches the competition range. The shooter has to wait as he works on the wood, and then comes another set of shots and recalibration.
