When Szeleczki Szabina was asked if she realises she’s now U23 European Champion, she hesitates for a heartbeat, her face breaking into a shy smile. “I suppose so,” she says quietly, almost laughing at the thought. “It still feels unreal.”
On the 31 October, at just 20 years old, Szabina has conquered Europe in the -48kg category, yet her victory feels less like a celebration of dominance and more like a moment of fragile rediscovery, of herself, her confidence, and the simple joy of doing what she loves.
“This year has been such a mess,” she admits, exhaling deeply. “Nothing went the way I planned. Yes, the senior world championships was incredible, being there, showing what I can do, feeling part of it all, but otherwise it’s been chaos.” Her voice wavers between pride and disbelief. “And now… to finish the season as U23 European Champion? It’s unbelievable.”
She’s still officially a junior, though this triumph launches her into another world. “My junior year didn’t go how I wanted,” she says frankly. “At the junior worlds, I lost again to that Turkish girl [Zilan Ertem]. She has been around since I was little, cadet, always ‘in my way’. I only ever managed to win against her once prior because she got disqualified. But here… here, I finally did it.”
Then, with a soft laugh, she adds: “I really gave everything. I wanted to enjoy this day. I heard my teammate, Anna’s voice from the stands throughout the day and it pushed me to keep going. Also, my coach Peter was right beside me the whole day… it just felt right.”
The Quiet Battle Within
For Szeleczki, this wasn’t simply a fight against opponents, it was a fight against her own mind. “I tend to overthink everything,” she admits. “Even at the judogi control, my coach told me: don’t overthink, just do your thing.”
She pauses, thoughtful. “I think your biggest opponent is always yourself. I feel more pressure in my own age group, because that’s where the expectations are, mostly my own. When I fight among seniors, it’s different. There’s freedom. No one expects anything; it’s just me and the tatami, enjoying what I love.”
That shift, from anxiety to focus, became her salvation. “I didn’t look for results here. I just wanted to feel good on the mat. To do judo. To be myself again.”
The Turkish Rival
Szeleczki talks about the contest against Zilan Ertem as the highlight of her day and as she speaks about her long-time rival, her eyes light up with a strange mix of tension and fondness. “She is so good,” she says of Ertem. “She has been ‘haunting me’ for years,” she laughs. “Before our fight today, I told my coach, ‘I keep meeting her at every competitions for a reason, there is something I need to learn from facing her.’”
“And then, something changed.” she says. “I looked up at the lights and said to myself: all that energy is flowing into me. Szabina, you can do this. You have thrown her before at training camps. You know how to do it.”
What happened next was pure instinct. “It just came, the timing, the feeling. I didn’t think, I just felt. I threw her.”
Eight Seconds to Redemption
The motion continued. Eight seconds. That’s all it took for Szeleczki to win her final contest. “When I realised how fast it happened, I was stunned. I looked around and Peter was standing, I thought, ‘please don’t take it away or change the score’ but it was an ippon. It really was.”
She laughs, still incredulous. “I didn’t even know what to do. I just wanted to call my mum.”
That moment, brief and explosive, carried the weight of an entire year of doubt. “I needed this so much,” she says softly. “This year was awful. I even started doubting whether I belonged here at all. I told my coach ‘what am I even doing?’ I was ready to give up on myself.”
She wipes her tears, her eyes glisten, and she smiles again. “But something changed. Maybe it came from above, maybe it was already in me. When we walked into the arena, I told my coach, ‘do you feel this energy?’ He laughed but I was buzzing. I could feel it, I really could.”
Becoming U23 European Champion isn’t just a line in a record book for the young Hungarian judoka, it’s proof of survival, of learning to trust herself again after a storm of self-doubt. “I just wanted to feel good on the tatami,” she repeats. Somewhere between failure and faith, fear and instinct, she did it.
Author: Szandra Szogedi