Alpini

While the loss to Torino was pretty devastating there was an upside to the weekend. The annual gathering for the Alpini was last weekend? "What the hell are the Alpini?", you are probably asking.

And I will respond by saying, "Stop being so lazy, Google it you bum". Actually as Ive mentioned it before, use wikipedia...credible source or not it got me through college.

Ok, Ok i will help out...
The Alpini are a division of the Italian military that specialize in mountain terrain combat. The are most notorious for their alpine battles in the first and second World War, but now they are known for getting together once a year and having a huge party. How big? Well the town of Bergamo is normally 100,000 people. Last weekend during the festival there were over 500,00!

Every year they pick a new city in Italy to have the celebration, the last time it was held in Bergamo was 27 years ago. I definitely picked a good year to come. The guys on my team tried to prepare me for what it was going to be like but it didn't do justice.

They (the Alpini) first started showing up on wed last week. Because there is obviously not the accommodations for an additional 400,000 people at the local Holliday Inn these guys instead used the skills they learned while roughing it in the Alps. They started setting up tents everywhere. And when i say everywhere I mean EVERYWHERE. Not just in camping sights, or even public parks...a little grassy patch on the median in the center of the road, if you weren't there by Friday you weren't gonna get it.

Of course there was a parade on Sunday morning(actually it lasted from 9am to 9pm straight with over 150,00 people), but that wasn't why these guys were here. They were here to DRINK! 6:30 in the morning throughout the town you could here their version of "Taps" being played at Evey tent congregation...this wasn't to just open your eyes but get that bottle to your lips. Keep in mind, almost all these guys are in their late 70s to 80s. LEGENDS!

The festivities went on throughout the day. The whole downtown was shut off to traffic and people walked around to all the different tents where you were always invited to sit down and have some wine or grappa, sausage and listen to an old war story. By Night it was total madness as the youth of Bergamo added to the debauchery. The whole town was RAGING. You literaly couldn't move, every square inch of downtown was taken by someone with an open bottle in hand and a smile on their face.

Surprisingly no fights or public damage...everyone just wanted to have a good time.

Bus #10

Taking Photos

I swear all of us were in the team van as we traveled the 2 1/2 hour road trip to Torino, but when the game began it sure felt like no one was there. Actually we were missing Alessio, our most experienced and probably our strongest offense threat. The lack of offense became a major problem as we struggled the whole game to get on the board.


The pool its self was awesome. Built in the early 30s it was constructed with classic fascist architecture under the direction of Mussolini as the premier water polo and diving pool in Italy. There is a special balcony from where I took the above picture where Mussolini is said to have sat and watched many of the contests. Every water polo player will tell you that you can always feel the history when playing in a pool and this had a lot. Everyone on my team reminded again and again that it was the most beautiful pool in Italy. I have been fortunate to play in some pretty amazing pools, and this was right up there with the best of them.


The local fans had come out to support their team in a crucial match that had huge playoff implications. They brought their flags, drums, songs and insults. It always bums me out that I never get to take a picture of the game-time environment because I'm in the pool playing. Sometimes during a stoppage in play I try to soak it all in really quick and take the best mental snap-shot I can. I find myself laughing, "What the hell is this mustache wearing American doing playing in an 80 year old pool, 10,000 miles away from home, getting yelled at in a language I cant understand by people I will never see again?" These are my favorite moments. These are the mental Polaroids I never want to lose.

I am trying to write about anything but the game because as you probably guessed, It didn't turn out so well. We went down early and never were able to recover. As cliche as the old sports saying is, its spot on, "They wanted it more than we did". They swam harder, were more physical, and played smarter. We made a late push but ultimately lost the contest 9 to 7.

I worked my ass off like always and felt strong about my play finishing again with no exclusions or goals from their center.

With the loss our playoff hopes are mathematically finished. I am beyond sad that I wasn't able to give this team a full healthy season like I planned. I am positive that we would have been in a better position if I had. "Shoulda Woulda Coulda"is not a game that you should play though. I am just thankful for the amazing opportunity that I have had.

Hey there are still two games left and I have my 2 biggest fans coming to chant some insults at the other team that I can finally understand. I'm so excited to have my parents come out and see the friends, team and city that has taken me in!


Bus #10

POOR PADOVA

The meal from the night before knocked me out cold till 11:45 the next day, which is a huge feat considering how MANY bells sound off on Sunday mornings. These aren't your normal 7am- 7 "DONGS"...No they take their bell ringing very serious here. They have about 8 belles in every church tower (which are located practically on every other block) and when its time to ring they go on and on in no particular order for about 5 minuets. They then repeat this process every 15 minuets to remind everyone that's not in church that they should be.

I quickly showered and got ready because Sessa picked me up at noon to go to his grandparents house for lunch. I was really excited not only for the food but to see his family (Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and of course the dishwashing dog, Tango). I hadn't seen most of them since they so nicely took me in for Christmas over three months earlier.

Another feast to say the least. His grandmother served sausage stuffed raviolli which she had freshly made herself that morning. I couldn't have been more content, I pushed back from the table and started thanking his family in the limited quiver of Italian words that I possess. They stared at me confused and I quickly turned to Sessa to see if I had said anything wrong. "That was only the first dish", he informed me. I looked down only to see that a full plate of meat and diced potatoes had magically appeared in front of me! His rosie faced grandpa, who had been my drinking buddy on Christmas kept trying to pour me a glass of wine, but I told him that I had a game in a few hours. His expression told me that I couldn't have made a worse excuse and he filled my cup anyways. Just one little glass...OK maybe 2.

When there wasn't any more food on my plate and definitely no more room in my belly, Sessas mom and aunt then brought out 3 cakes...THREE! When I noticed that one of them happend to be the "Famous Tiramisu", somehow like magic space opened up in my stomach. I think it was even better the second time around as my relationship with this dessert had grown. It was definitely more than just lust, it was LOVE in every sense of the word. I then proceeded to cheat on it 5 minuets later when I tried the other 2 cakes. Hey, I didn't want to be rude.

A nap on the couch as we watched the soccer match was more than necessary if I was going to be in any condition to play the game that evening. The only thing that woke me up was a groan so loud you could hear it coming from miles. The home team Atalanta had just scored on its self, solidifying that they would be dropped to the second division the following year. You could literally hear the whole town of Bergamo crying. I made a mental note of the player who had committed the sin and decided to check the obituaries the following morning.

7:30pm. Game Time!
Number 2 ranked Padova strutted on to our pool deck with a walk that told us that not only did their shit not stink, but being here in general was a huge waste of their time. I scanned their line-up for their big Brut..."There's my B!%ch". Another game, another Croatianon center.

Right from the beginningng we came out firing. Going down a few quick goals early and facing an intense hard-nosed defense was not what Padova had in mind for nice Sunday afternoon. The game quickly turned physical and then violent as a few players on both teams were ejected from the contest with brutalities.

Minuets passed, goals were scored, punches were thrown, tempers flared, but when the final second ticked off the game clock the home crowd cheeredrd. We got the "W" in a 10-9 decision and handed Padova only their 3rd loss of the season. Their coach after the game actually complained to our president saying, "Why did you guys try so hard?, Its not like you are going to make the playoffs".

Actually....We might! With only 1 point behind Torino in that final 4th place playoff spot we are in a pretty good position. Especially since we face Torino this comming Saturday!

Oh yeah...once again no goals or kickouts from their center.

Bergamo on the War Path "HOO HAA"!

Bus#10

Grigliazatta

Italian Labor Day was on Saturday. Personally I found this beyond Ironic. A National Holiday for the workers, on a weekend....a day they were going to get off anyways. WOW did they get screwed on this one.

As a result of the Holiday, our game was rescheduled to play on Sunday instead. This opened up a rare Saturday evening for us to celebrate. Anyone that knows me, knows that means FOOD...More specifically Bar-B-Que or Grigliazatta!

Roberto invited myself along with a few other players and some friend of his own to his Grandmothers house up in the hills of Bergamo. The home its self was amazing, dating easily over a hundred years. It was awesome seeing the progression of the house. The oldest part, the entrance was made with old stones (as if there are such things as "new stones"), then you could see that more rooms were added in brick, and finally the backyard was mostly stucco. The back was definitely the best with a small vineyard, great view and an amazing outdoor fireplace.

Appetizers of bruschetta, sliced salami, cheeses and polenta would have easily been enough to send me away with a smile but then I spied the MEAT. Sausage, Ribs, sausage, and more SAUSAGE. I wanted to dive in right then and there but they told me it wasn't cooked and I should probably wait.

And wait I did. Their style of BBQn is a bit different than tossing a match on a stack of Kingsford light-anywhere charcoal and waiting 15mins. Here they make a wood fire and keep adding wood. They let all the wood burn down to the bright red embers and break it up into tiny little chunks. Then they bring the embers to the front of the fireplace and spread them out creating heating area where the place the meat which is waffled inside a mettle grill directly on top of. If you don't understand, I recommend just coming over to Italy and experiencing it first hand.

When the meat was finally done about an hour later we all sat down at a long table, "Chin Chind" our vino and dug into the feast. I ate so much meat I'm pretty sure I'm going to be Hoovered for a DAM week. I didn't think anything could possibly make the night better, until they brought out the desert.

Have you ever had Tiramisu? NO you haven't. You may think you have, but I assure you that pre-frozen thing you orderd from Buca di Beppos was NOT Tiramisu. I thought I had had it before too, until I had Sessas Moms home made Tiramisu. This made everything else Ive ever had taste like Hostess Twinkie. I could write a whole blog on just the tiramisu and it would probably end up being my longest post so far. The layers, the flavors, the cream, the chocolate shavings sprinkled on top. It will regain your faith in God.

The Food Coma finally set in and the talk about the favorite Italian board game Risk to be played informed me that it was time for my exit. With a belly that demanded 2 more notches from my belt and a dumb smile from ear to ear I drove home to my apartment not sure if I was going to be able to play in the game the next day and not sure if I even cared!

Bus #10

BUt IM SLOOOW

Heading into Saturdays game we knew it wouldnt be an easy one. Sitting close to the bottom of the standings, Como probably wanted the win more than we did (the bottom 2 teams from the season get moved to a lower division). They started the game like it too. In front of a smaller crowd at a very nice facuility in the city of Como, we got put onto our heals early.

2 goals right away on counter attacks and this pathetic little croud quickly turned into an Annoying little croud. We finaly "pulled our heads out" and woke up. Our offense rallied back with some strong half court and even a few counter attacks of our own. Half time it was all tied up 6-6.

Starting the 3rd period we had a man in the penelty box so it was really important that we win the opening sprint so that we would not be on defense with a man down. For some reason unknown to me they decided to give ME the task of retrieving it. When my coach told me to sprint for the ball I was more than confused. Dont get me wrong, in practice I can win all the swimsets thanks to my handy flipturns and probably because all the Italians are wondering why I am trying so hard...in practice. But if we were to have a sprint, because my stroke looks more like im having a sesiure than trying to go anywhere, I would probably finish somewhere in the lower half of my team. As we were lining up I asked Michalae "why am I sprinting?" He just looked at me with a blank face. I then told him that I cant sprint, "But I am slow". He responded with a "What?" I shot back at him "I am SLOOOW" only to get another "What?" from him. "I am F%(K&£g SLOW!", then the referee blew the whistle and I was off to the races. With 80 to 1 odds I obviously didnt win the sprint but I made up for it about a min later scoring a goal on the next offense. With a 6-7 lead we never looked back.

After a strong week of practice, and getting my strength and conditioning back, I once again was giving a starting position and the overly demanding and underappreciated job of guarding the other teams center. I dont know what my team was thinking getting some offensivly handicapped player who lies about being 6feet tall when it seems that every other team went out and used their foriegn roster spot to sign a mamouth of a center. This week I had to wrap up with a white Karl Malone look alike from Croatia. Only problem was he had some 5ft 11 and a 1/2 inch annoying American making sure this guy didnt deliver. Dont worry im not about to start talking in the third person like the real Karl Malone, I should really be taking this time to praise my team because our defense as a unit is what would prove to stop the Como attack throughout the game.

No kickouts, no goals from Karl on me and we easly dominated the second half winning 13 to 7.

Michalae came up to me 20 mins after the game ended laughing and said, "Ohhhhh You are F&$k!çg SLOOOOW"...The translation had just clicked.

BUS #10

BGR

Pumped is an understatement of how I felt Saturday night as I drove to the pool for my first game back. Then when Queen came on the radio singing "We are the Champions" I knew it had to be an omen! As the song went on I got more into it, cresendioing with every verse. By the end of the song I was in full rock out mode singing at the top of my lungs "NO TIME FOR LOSERS; BECAUSE WE ARE THE CAMPIONS" and getting plenty of stares as I putted alnog the rode in the smartcar getting passed and honked at. This would end up being the high point of the night.
Matching up against a stronger Camolgi team, I could see it in my teammates eyes when I arived at the pool that they didnt think there was much chance for victory. But I had just heard the radio tell me that I was a champion so I was confident that we would still pull it off.
We had our routine half hour team talk about matchups and strategy, none of which I understood but would be translated to me later by Roberto in under 2 mins . Im sure he didnt leave anything out...
When the meeting ended I headed out to the pool to start some pregame stretches and drills. The oposing team started to walk in and I imediatly started looking for the BGR. One by one they came out of the visitor s locker room, normal....,normal....,normal....,FREAK. OK so maybe he wasnt 6ft8in 280 but he definetly looked like he should be wearing a Met-Rex tank top and heading to a Worlds Strongest Man competition. The kind of guy that turns sideways to walk through doorways, because he acually has to. GREAAAAAT this is going to be fun I sighed to my self sarcasticly, but then I Quickly remembered that I was a CHAMPION and started feeling better.

The game started and so did their scoring with their Hungarian Lefty showing us why he has an Olympic Gold medal at home and why we dont. They found the back of the net on their first two posessions puting us in a quick 2-0 hole. On our next offensive we earned a man advantage oppertunity an I ended up scoring a goal from the post. Unfortunetly that was as close as the game would get all night. We stayed reletivly close but ultimetly finshed with an L, 14 to 9.
So much for Queen and for me comming back and being the savior to the season. The loss doesnt completely put us out of the playoff hunt but we didnt make things any easier for ourselves.
Ohh yeah, the post game Pizza was still amazing.

Bus #10

The Bus and Blog are Back

I must star with an apology, I am sincerely sorry to all the POLOandPASTA faithful for the coma like intermission on this blog. I left it about as quick as my shoulder left its socket in the Viagevano game, ultimately tearing my labrum and sidelining me for what I thought (and was told) would be the remainder of the season. I didn't even inform you on what happend, although I was surprised to hear that my injury didn't flash across your TV as ESPN Now Update, and Skip Bayless wasn't debating the next morning on 1st and 10 on how my injury might play out for the rest of Erestampa Bergamos season. The quick summary is I tore my labrum and was told by doctors in Italy that I would need surgery. I did not want to agree with them so I packed my bags and headed back home where doctors state side suggested that I try the physical therapy approach. After nearly 3 months of hard work and the support and encouragement of my family some Close friends, I told the team that I was ready to return and fight for them in the final 5 weeks of season. A week later I was boarding a British Airways flight and headed back to Italy.

Arriving 2 days ago, I was greeted at the airport by the team president Dario, who upon first seeing me exit the baggage claim shook his head and laughed. I dint think many of the team thought when I said my goodbyes in January that they would ever see my face again, let alone come back to finish out the season. We headed straight to the pool where after many more Ciaos and hugs it was time for practice and of course the customary Tuesday 15 x 200s that I missed so dearly.

When practice was finished I was more than excited to rush over to the restaurant where I saw Sergio and began my rigorus Italian diet of Pizza 5 nights a week. The only wierd part about comming back was that it was not wierd at all, infact it felt like I never left. I even got my same apartment and the same clown car (I wont lie, I was pretty excited to be mobbing around the streets of Bergamo in the Smart Car again).

As for the real reason of my return, to help my team make the playoffs, the road will be quite tricky. We currently sit in 5th place and need to move up 1 spot to 4th. Doesnt sound too hard but when they are ahead by two wins and we only have 5 games left (4 against the top 4 teams) it will take a great effort to pull it off.

It all starts tomorrow with our game against current 1st place Camolgi. The main thing that I keep hearing over and over is that they have a Huge Gay Russian. HUGE as in 6ft 8in and 280lbs muscle, Gay as in he literly plays for the "other team", and Russian as in, well Russian. Now dont get me wrong I have nothing against gays, come on I voted NO on Prop 13, but when its my job to match up and wrestle the whole game with this man-handeling boheamoth, it would make even the most open man queezy. It didnt help that the first thing my coach asked me when I saw him was, "Are you ready to sacraffice your A$*h&7£ on Saturday for the team?" I first responded with "yes" and then a confused "no" and felt like I was in the middle of a stupid 1st graders joke with no safe answer.

Besideds the BGR (who has played long enough in Italy that he has naturalised), they had an American who didnt quite work out. About the same time that I left the country in January his team gave him the boot and picked up Gabor Kis. Who is Gabor Kis? Just a Hungarian, Olympic Gold Medal, and a nasty Left handed shot...No Big Deal.

As impressive as their lineup is and as difficult it is going to be to pull off the win, I couldnt think of anything I would rather want than to be than back here in Bergamo with my guys, ready to go to battle again.

Bus #10