Sunday, Bloody Sunday - Finishing March
Trip Start
Feb 05, 2009
1
27
45
Trip End
Jul 10, 2009
Bolzano, Trentino-Alto Adige, Italy
Monday, March 30, 2009
I woke up with an hour to get to the stadium. Vegetable medley infused scrambled eggs, with toast was on the pregame menu. At 12:30, Edwin grabbed the car keys and said he was going to the stadium. The irony killed me.
I peddled through a light but steady rain to the stadium. Chiba greeted me at the gate, and asked me how I was. I said fine but he persisted and I told him we'll play football now and talk later.
I dressed and got out onto the field. It was raining harder now. In warm-ups I threw the ball great until after a couple drops and a missed throw it became water-logged and slick. I wasn't worried, we had game balls that were dry. I felt good and just tried to keep my head clear. Mario didn't have decent pair of cleats so I loaned him my new Nike Vapors for the game. And he only had black socks so I gave him a pair of white Nike compression socks, to complete his look. In the locker before the game he was trying to negotiate a price for them. I told him in three weeks, Lauren comes out, I'll buy a pair and she can bring them out.
We received the opening kickoff, and Reggie promply ran it back for a touchdown. I could feel a blowout developing. I lined up to kick the PAT, and the Milan Rhino's got hit with an illegal substitution penalty that moved the ball up to the 1.5 yard line, so we went for two. But then our guard Kiao, jumped offside so we went to kick the PAT. The snap slipped through Cheeba's hand's, then his legs, and I scooped up the ball and ran right. Marco was open short for a second, then wheeled toward the back of the endzone. I lofted it but to far inside and it was intercepted and we received no points. What a way to start a game.
Our defense got a quick stop and we were out on the field. On second down, I lofted a comeback too high for Mario and we faced third and ten. I hit Marco for 9 yards but we had to punt. Tisma told me to run if I could. We lined up with 12 men, I should have taken a timeout, but just tried to get the play off before the ref's could count. They were very efficient counters, I took the snap and ran right for the first down but the play was blown dead. We punted.
On the second drive, I drilled a post between the safeties to Joeseppi, who caught it then lost it on the way down as the safety tackled him. Reggie ended up scoring on the drive and on the second PAT, we faked it, I took the pitch from Chiba, rolled right then hit Marco going left. That play never gets old.
The rain continued, everything was soaked and we only rotated two balls in, and they were not exempt from the moisture. In the second quarter, first Joessepi got his hand stepped on and had to leave the game with three holes in it (I don't know what kind of spikes they are wearing it Italy). Later in the quarter I scrambled out of the pocket and had Chiba running a post down the middle of the field. I flipped it to him, but not high enough and the American linebacker jumped up and intercepted it.
On the walk back to the sideline, I have never had such an outpouring of support, the defensive guys telling me they got me, they'd get it back. It was fantastic. Mario congratulated me on my first Italian interception. It was amusing but I was pissed.
We were up 14 going into halftime on two Green touchdown run's and With seconds before halftime, the Rhinos had the ball and I was lined up at safety. Instead of launching one deep, they tossed it to the American running back who got loose, and sprinted full speed down the sideline. I came over with the angle, and for a second debated going high, then just chopped out his legs and knocked him out of bounds. Mummy, there is another tackled in your IFL fantasy football league.
At halftime Tisma gave us an earful, said some things to me. I've never felt so bad at halftime being up 14-0. But I felt horrible. We were close, but we dropped a couple balls and I missed a couple throws.
We kicked off and the Rhino's were ready to go. We gave up a quick TD and it was 14-6. Then we got stopped at midfield. I punted the football and we downed it at the 1 yard line. Probably my best play of the day in retrospect. But it didn't matter. On the first play the running back broke for sixty yards. Our defensive managed to dig in and get a stop though.
We drove back the other way, and it looked as if we were poised to go back up two touchdowns. But on first down from the Rhino's 35, I pulled up on a play action pass left and ran back right. I had Reggie in the flat for a second, but the corner jumped him so he wheeled down the sideline.
I tried to float it over the corner for him, but instead just tossed the ball to the safety who was deep on the right hash. I probably missed by twenty yards. It was one of the worst throws of my life. The safety made the easy interception then ran around before he was tackled. I walked to the sideline in disbelief, embarrassed that I had really just made a play that bad. This time there as no outpouring of support. I walked off to the sideline, looked up into the stands and saw Paulo the weightroom director. Last Monday he was singing my praises to Edwin. He wouldn't be this week.
Tisma had some words for me I cannot blame him. It was an embarrassing interception. Miraculously our defense got the ball back and we drove the field. After a quarterback sneak we had a first down at the Rhino's thirty. The play was motion to trips right, and then a post to Mario on the weakside. He had been asking for it most of the game. The weakside safety started to the middle of the field with the motion but on the snap he went back towards Mario, I looked right then came back to Mario, he beat the corner and I thought the safety. I tossed a waterlogged duck in his direction and then felt my stomach sink as the safety glided back under it. He and Mario both went up and Mario came down with it. It was a Christmas miracle. I ran after Mario and we celbrated with a grande chest bump. Then I missed the PAT.
On our final possession, I hit Mario for a ten yard game on a scrample play, and Tisma proclaimed, "Now you play like a quarterback!" I chuckled. Reggie punched it in from the 4 and we ended up winning 27-6. It was the least personally satisfying 27-6 win I have ever been a part of but never the less, the Giants are 4-0 and I have never been on a team for all it lacks this complete.
In retrospect though for as bad as I played, Tisma kept calling pass plays which is a good sign. Even at the end of the game he was sprinkling in passes to go along with the heavy doses of Reggie. I can take some solace in that.
After the game I took off my soaked gear and clothes while Coach Franco brought cases of beer into the locker room. I walked out to where everyone was congregating and then begrudgingly had to recant the story of last night to Luca and then Christine and Corrine. I also met Dylan the American quarterback of Milano. He was out with an ankle injury for another week or two. He played at Kansas State, and was a really nice guy. We talked for a good twenty minutes about Italy and our experiences. He had played in Dresden, Germany the two previous years and said he wanted to try a big city so he came to Milano. It was funny because he was saying that they were supposed to get paid on Thursday and the team was stringing them out, saying they'd get paid today. A coach came up and he asked him, and got told Tuesday. He wasn't very happy about that, and I don't blame him. That's one thing Coach Wood said about Tisma, he is very good about paying on time, and that has proven true. We exchanged phone numbers and he said next time I was in Milano to hit him up and we'd go out.
I came home to my roommate and his female friend from Verona. I talked to her for a second, then retired to my quarters for a shower and a game recap. Andrea the coordinator was throwing a party a local club, so some of the team was headed there. They had happy hour, and then pasta for free for us. Chiba said he was too tired, but then Marco called me. His phone bugged out so I called him back and he said he was just walking in our apartment. I quickly got ready. Marco in shoe lingo is a serious overpronator, and it leads to his knee problems. It doesn't help that he wears a worn out pair of once white puma sneakers with the laces untied. They are folded in like the sides of a two man tent. He needs a max stability or motion control badly. But I just have my moderate stability Mizuno's that I need and a mess around pair of mild stability New Balances that I hardly wear. I figure mild stability is better than trashed Puma's so I gave him my New Balances and he wore them out.
At the club we had our own section, though it was mostly younger guys, Alex, Joeseppi, Atila, and then Marco, Andrea and I. Paulo the corner was the only senior member of the group at 37. I ordered a vodka tonic, and every time I do, I wonder what will come back. It was a fairly ordinary drink, and Atila generously picked it up for me. I talked to the guys, most of whom had girlfriends present and chatted with Paulo for a while. It was good to be out.
Atila drove Marco and I back to the Giants casa, he wanted to work out with me in the morning but couldn't get a ride in from Merano so he slept over. I pulled out the extra bed for him, and we set it up in the dining/ living room. He hurt his knee in the game, so I loaned him my ice pack as well. We tried playing two games that Luca had loaned us but they were only for one player so we ended up playing Madden, and he won in a shootout. I think I'm going to retire from Madden '03.
My parents called, and of course it was great to talk to them. It was brief though, because they ran out of money on their Skype account. Unfortunately I can't get Skype going on my computer, but my mom told me Google offers something similar, so maybe I will try it.
Monday 30-3
I slept until 11:30 worried that Marco would be awake just waiting downstairs. I walked down and he was asleep with the blanket pulled over his head to block out the light streaming through the window. He complained that somewhere in the building someone was spraying a hose very loudly, maybe using a compressor earlier in the morning. I apologized, and laughed. Our building has no insulation. Sitting in my room, I hear trucks, people on the street, a dog barking somewhere in our building, the elevator, doors shutting. It's crazy.
I resolved to treat Marco to a gourmet American breakfast, sliced up the rest of my potatoes and grilled a poor excuse for hashbrowns. They tasted great. He said they were good, and then skeptically looked at the French toast I made him. I showed him how to eat it as Lauren prefers with Lemon juice, butter, and powdered sugar, but he preferred jam or Nutella. After a slow start he told that my French toast was really good. My breakfast is winning Italians over left and right.
We walked to get cigereets, watched shaft in Italian and played Madden until three. Just before we went to lift, I got a text message back from Irene, my female friend from the bank. I had called her last week, but she texted back that she was busy. I told her we should get a drink Monday or Wednesday but got iced, no repsonse. So after the game Sunday I tried calling her again and got nothing. I suspected three things, the first of which was that my botched Italiano goodbye had so thoroughly disgusted her she was no longer willing to see me, that my choice of t-shirt was wrong, or that lastly she had another male acquaintance.
The text informed me that she couldn't get a drink because she has a boyfriend and it's complicated. I told her, it always is. And with that Irene was out of the picture.
I had to go into Edwin's room to ask for the car keys, our first interaction of the day and then Marco and I went to the stadium to meet Andrea.
At the gym we got after the chest and back. It cracks me up lifting with Marco and Andrea but they work hard and do everything on the workout. I apologized to Paulo for playing so badly, he said to start, in the first half I was terrible, but he was proud that I came back with the late touchdown pass. At least that's a liberal translation of the conversation.
Another woman whose name I think starts with an L that speaks English came to the gym while we were in there. Paulo introduced us before but I'd already asked her name twice, so I can't ask a third time. I'm pretty sure it's a rule. We talked for a few minutes, I told her I was doing all right but was disappointed about my performance in the game. She said that she'd heard, read rather about it. I could only imagine what the Italian paper says. I figure I'll just stay away from it this week.
Andrea drove Marco to the bus, then took me to get an adapter since Edwin confiscated his from me. Andrea is a really nice kid, 19, just finishing up high school, and speaks pretty good English. He dropped me back at the stadium and I took the car home, grabbed my Internet information and rode as fast as I could to 3, the store to get more internet time. I had 35 minutes until it closed at 7, and made it, sweating a little more than mildly in less than 20 minutes. I walked in and found myself trying to stare at a tall dark haired Italian girl with two male acquaintances. She was absolutely gorgeous. After a couple minutes, she walked out of the store and out of my life forever. Man, it's rough out here, good-looking girls abound, and I have such limited capacity to garner their attention. Like I talked to Dylan the Milano quarterback about, you just have to say, "Tu parle Inglease?" and hope.
I charged up my account then took off down via Druso, Bolzano's main street as fast as I could, trying to get to LD before it closed at 7. After weaving in and out of traffic, running lights, and dodging motorcycles, I made it with three minutes to spare. I grabbed bread, two baguettes, eggs, speck, and mozzerella and was in line. I got to the register and realized I was almost out of spaghetti. I said "une secondo" and sprinted back and grab two packs. I paid and realized that I forgot sauce. I snagged two jars and got back in line. The lady laughed and smiled.
Mummy would be proud of me for this, dating back to our freshman soccer days eating spinach feta pizza, but I cooked up spinach, feta, and speck (bacon) spaghetti at home and watched Spiderman. As I was cooking my roommate walked out his room for the first time since I got home, headphones on and blaring, grabbed two clean plates from the drying rack along with the four plastic yellow bowls he had purchased, opened his cupboard and put them up there, then walked back into his room and shut his door. I opened up his cupboard to make sure what I thought had just really happened did actually take place. Sure enough along with all his food were two plates and his four bowls. Apparently he was claiming the plates, and putting away the bowls so I couldn't use them. Just ridiculously juvenile and immature five-year-old only child behavior. I thought next he was going to paint a line down the middle of the apartment and designate sides.
Tuesday March 31st
After two days of not interacting with my roommate, I finally decided enough is enough. He was eating breakfast and I tried to smooth things over with him. I told him what happened Saturday happened, we probably won't see eye to eye on what happened so let's just leave it in the past. We don't have to be friends, but we should at least be civil. That warranted a few grunts until he finally said that we play football together and that's it. And that the only way he thought "it" was going to work is if we split the dishes and whatever else could be split. I said he could do what he wants to do but I'm thought that was stupid and I was going to be civil and cordial.
After practice I was interviewed by David Fodor, the writer for the Alto Adige. He's young maybe 26-27 and speaks pretty good English. He had written down a number of questions. I tried to speak slowly and keep things simple but didn't do very well with the latter. Near the end he apologized but said he had to ask me about the Milano game and why I had played so poorly maybe the rain, maybe nerves playing my first game in Bolzano. I said it was no problem then answered the question saying that thinking back maybe I wasn't as mentally focused as I should have been. He ended the interview and then told me as a fan and observer, he thought I was the best quarterback to play in Bolzano since he had been covering the team the last five years. And that Tisma thought the same thing though he would never tell me that.
