The stands of the European Judo Championships Kata 2025 in Riga were full of applause, admiration, and the occasional tear. Meanwhile, off the tatami, beyond the polished performances and gleaming medals, a quieter, more powerful story was noticed, not only about a judoka, but about the woman who helped him find his path to the sport and to himself.
Tatjana, mother of Erik Cheli from Italy, speaks softly and openly about her son’s journey, as well as hers. Erik, who lives in the Ravenna province near Bologna, was not always a judoka. In fact, he began in swimming, until hearing complications left him deaf in his right ear and forced a change in direction. Tatjana, a fitness instructor with a deep appreciation for sport, didn’t hesitate when searching for an alternative.
“I always loved judo,” she says with a quiet smile. “It’s my favourite sport. Not just because of the physical side, which is wonderful but because of its spirit. The ethics, the balance, the harmony… all of it.”
Erik was introduced to Kata through his teacher and now Uke, Mauro Collini, and his assistant, Tommaso Rondinini. Their connection was instant. “They understood each other from the beginning,” Tatjana says. “There was something special between them, a language beyond words.”
Though he tried Shiai, Erik was apprehensive about the physicality but when he saw his coaches demonstrating Kata with weapons, something clicked. “He saw the blades, the movement, and said, ‘I want to try that!’” she laughs. “We didn’t expect him to take to it as he did but he’s surprised us all.”
Now Erik trains in several Kata and represented Italy in the adapted judo programme in Riga. Yet, his story, and his impact, stretches far beyond medals. Erik has Down syndrome, a diagnosis Tatjana received only after he was born.
“It was a shock. I was 29, living in Italy with all my family back in Croatia. I was completely alone. I didn’t know anything about the syndrome,” she says. Her voice wavers for a moment. “But then I met other parents, saw other children a few years ahead and I realised, it’s okay. He can have a good life.”
And he does. Erik is now finishing school and training to become a pizzaiolo (a pizza chef) a dream job he is eager to pursue. Yet the transformation judo has sparked in him is deeper than routine or career. “He’s changed so much. He’s confident now. He believes in himself. He’s part of something.”
Tatjana speaks about the dojo, A.S.D. Judo Club Kodokan Brisighella, as though it’s an extension of her home. “The ethics of judo are lived every day there. It’s like a family. Erik has real friends now, they travel together, train together. They belong to each other. It’s changed everything.”
She’s witnessed the shift not only in Erik but in herself. As her son blossomed on the tatami, so too did she, helping with physical preparation at the club, drawing on her own athletic background. “I tried judo myself, but at later stage,” she admits. “When I was little, my mother never let me. I wanted to do karate but she pulled me out. So this…, this is my second chance too.”
When asked what judo has given her as a mother, Tatjana doesn’t answer straight away. Instead, she breathes in, her voice softening under emotion. “It changed me,” she says finally. “I’m not the same person anymore. It made me better. Stronger. Softer. It gave me purpose.”
There’s a pause, a shared silence. “Yes,” she repeats, more firmly this time. “All for the best.” As Erik continues to take steps forward on the mat and in life, Tatjana is right there behind him. Not pushing, not pulling. Just there. As mothers so often are.
Author: Szandra Szogedi