Dariya Derkach and a gold medal full of messages

Dariya Derkach’s triple jump was far longer than the distance that secured her the European gold medal a few weeks ago. Her run-up began a long way back, in a small village in Ukraine, far from the war zone, where she spent the first nine years of her life. And with her leaps, she had to overcome a great many obstacles. The long wait to pull on the Italian national team jersey. The three operations she had to undergo to recover from her Achilles tendon injury. But Dariya is not one to give up; indeed, perseverance is one of her greatest qualities. “People keep asking me: have you realised it’s happened? The truth is, not quite yet,” she says. “It was something I’d wanted so much, not just for months but perhaps for years.”

It is a gold medal that weighs more than the centimetres measured on the sand. “It is the medal of a long journey.” It encapsulates the years spent chasing it, but above all, everything that happened when it seemed as though the body was about to take its toll. And so, above all, this gold medal has become a symbol of perseverance.

Dariya was born in Ukraine, but her sporting life – and much more besides – unfolded in Italy. She arrived here at the age of nine, bringing with her a few memories: “I remember my grandparents’ house, the river below their house, and, to some extent, the athletics stadium where my parents used to train. I practically grew up in a stadium.” Athletics, in short, was there right from the start: “My parents used to take me to the athletics stadium even when I was still in my pram. I was a real live wire as a child.” Her first home in Italy was Sant’Egidio del Monte Albino, in the province of Salerno. She didn’t speak Italian and was extremely shy. “I was even ashamed to speak. Whenever we went shopping, my parents would encourage me to ask for, say, a hundred grams of prosciutto, just to force me to use Italian.” Then two little girls who lived downstairs came into her life. “I remember them with so much love. They were the first real step in my integration. We played together every afternoon, had lunch together, had dinner together, and played Christmas bingo. They made me feel almost like part of their family.”

At school, however, it was sport that changed everything. “When people talk about sport as a means of inclusion, that’s exactly how it was for me.” At primary school in Nocera Inferiore, she was the new girl in a world where almost everyone already knew each other. “I’d go to school, do my five hours and go home.” Then came the School Sports Games. “I won two or three little races. I remember the Year 5 pupils – who seemed so grown-up to us – coming up to me and chanting: ‘Dariya, Dariya…’. It was a real ‘wow’ moment for me. From the very next day, I magically became friends with loads of people.”

However, the athletics that made her feel less like a foreigner was also the very sport that for years forced her to wait for the Italian national team jersey. “It was a long wait, but a conscious one, because we were well aware of Italian law.” As for her own identity, however, she never had many doubts. “I realise that for some people I won’t be Italian and for others I will. After I won my medal, I read all sorts of comments. Some Ukrainian websites posted the video of the victory with the flag altered, and underneath there were comments such as: ‘But what does she have to do with us? She left when she was eight.’ It’s perhaps an indefinable situation.” She, however, knows where she grew up. “I was born in Ukraine, of course, but I was very young. My entire conscious journey and my mindset have been shaped in Italy.” One need only observe her during the national anthem. “It’s the anthem I know, the one I learnt at school, the one I grew up with. I’ve always felt it was mine.” She was also very Italian at mealtimes, at least as a child: pizza and mozzarella. “Fortunately, as a kid, you’ve got a powerful metabolism,” she laughs.

Curiously, the triple jump wasn’t her first choice. She began by trying out various disciplines to gain a better understanding of her body. Her mum, Oxana, was a triple jumper, whilst her dad was an athlete and later a coach. Her path seemed set, but Dariya also had another passion. “My all-time love has been American football. My dad used to play for teams in Salerno and Naples, and as a little girl I’d go and watch all his matches. When I was three or four, I thought: if I cut my hair short, maybe they won’t realise I’m a girl and I’ll be able to play too.”

The most difficult part of her recent story recounts the operations and months spent trying to repair her Achilles tendon. 2025 had got off to the worst possible start. “I partially injured my tendon practically during the warm-up for the first race. And my preparation had gone brilliantly; I knew I was in good shape. I was left with that sense of regret at not having been able to prove anything.” Then came the operations, one after the other. And a career that could have come to an abrupt halt. “Perhaps I never lost my determination. I wanted to give meaning to all those years and all the effort I’d put in. Athletics is the centre of my life: throwing it all away and saying ‘I’ve had an operation, that’s it’ without even trying would have seemed stupid to me.” She took it all as a challenge and, in the end, prevailed on the platform in Birmingham. A milestone, yet merely one step along the way. Athletes in her discipline never stop at the first jump. “Body permitting, because last year I put it through its paces a bit – in Los Angeles, I think… But I reckon it’ll carry me for a while longer.”

Dariya has witnessed the transformation of Italian athletics from the inside. She first wore the national team jersey in 2013 and since then has noticed a change, particularly in terms of mindset. “Today, we have a team that knows it is strong. We go into competitions wanting to beat even those who, on paper, are stronger than us. Years ago, we used to look at them almost thinking: ‘How lucky they are to be so strong.’ Not anymore.” She doesn’t think it’s just a lucky season: “Italian sport has grown in terms of mentality and self-awareness.” And in this new era of Italian sport, women have carved out a huge space for themselves through their victories. “Women have always been strong. Naturally, we’re built to endure things that men might not even be able to imagine. Then, over time, history has gradually given us more and more opportunities to prove it, and today we may well be moving towards true equality.”