Imperia

Monday morning was hell. 6:00am. I wanted to throw my alarm clock as it alerted me to start my day. I would rather hear nails scraping a chalkboard for 10 minutes then hear that initial “bleep” of the clock in the morning. Following my initial loathing of my alarm clock was the realization that my whole body was in tremendous pain. The two year break from snowboarding was paying its toll now. Everything from the arches in my feet, up through my back and to the top of my neck was screaming at me that anything but staying in bed for the next 2 days was ill-advised. As much as I wanted to comply I had to get ready and meet the team as we were taking a road trip to Imperia for a day of training against their squad. Somehow I got myself to the rendezvous spot and instantly fell asleep on the bus. While I was far away and safe from my alarm clock I ended up snoring so loud that I woke myself up…I just couldn’t win.
Imperia which is located at one of the farthest west regions of the country is right near the border of France. It is a town that starts up in the hills and flows down through the valleys till it hits the sea and a very nice little harbor. The indoor pool was amazing and located right at the edge of the docks. After our morning training we walked all around the harbor and coastal part of the town until we hit the beach. While most of the guys were not that impressed by the town, I thought it was beautiful and made a mental note to return when I had the time.
I was excited to scrimmage with this squad because they have one of the few Americans that is playing over here, Jeff Powers. While I don’t really know him, I’ve been playing against him since I was 16 and was looking forward to finally speaking some normal English with someone. Powers is a stud, a very talented center who was a huge contributor on the USA silver medal Olympic Team. I haven’t played against him since I converted to a defender and was curious to see how I’d stack up. Unfortunately for me returned to the US for the holidays and wasn’t there.
They were a strong team and gave us a pretty good beating in our session. I don’t think it helped that Cano (or goalie) and I couldn’t move our legs from the day of boarding before. I thought I could swim through it and loosen out but it never happened. I was exhausted and sore the whole time. There were some moments of nice play and even a little fight between me and their other center stopped play for a while as we had to be separated. I was happy to see that Andrea (Captain) stepped in for me right away and had my back. You never really know where you team stands with you until something like that happens.
After our second training session of the day we left the Imperia and stopped in Savona for a very nice dinner. We have two players from Savona and it was really nice to see a little of their town. Andrea and Alessio ordered the food and it seemed like the dishes kept coming. The full and happy stomach put me right to sleep as I didn’t wake up until we were all the way back in Bergamo regardless of my snoring.

-Bus #10

Boarding

Sunday morning I woke up at 6am to meet Cano and his two friends Marco and Macro to hit the mountains for a day of snowboarding. We pilled in Cano’s car and started making the 2hr trek to the slopes. There are some resorts that are only 45 mins from Bergamo but his buddies wanted to go to this specific place in hopes of better snow.
Since I was gone all last winter in Australia it was my first time up in 2 years. I don’t consider myself a great snowboarder by any means but I hold my own and won’t slow the group down.
The snow was…how can I say this….SHIT. There was definitely a lot of it but it was far from fresh and almost completely ice. Ever since I was 14 I haven’t been able to enjoy myself boarding because the whole time I hear my dad’s voice in the back of my head, “Don’t screw your shoulder up”. First it was don’t get hurt so that I could get my simple minded butt into a good college, and then it was don’t mess up your arm and not be able to play when season comes around, and now they are actually paying me so I feel pretty obligated to keep my body healthy. Don’t get me wrong I didn’t just go heal side scootching down the runs on my ass the whole time but I definitely threw in a few extra check turns to keep me under arm-breaking speed. Even though the conditions weren’t perfect and I couldn’t get Pops out of my head it felt great to be up there.
The mountains are cool and all but I would still take the ocean any and every single day over them…just not really my thing.

-Bus #10

Italian Christmas

At age 24, I’m starting to become a little skeptical of this Santa character. Maybe he just didn’t get the address change, but I woke up Friday morning and searched my apt high and low not finding one single Christmas present. I was so confused…
There wasn’t much time to dwell on my conundrum because I had to shower down, get dressed up, and meet Roberto for Christmas mass. He brought me to his local church that his family attends fairly regularly. When I inquired about going to church the day before I asked him if it was catholic, he looked at me contemplating how dumb I really was and responded, “They are ALL catholic churches”. It was a full house and everyone was in their Sunday’s best. I didn’t understand much but it was really nice just being there. Plus you always have to make sure you are at church the two days that the Big Guy takes roll; Christmas and Easter.
When the ceremony ended I dropped Roberto back at his house and got ready for Christmas lunch. Sessa (Matteo Sessantini) invited me to share Christmas with his family and I was more than excited to accept. In Italy instead of having a dinner celebration they have a large lunch gathering. We drove over to his grandparents house where I was introduced to his parents, sister, grandparents, Aunt, Uncle, and his three cousins, and the dog Tango; My Italian family for Christmas!
The afternoon started off with appetizers and drinks. Then we moved into the dining room and had more appetizers and wine. A few more rounds of appetizers and a few more glasses of wine and we were finally ready for the main course, a beautifully cooked fish. Everything was amazing and by the end I was so full I couldn’t move. There were lots of questions for me and I was lucky because along with Sessa, two of his cousins spoke English very well. Everyone was so nice and I felt very lucky to be surrounded by these amazing people on this special day.
After the meal was finished his little 10 year old cousin popped out of the room and returned with an accordion almost the size of her. She busted it out of its box and set up some music and started playing some American Christmas songs. This was probably my favorite part of the night as everyone crowded around her and tried to sing along as she fought her way through the songs. While her playing wasn’t that smooth it made it all the better. If she would have played them perfectly I would have been very very impressed but the way she was struggling showed how hard she was trying. It was too precious.
The concert was amazing and now it was time for the games. The dining table was cleared and everyone sat down and we played a bunch of different Bergamasco card games. It was really fun and reminded me of something my own family would typically do after a holiday meal with all the cousins. By six O’clock I was drained. I was full and tired and very happy. It had been an amazing day with great people. My Italian Christmas.
-Bus #10

So Thats What You Call Snow

So I might have been a little premature with my excitement. I saw a little more white on the ground than the frost I would see some cold mornings back home and I felt I had to yell the thrilling news from atop a mountain. I would find little piles of snow in the park and think, “Look at all the SNOW!” “How cool is this!”. I had to actively search to locate small patches and I was still as excited as a 5 yr old xmas morning. I feel like an Idiot now because that was only a hint of what was to come.
On Monday afternoon, after a hard day of sleeping in, reading, and watching Sports Center 3 times on my computer, it was 6 O'clock and time to head on over to the pool for practice. I gathered my stuff, walked out the front door, put a dumb and confused look on my face and asked myself, “Dude, where’s my car?”
Unbeknownst to me it hadn’t been snowing a little during the day; it had been SNOWING! I was stuck in my footsteps looking up and down the street, “What the hell happened?” I felt as though I was in a completely different place. It had been dumping all day long and everything was looked magical. It seriously felt like I walked onto a set of a movie, I couldn’t believe that much snow had landed outside my door without me knowing.
I looked down the street and could barely see the clown car. I was covered in so much snow it completely blended into the whiteout that was everything else. With snow piled up all the way to the wheel wells, there was no way I was going to be able to drive it to practice, let alone move it from that spot for the next week.
I called up Cano and he said that he was at the university but would be there in 10 mins to pick me up. He arrived with Michele sitting shotgun and they immediately started going off about how stupid it was that we had training. We putted down the road but once we hit the main street it was apparent that we weren’t going anywhere fast. It was complete gridlock and it took us 20 minutes to travel the 100 meters to the main light.
Captain and Co captain up front had a quick discussion and decided that there wasn’t practice tonight after all. The called up the coach, told him the situation, and then flipped a “B”. I thought I was going back home but we went straight past it and ended up a few mins later at their university. We exited the sanctuary of the warm car and shuffled through the kneed deep snow and arriving at the study lounge. “Why the hell are we here?” I was contemplating as Cano opened the doors to a room full of drunk idiots running around. He informed me that one of his friends had just graduated that day and they were all celebrating; in the study lounge of all places.
Bottles of cheep champagne floated around the room and the kids confidence in their English skills as well as their fascination with an American present was peaking. I quickly became the center of attention, but not in a good way. They would ask me questions about home which was cool but then they started, as they always do, trying to make me say stuff in Italian. When it’s a drunk college kid trying to make you say something in Italian, it’s not so much to help you as it is for his own amusement. They try to have you repeat all the bad words and sayings and they think it’s a riot. I felt like a monkey. At one point I had to remind them that just because I didn’t know their language didn’t mean that I was retarded. It really made me think back on all the foreigners that I’ve met, befriended or just casually conversed with back home. While they would try their best to talk to me in English I would always subconsciously make a judgment on their competency as a whole based on their level of communication. Thinking back on it now makes me feel a little sick as I’m sure I talked down to or even treated someone as if they were slow because they couldn’t fluently speak MY language. It is a whole new experience being on the other side but I believe it is good as it has not only opened my eyes to my previous behavior but also motivated me more to work diligently to conquer Italian.
After the booze fest in the biblioteca we traversed over to a restaurant where I had my 5th pizza this week. The whole time it kept snowing outside and after the meal we congregated in front of the pizzeria for a huge snowball fight in the plaza. The snow was perfect; fresh but because it was so cold out it was incredibly dry. A quick scoop with your right hand, one molding pat with your left and this baby was compact and ready to rifle. This probably wasn’t the best idea for a sore shoulder. I knew firing light pieces of snow in the cold as hard as I could without warming up was going to set me back a little but I couldn’t pass this experience up!

-Bus #10

Winter Party

Sunday afternoon was the annual Christmas celebration for all of Bergamo Nuoto (Bergamo Aquatics). It was a full day party that gathered all the teams that train at the facility; Swimming, diving, synchronized swimming, and of course water polo. While the festivities were mainly geared as a showcase for the younger programs to show their parents a sincro routine or a new dive, they also wanted some of guys from the mens polo squad to show their face and help out. I arrived to the pool and clearly was not ready for what I was getting into. There must have been 200 kids running all around the pool deck completely crazy like they just downed 15 pixie stix.
I am quickly becoming some sort of a celebrity to the little polo kids. They always rush up in groups of 4 or five like they have something very important to tell me. About halfway through their intense story they finally realize that I can’t understand them. They look to one another to see if anyone else could translate but they r all around 10 or 11 years old and only know the basic English introductions. Because I’m about at the same spot in my quest to conquer the Italian language the conversation dies and it quickly turns into a wrestling match where they all try to bum rush me and I end up throwing them all in the pool. They love it, coming back for more and more wanting to be thrown higher and farther.
After all the sincro teams (ages 8 to 26) gave their performances they gathered a few people from every one of the programs and split them up on two teams. There must have been 20 people on a team with 2 guys from our mens squad on each. They then put the goals in the pool and threw in 6 water polo balls and had a fun scrimmage. The best part was when the really little kids got too tired and they came up and used me as a buoy. I would then swim them down near the cage with them on my back, steal a ball from one of the teenage polo punks and let the little sea monkey that was warped around my neck take a shot. They were so stoked!
After the polo match they split up everyone into teams of 10 and had a relay race. The senior sincro squad made a personalized speedo for me that said “I ♥ Sincro” on the back in green sequence pieces. They thought it was hilarious and I didn’t care so rocked it while they sported their “I ♥ Water Polo” suits. I think our team cheated and only had 8 swimmers because we finished way ahead of everyone else. Our kids didn’t seem to notice as they celebrated by holding up their finger to show their friends on the other teams that they were #1.
It was a great day where I was able to meet a lot of kids, parents, and other supporters of the aquatics programs. I really feel so fortunate to have come to such a great town with amazing people.

-Bus #10

It Always Tastes Better When You Win

3 in a row…That’s what you call a streak! Saturday night it was go-time as we faced off against Trieste. Our last game before the winter break and a chance to stay at top of the leader board. I remembered my shirt this time and was able to participate in the pre-game introductions. It is a pretty cool experience standing up there, I felt like a mercenary about to go to battle. I had my teams gear on, my “mean face”, and I was ready to do work.
I got my second consecutive start as I matched up with their left-handed center. The game was back and forth the whole first quarter until our captain/coach snipered an end of shot-clock bomb from about 12 meters. I was pretty impressed but even more excited to finally get a stoppage in play. I finished out the rest of the first quarter trying to front their center as much as possible and calling an “M” zone when I felt myself losing position. Collectively we played strong defense but couldn’t get the ball rolling offensively. At the end of the first period of play the score was tied 1-1.
In the second our attack seemed much stronger but we just couldn’t pull away from them. We earned numerous man-advantage situations but we were unable convert. We were definitely dictating the game but the scoreboard wasn’t showing it. It wasn’t until the third till our ball really started finding the back of the net. We continued our momentum through the 4th and finished with a 9 to 6 victory. No goals from their center and he only got me excluded once (towards the end of the 4th , I believe it was a scoreboard kick out but they didn’t score on it anyways).
After the match everyone was in great spirits! We headed to the upstairs part of the restaurant where it was roped off for our dinner function with Errestampa. It wasn’t as much a dinner as it was wine and hors d’oeuvres. We all grabbed a glass of red and had a big cheers ( or chin chin). As I’ve said before; good wine, bad wine, I can’t tell the difference. I do know that when you win, whatever it is always tastes a little better. I continued to float around from table to table trying all the different types of sliced meats, fish, sausages, crackers, lasagnas and of course CHEESES! There must have been at least 10 different types and I made sure I tried all of them at least 4 times. That’s a lot of cheese.
The party was great as I was introduced to a lot of the people from the company who wanted to meet the American player. I even talked with the head of Errestampa and his wife for a while. They are a very nice couple and the husband spoke very strong English. They were curious as to how I was enjoying Italy, why I choose Bergamo, what I thought of the water polo and team, and of course how I felt about the snow and temperature (-9c last night burrrrr).
When the gathering started dying down I dropped downstairs to grab a beer and shoot the S#%* with Sergio (our acting coach and restaurant owner). I always look forward to these chats as they usually lead to him showing me a new type of food. I want my mom to know how good of care he and the rest of the team have been taking care of me. I am definitely not going to go hungry under their watch!

-Bus #10

More Ink

SNOW

It’s about time! I was starting to get a little P.O.’d. It’s been freezing and I’ve had nothing to show for it. If I’m going to be doubling up my socks and wearing long johns there better at least be some snow. OK well maybe it didn’t dump last night. I’m not about to go buy a sled to start sliding up and down the streets of Bergamo, but it did snow! At least enough to scrape the ground, pack a snowball, and use the stop signs (yeah, their stop signs actually say “stop”) as target practice.
There were rumors that it was coming; I’ve been like a little kid waking up every morning and rushing to the window to see if the ground was now white. I’ve been angry, crawling back in bed and sleeping of my disappointment…until this morning! I immediately layered myself and ran down stairs and over to the park. I stopped in a local café and had an espresso to get me going. I continued to walk up and down the streets of Dalmine, searching for the thickest patches and breathing the crisp fresh air.
Of course I’ve been in the snow plenty of times. This is different though. Usually I have to travel in the car all the way to Tahoe, this time the snow came to me! From what I hear Bergamo usually doesn’t get a thick coat, just a few inches at the most. This is a great sign that the Alps, which are right behind the city will be fresh and ready for me to get in a few days of riding. The resorts are only about 45 mins from my house and I’m planning on getting up there a few times over the holidays!
In the pool, we play Trieste Saturday night. This is a huge game because our main sponsor Errestampa will be there with all its executive employees. It’s a must win because after the match the team has a dinner function with the company. Nobody wants to be associated with a bunch of losers, so hopefully we get the W, stay undefeated, and make them proud!

-Bus #10

Some Ink

An article that came out earlier this week in the Bergamo Newspaper. It just recaps our game last weekend and talks about where we rank in the season- tied in first place right now!

The Road Ahead

Errestampa PN Bergamo 2009-20010 Schedule

Dec 5 2009 Errestampa PN Bergamo 9 vs Modena Nuoto 2
Dec 12 2009 Errestampa PN Bergamo 8 at Chiavari Nuoto 6
Dec 19 2009 Errestampa PN Bergamo vs Pallanuoto Trieste
Jan 9 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo at Pallanuoto Brescia
Jan 16 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo vs Vigevano Nuoto
Jan 23 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo at RN Camogli
Jan 30 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo vs Como Nuoto
Feb 6 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo at CS Plebiscito PD
Feb 13 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo vs Torino 81
Feb 20 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo vs President Bologna
Feb 27 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo at SC Quinto
Mar 6 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo at Modena Nuoto
Mar 13 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo va Chiavari Nuoto
Mar 20 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo at Pallanauoto Trieste
Mar 27 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo vs Pallanuoto Brescia
Apr 10 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo at Vigevano Nuoto
Apr 17 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo vs RN Camogli
Apr 24 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo at Como Nuoto
May 2 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo vs CS Plebscito PD
May 8 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo at Torino 81
May 15 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo at President Bologna
May 22 2010 Errestampa PN Bergamo SC Quinto

Top 4 Teams compete in Playoffs against the top 4 teams from southern Italy

The Crocodile

I would like to start off with an apology. I know that your coffee has tasted lifeless and your bagel bland with the absence of POLOandPASTA to fulfill your morning routine. I will strive to see that this blog never sees a drought of 6 days with no post again.
In my defense, I’m writing about my job. How exciting can a blog be about one's job? It’s the same thing day after day. Can you believe that they actually want me to work Saturday’s too? And that is when they expect me to work the hardest. I finally understand the drag that people have been telling me for years about the grind of going to work.
How many of you want to strangle me right now? HAHA
The week itself actually wasn’t that exciting. My days are typically spent reading or driving into town and just walking around. I usually head over to the pool to get in a lift before noon and then have lunch at the restaurant afterward. When I get more comfortable with my Italian and the train system, I plan on taking day trips to nearby towns (Milan 40mins, Genoa 2 1/2hrs, Florence 3hrs). Everything is so close in Northern Italy that I can just hop on a train, spend the day exploring around a city, and be back in time for practice at night.
In the pool we focused for our game on Saturday vs Chiavari, a pretty strong team located just south of Genoa. All I heard the entire week was that they have a big, left-handed Croatian center whose nickname was “The Crocodile” because his go-to maneuver was to grab the testicles of his defender to gain better position. GREAT. The whole week I had to give a pep-talk to my boys letting them know that I wouldn’t let anything happen to them. They were skeptical, so was I.
Saturday afternoon we all arrived at the pool around 1:30pm, hopped in a bus and hit the road to Genoa. While the rest of the team zoned out and tried to prepare for the game I was busy taking in all the sights of the amazing towns we passed. There were so many little villages scattered along hillsides and down the rivers. Of course my camera was in the back of the bus (not like anyone has ever won a Pulitzer shooting from a bus window flying down the highway at 100km an hr).
Close to 3hrs later we finally arrived in Chiavari. After a clear drive the whole way, the damnedest thing happened; it starting hailing right when we hit the exit from the freeway. I’m no profit, but I knew that couldn’t be a good sign. ..
The game started and the environment was awesome. With no huge football (soccer) teams nearby the town’s biggest sport is water polo. They get a strong turnout and bring great energy. The whole right side of the stands were packed with teenagers who brought drums, flags, and whistles (which kept confusing me the whole game). They sang songs the entire match of which I did not understand but I feared they weren’t being nice to our mothers.
We started off solid with a quick counter and goal right away, 1-0. Immediately following we went into a deep hole and they went on a 4 goal run, 4-1. Shit. What just happened? Their fans were going nuts. As much as I loved the atmosphere I was tempted to storm up into the stands and ring one of the kid’s necks to shut-up. Our coach laid into us at the quarter break. I think a rough translation was “Pull your head out of you’re a$$”.
We did! From the start of the second all the way to the middle of the 4th we went on a 7-0 bashing. With the wind out of their sails and the crowd growing silent we were able to hold them off to an 8-6 victory! This was an excellent challenge to see how our team deals with adversity; and we rose!
I know all of you are dying right now wondering, “But Russ, what about your jewels?” I appreciate your concern and I’m very happy to tell you, “They are A-OK”! There were a few close calls where I definitely felt him treasure hunting, but I was always able to shift away from the croc’s grasp to a place of refuge. While the goods were kept good he did manage to familiarize my face with his elbow as well as fist. The jaw was pretty raw the next day but to recap; no earned ejections or goals from their center.
Bus 1 - Crocodile 0

-Bus #10

Game Time

Just like the monarchs of natural bridges, the butterflies were back Saturday night. Our first game of our season and my first real game playing in Italy. I laid out all my new gear (shirts, jackets, Speedos) that I had gotten the night before and sat around fidgeting in the apartment all day until it was time to leave for the pool. It was a home game so I hoped in the clown car and drove the 10 minutes to the pool. The complex was completely transformed. There were huge posters and banners set up all around advertising the team’s sponsors. The pool was flawless and ready for the battle. Everything was so professional looking it made me feel kind of important.
We had our pregame chat which I didn’t understand more than five words and then hoped in the pool to warm up. With the music bumping and the crowd filtering in I was getting pretty pumped up. I did my normal pregame routine and then we all got out of the pool for the presentations. One problem, when they told us what to wear for the game they forgot to retell in English. I asked one of my teammates what I should bring and he forgot to tell me that we had to bring our sponsor shirt for the introduction ceremony. I couldn’t believe it, I had to miss my first pregame intro, something I had definitely looked forward to. Instead I just sat on the bench and watched, I felt like I was wearing a dunce cap.
The ceremony finished and my team filtered over. Everyone had put in a tough offseason and was ready for it to finally begin. Our opponent was Modena Nuoto, a team that I was told was young but I thought looked pretty big and strong. While I didn’t get the start, my team shot out of the gates to an early lead. Capitalizing on some 6 on 5 opportunities we quickly went up 2 – 0. Halfway through the first quarter I got the call, “Roosil, u in”. First off the bench. I had been studying their center forward the first few minutes and felt confident that I could shut him down. I got a few defensive stops and some tough counters and I lost my self in the moment. This was awesome; I was actually living out a dream.
On our 4th counter attack some overgrown man-child on the other team was grabbing my suit the whole way down the pool. The only thing that went through my mind was what my old coaches had told me, “Don’t take any shit from anyone”. I had to make it known that I was not going to be the foreign kid who let you walk all over him. It was now or never, time to send a message. I took two hard strokes to get in front then stopped and came back with a hard head butt followed by a strong right elbow. I was actually kind of proud of the connection. They immediately called an offensive foul and the possession got switched to the other team. Even though my team wasn’t happy with the foul and the ogre didn’t look like he was going to be my new friend, I knew that this was something I needed to do. We quickly got a defensive stop and the giant actually ended up switching so he didn’t have to guard me on the next counter.
Our goalie was on fire and we continually increased our lead. I was proud with my play, no kick outs from center and they didn’t even get a shot off. That’s all you can really hope for when defending. I felt strong in there wrestling with their freak and my shoulder held up perfectly. No goals tonight from me as I only took one shot that I probably forced. That didn’t stop our team from being successful as we cruised past Modena Nuoto winning easily 9-2. It was a great way to a start of a long season.


-Bus #10

Italian Lesson

Wednesday night we don’t have pool time so we always travel to some nearby team for a training scrimmage. Two days ago we drove to Como which is on the south banks of Lake Como about an Hr and 15 min northwest of Bergamo. When we arrived temperatures outside were flirting with freezing but they had a very nice indoor swimming complex and I was eager to get in and play. As exciting as Tuesday swim-sets are (always 15x200m…always), I constantly look forward to Wednesday night where we actually get to play. While there are no defined quarters and goals aren’t recorded this doesn’t take away from the competitiveness. You still want to kick their ass every possession. There is no point of driving close to 3 hrs just to go through the motions.
Unfortunately, this is exactly what our team did. Como is a sporadic team that reminds me a lot of UCSD. They play a very unstructured game with people driving all over the place trying to capitalize on backdoors and homerun passes. This is not a successful way to play polo at this level but if the other team falls asleep and doesn’t stick to their style of play, they will quickly find themselves in a hole.
We did not follow our game plan and at a half time break our coach Andrea (Ahn-dray-ah) let us know. It’s sad but the first words the foreign kid always learns are the bad ones, and he gave us a lecture that night. Surprisingly there wasn’t much I didn’t understand because he stuck to my comfort area when describing on how we were playing. We were lazy on defense, and combining bad passes with stupid shots on offense. The second half we played a little better and ended up somewhere even against a poor Como team that we should have easily dominated. The ride back to Bergamo was dead silent the whole way.
With two days before our first official game I’m definitely ready. Playing water polo in a European league has been a dream as long as I can remember, and to be in Italy was always the number one choice. While my shoulder increasingly hurts with every practice, I know that with a couple Advil and a whole lot of adrenaline it’s not going to hold me back in the slightest. Plus for some strange reason I feel that I’ve actually been shooting better in practice than I have in a long time. I’m ready to drop some buckets Saturday and get the “W”!

Bus #10

PUT A SOCK IN IT

“Roosil, Let me see….”, the first words I hear when I see most of my teammates. They always know the answer but they love making fun of me. I grab my pant leg and lift it exposing my plain, $7.99 for a six-pack generic white socks. I immediately hear the chorus of “nooooooo”, “whyyyyyyy?”. Then they take turns asking if I like girls, “What, don’t u want to meet Italian girls?” “You only like little boys and goats?”. They have told me over and over again that wearing plain white socks is the biggest sign that I will never meet a nice Italian girl. From what they say it’s the equivalent of rolling into a bar with your grandpa’s suspenders, a pocket-protector, and a big kiss from your mom still on your cheek. No matter how good your game is, it’s just not going to happen.
They on the other hand wear any type of random sock that you might find in your dad’s business drawer. Crazy patterns, ridiculous colors, anything but white. Of course no one can ever see my socks because I’m always sporting jeans but they love just making sure I know how stupid I look. I would say it’s starting to piss me off but now I love wearing whities just to see them freak out. After three weeks and the language barrier fading I’ve finally gotten them to explain why white socks are such a sin. They say it is because it makes you look lazy, like you don’t care about your presentation. They say white socks are for the morning when you walk your dog and no one will see you. They are just for when you want to relax and feel comfortable. So after working it around in my head, it’s probably most similar to wearing sweatpants to a bar or club. When I finally figured it out, it kind of made sense, kind of.
Still I hold strong to my roots and vouch to wear my white socks like the stubborn and I guess style less American that I am. I will break down these prejudice ideals and show them that everyone should be able to pick up a girl in a bar, no matter what color their socks are!

Bus #10

Sundays are for Family and Football

This last Sunday, our goalie Cano invited me over to his house to have lunch with his family and then to go with him and his friends to a soccer game. I didn’t know what I was excited for more, the food or going to my first European soccer match. Both lived up to their hype and I’m still undecided on what was the highlight of the day.
Cano picked me up on this ugly rainy morning and laughed when I asked if I should bring my umbrella. He said where we are going to be sitting in the stadium u don’t use an umbrella no matter what the weather is like. You have to stand there and show your team support by weathering it out. “If they are playing in the rain, we must stand there in the rain”, he told me. It kind of got me pumped up.
He first took me back to his place where I met his parents, brother and his two grandmothers. A very nice family but no one spoke a word of English besides Cano and his younger brother. We wasted no time and sat down at the table right away to feast. Cano told me that his mom was worried that there wouldn’t be enough food so she ended up cooking way too much. Perfect!
Cano’s mother prepared two main dishes and both were amazing. The first was a bacon wrapped rabbit, yup rabbit. First time for me and I’m sorry to all of you cotton tail lovers I don’t see it being my last. Sooo good. On the side we had a large serving of polenta, which is reminds me of a mix of something between mashed potatoes and cornbread if that makes any sense. Anyways when you put a little of the sauce from the meat on top it def rivals your side dish from last Thursday. After eating Peter we had some of the softest and delicious steak with more polenta and sauce. After a few rounds of each I was beyond stuffed, but of course I found myself some room for desert, homemade apple pie!
When the meal was finished we had our coffee “correzione”. Which means you add alcohol to it, usually the Italian liquor grappa( which I still think tastes like straight petrol). A little booze in my coffee, you think I complained? Hey even his grandmas were putting a little sauce in, I had to try.
After the goodbye “Ciaos”, Cano and I headed over to his friends house that lived only a block from the stadium. There we had another coffee “correzione”, a couple more shots of the petrol and grabbed a beer for the walk. Hey it was raining and freezing, you better believe I was going to make sure I was warm on the inside, especially since they didn’t serve any more “beverages” once you entered the grounds. Upon entering the stadium you have to show your ticket and show your Identification to make sure the names match. When you purchase your ticket, they actually scan all your information into a database so that they can make sure you are liable for anything stupid you do at the game. I quickly realized this was probably a good idea.
The “football” not soccer match as I’m constantly reminded, was between Atalanta of Bergamo and AC Roma of Rome. This is the best league in Italy and had some of the top players in the world playing…too bad the only two player names I recognized (Totti and Rise) were on the other team. The tensions between the teams are so high that the police didn’t even let the Roma fans enter the stadium on fear of massive fights.

Cano and all his friends always sit in a section called Curva Nord which is the area where all of the “ultras” (hardcore fans or hooligans) gather. Singing, lighting fireworks and flares, and fighting. Every fan has some type of team gear so Cano took me to go buy a team scarf so that I could now represent my new club and hopefully not get pneumonia.
There are no seat numbers only sections and when you are in Curva Nord you stand the whole match. The game started and so did the “ultras”. With the rain pouring down they only sang louder. 30,000 drunken fanatics singing in unison about the other team’s wives and mothers, it brought tears to my eyes. This is how professional sports is supposed to be. Not in some press box with mini weenies, but out in the rain taking pulls of hidden flasks. This was my type of party.
Atalanta went up early but gave up the lead at the beginning of the second half. Despite a well played and exciting final 15 mins, Bergamo lost the match 2-1. As bad as it is to say, I didn’t really care who won the match, I just loved being there, taking in everything, trying to sing along and jumping up and down the whole time. I plan on returning every home game.

-Bus #10