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[FM08] American Calcio

Started on 23 June 2015 by tenthreeleader
Latest Reply on 8 August 2016 by tenthreeleader
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Tuesday, February 5

“Empires of the future are empires of the mind and if we dream they do become built.” – Colin Murphy

I had the opportunity to gain a touch of England today by the Internet and I have to admit I’m a bit inspired by what I read.

Surfing the Telegraph’s website today, I came across a marvelous article from yesterday’s edition by reporter John Inverdale regarding the lost art of writing for the match program.

As manager, I do get to write comments for the weekly program, and I for one actually write mine. The article I read today talked about whether the big-time managers really do (most of them don’t) and how bad writing really shows through.

To contrast, he used the words of onetime Lincoln City manager Colin Murphy, who was in charge of the club in the 1970s.

Today’s public relations-minded, non-controversial comments are often the stuff of pablum, but Murphy wrote his own thoughts and wrote them quite well.

One phrase Murray used, related by Inverdale, stuck out in my mind. So it’s at the top of today’s entry.

“Empires of the future are empires of the mind and if we dream they do become built.”

I read that phrase about a dozen times. That must have been a hell of a match program because those words impress me to no end.

What I want to create, both with this club and hopefully with my own career, is an empire of the future. I can see it in my mind’s eye and I’m not afraid to dream it. I may well never get there, but I’m going to dream it and see if it can’t get built. If not here, then somewhere.

# # #

My dreaming over, we returned to training today as well, and are preparing for the visit of twelfth-placed Legnano to Euganeo on Sunday.

The bookies have installed us as a prohibitive favorite – we are 1-4 to get the result. I’m not at all sure I care for that, as the expectations will surely provide a double-edged sword for my players. And I’m not being positive.

The one edge will be expectation and the other might well be overconfidence, as we performed quite well indeed last weekend after going a goal down. Neither one is pleasant to contemplate. If we aren’t careful we’ll fall on our swords and take both edges at the same time.

We started, as we always do, with video and scouting on the first day back from a day off.

Legnano hasn’t been a huge threat in front of goal this season so the defenders are pretty confident, and the video we saw bore out that confidence for the most part. I don’t see them doing a whole lot of damage myself, but the priority for us is to turn that optimism into a clean sheet.

We do have this to consider as well: three of the top four sides in the league this week are all playing lower-ranked opposition. We host the twelfth-placed team in the table while Venezia hosts 15th placed Ternana and Sassuolo hosts Pro Sesto, who are 14th in the league.

Am I starting to look over my shoulder? How can I not? For me, though, the goal is to make it look like I’m not.

Today in training, I tried to create a light mood. That was easier to do with a four-point lead, of course, but players read the papers too and Emiliani hasn’t written anything nasty in nearly a whole week.

I spent the better part of the afternoon session trying to settle down Donadoni, who didn’t react well to some of the happy things I said after Sunday’s match.

Players can be notoriously fickle regarding those sorts of things and it’s a real source of frustration to me that some of these players won’t let me be optimistic.

You can’t crack the whip with modern players and you can’t coddle them if you want to keep charge of your changing room. The alternative is to say nothing at all and media won’t let you get away with that. So what I’d like to see is a mature approach to praise and criticism from the players under my charge.

The best way to do that, in my view, is to win something and see what that does. I’ve had a couple of team talks that have gone over well but I don’t have the reputation yet that I need to have if the players are going to start reacting to comment the way I want them to. That’s just how it is. Winning things is the only way to change it.

# # #
Wednesday, February 6
Today’s hot topic of conversation was the FA’s warning to Cavese and manager Renato Cioffi – not over the complaint he made about the officiating in Sunday’s match, but for how the post-match handshake was handled.

They were pretty strident about their opposition, and I understood it since I thought Rabito was offside as well. But they chose to take it out on us and even though I didn’t complain, Sestaro did.

I understand that emotions run high in this game. I’ve been pretty upset at officials at times myself this season. Still, simple statistics show we can have few complaints about how the officials have treated us this season, at least from the penalty spot.

Where we haven’t gotten much joy is in the cards we see each week. We aren’t a dirty team but at this point we are still a fairly undisciplined one in terms of emotion.

I have players, like Gentile, who really shouldn’t be allowed to tackle an opposing player. I think if I just gave Andrea a scythe to carry around he could do the same job on the pitch and never have to leave his feet.

Today the media wanted my reaction to the Cavese announcement and I was nonplussed.

“Renato and his staff were showing emotion but I don’t hold that against him,” I said. “I would have preferred a little better ending to the game between the teams if for no other reason than we hold nothing against them.”

“Your chairman said he received an apology today.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Fair play is important and even though there are times when every team feels hard done by, you just have to dust yourself off and move on. I wish them the best of good fortune.”

# # #

“You are way too gracious, do you know that?”

Patty smiled at me from my couch, where she was curled up reading the afternoon edition of the paper. “Sometimes I think I’d reach over and slap some of the people in this game if they said things like that about me.”

“What things?” I asked, looking at her with a happy smile.

“Oh, today’s story mentions a comment in the Salerno press about an American who likes Northerners being not much to write home about. Or words to that effect.”

I frowned. “Cori contro”, I sighed, and she looked at me quizzically.

“Come again?”

“It means to sing against the opposition,” I said. “They love it here. Look, you’re an NFL fan, right?”

“You know that,” she said. “You know I love the Chicago Bears.”

“That can be cured at birth now,” I joked, and she gave me a playful scowl. “So what’s the best thing that can happen on a Sunday if the Bears don’t win?”

“The Green Bay Packers lose,” she immediately answered.

“There you go. Cori contro,” I said. “You don’t always root for your team as much as you root against your rival. And here, north-south is about as hot as it gets sometimes – hotter even than some derbies. The south doesn’t care for the north much and vice versa. You have to be careful how you talk about it sometimes. It’s like wearing the wrong colors in the wrong part of town. You know better than that, right?”

“You bet I do,” she answered.

“Good for you,” I replied. “Because now that you’re here, and now that you’re with me again, you need to be careful how you go back to Venice and with whom. There are people who will make comments.”

“I know. I don’t want to leave you again and believe me, I have no intention of doing that.”

“That’s great, but you do need to be careful,” I said. “For both of us.”

# # #
Thursday, February 7
Muzzi’s recent cold spell set tongues to wagging in our media. Now they have a new target.

Varricchio, who has been our leading scorer all season, hasn’t netted since the Venezia match a month ago today, so his performance is now under scrutiny.

Most players go through criticism at one time or another due to dips in form, and players handle it differently.

Muzzi handled it with boisterous confidence. But Varricchio, who as I mentioned earlier has been a terror on our away day poker days, is much quieter about it.

I’m curious to see how he handles it. He has been quite successful on the pitch but he doesn’t possess Muzzi’s skill set. He works his tail off for everything he gets. I also handle his personality differently than Roberto’s. I can be more direct with Varricchio since he handles plain talk a little better.

Muzzi has been places in this game that make him special on our squad. As more of a blue-collar player, Varricchio has a different mind-set.

He handles things differently and I talk with him differently. He knows he’s under the gun now but I told him today that if he keeps working hard, he’s going to pull through.

“Don’t let Emiliani get you down,” I said. “If I did that, I’d be flat as a pancake by now.”

He didn’t get the American euphemism, but when I slapped the palms of my hands together, he got the message.

Today’s training was interrupted by cold rain, which cut things much shorter than I had hoped. We have reasonably good training facilities but they aren’t big enough to handle 45 players like we have on the senior and youth sides.

So I had a choice - either send the u-20s home, or interrupt senior squad training. I don’t like either option but today I had no choice but to let the u-20s be dismissed for the day so the senior squad could work on elements of the game plan for Sunday’s match.

So we worked indoors – short passing was about all we could manage but that didn’t bother me since I’d like to do a better job maintaining possession anyway. That is part of the plan, especially when we play at home.

Technically, we are getting better each game. Tactically, we are doing better each game. However, we still aren’t firing on all cylinders in the attacking third and that’s the last thing we have to fix.

We aren’t going to be able to play like Arsenal and pass the ball until we can walk it into our opponents’ goal. We’re going to have to be able to take our chances sooner or later. It has been a season long problem.

Legnano is a club we ought to be able to handle. We still know it.

# # #
Friday, February 8
Today I sat down to write a brief commentary for the match program. Perhaps Colin Murphy’s words written so long ago provided some inspiration.

Or, perhaps not. I’ll leave that up to the reader to decide, I guess. My whole point is that I’d like to reduce expectations on the players from outside Euganeo, even while I myself ratchet up a bit of pressure to perform in front of goal.

I should be fair, though. We really haven’t had many of the kinds of ‘soft’ goals that other clubs seem to get. We’ve really had to work for everything we’ve gotten from open play this season. Those kinds of breaks can make all the difference in a season and unlike things such as officiating, they don’t always “even out”.

Clubs can go weeks and even months without getting the friendly roll of the ball or the bounce off the post they need to break a losing skid or win a game in the dying moments. You can’t pressure players to get breaks, of course. But you can work with them to execute and that’s taking up a lot of my time nowadays.

I wrote, to try to get more than one message across at the same time, with the actual message of course written in Italian:

"Welcome to Euganeo for today’s home match against Legnano.

The last few weeks have been comparatively kind to us as we try to stay top of Serie C1A. I don’t need to tell you that today’s match is important, but you should understand today’s match in context.

Today’s match is our 22nd league match of the season, placing us two-thirds of the way through the fixture list. We are in an enviable position but to stay there will require more work than we have contemplated to date.

We have received criticism of late for two perceived flaws in our game: first, a maddening tendency to draw and second, an inability to score at certain vital points in our matches.

The context in which I would like you the supporter to view today’s match is simple: one of 34. While we have not been able to obtain the desired result in each of our matches, there is one category where we have a lower number than everyone else in our league: losses.

This team has shown resiliency in a number of ways throughout this long season, most notably in the ability to drag results – yes, even draws – out of places it could not have done even one year ago. Those who have criticized these players seem to be of the opinion that we should score two or three in the first ten minutes of each match and pull away slowly.

Obviously, that’s not always possible. While I would like to see our future growth highlighted by strong attacking play, the development of this club is predicated on more than simply filling the other team’s net with goals. Novara has tried that approach and it has not been enough to stay ahead of this team in the table.

The process by which the board expects this club to be a significant force in our league was expected to take two seasons to bear fruit. So far, it has taken two-thirds of my first season here to have a degree of success. This is down to a variety of factors.

The players deserve credit. And as we prepare to host Legnano today we need to take fair stock of what we have done. We’ve become an organized, cohesive team from the goal outward. We are very hard to score against and this is what really does win championships.

The players know I expect better from them in front of the opposition goal, but we have met and exceeded expectations in front of our own. That is our most important task because holding your opponent scoreless guarantees at least a point in the table.

We have to dream. If you don’t dream, you shouldn’t be in this business. Our dream is to get back to Serie A with this club and we realize that before that can happen, we have to grow.

Everyone at this club – from players to coaches to board members to office staff – needs to dream about where they want to be, and then think about what they will do to make it happen.

We can do it. But we have to think big. We will encounter setbacks along the way but the joy of victory comes not always from the winning, but from overcoming the obstacles set in your path.

It starts today. We relish the challenge."


# # #
Saturday, February 9
The favorites for tomorrow’s match just got even heavier.

Our odds have been lowered to 1-6 for Legnano and it seems rather amazing to me that enough action was placed on us at the old odds to make them lower still further.

I worry about things like that even though I should try not to. Still, if football managers didn’t ulcerate themselves the night before matches, none of them would ever leave the business to do something sane, like run away to join the circus. That would mean fewer job opportunities for people like me. So I guess I should be grateful, right?

My job is to worry. And with mid-table opposition coming in for the purpose of wrecking someone else’s season, that means I need to do my job.

Even though Patty tried her very best to soothe me this evening, there was one overriding idea that I just couldn’t shift out of my head.

The idea is that we haven’t put two solid matches in a row together for longer than I’d care to admit. We played very well in the Sassuolo rematch but since then we’ve been just barely good enough – or recently in the Manfredonia rematch, not very good at all.

If it’s possible to be dissatisfied while topping the table, I’m nearly at that point. We’re capable of so much more – so tonight I spent a little time counting my blessings.

We’re top of our league, I have quite a beautiful lady resting in my arms, and there is a momentary cease-fire in place with my main local nemesis. All we need to do is keep winning. We may yet prevail.
# # #

Sunday, February 10
Padova v Legnano – Serie C1A

Two points lost. No question about it. The 1-6 home favorite crashed, and there’s nobody in a white shirt happy about it.

I’m not even going to say we deserved three points, despite dominating the statistics sheet in real and meaningful ways. We didn’t dominate the scoreboard, that was for certain, and we conceded in the last ten minutes to send another good crowd home disappointed.

I am starting to think that we seize up before bigger crowds. When we came out of the tunnel to play the match this afternoon, 5,935 rather loud supporters greeted us. The vast majority of them wore red and white.

I turned to Masolini as we took our places in the home dugout. “Now this is a little more like it,” I said, and he smiled in reply.

“A little bit of work to do yet, Rob,” he answered. “Actually, a lot of work to do yet.”

I agreed completely, and the match kicked off. We started out like the proverbial house on fire, pressing the Legnano back line and forcing them into hurried decisions. Soon the visitors were reduced to lumping the ball forward to simply clear their lines. It was a solid start and we took advantage of it with some of that good fortune I spoke of earlier this week.

It came, not surprisingly, off the boot of the excellent Caputo. He wound the ball past both left-sided defenders – first in the midfield and then at the back – before trying an early ball into the box for Muzzi.

I have always rated the importance of communication in the back line as a vital consideration, and this time our visitors didn’t have much of it. Keeper Vincenzo Grillo first decided to come for the ball and then frantically backtracked as he saw his defenders, and Muzzi, all converging on the same spot.

Grillo was in no-man’s-land and when the ball flashed past everyone in the mob of players at the edge of his six-yard box, he knew he had a serious problem. Muzzi had played a simply brilliant dummy.

Grillo flapped helplessly at the ball, which actually bounced in front of his feet before bounding over his shoulder and into the goal. It was a fortunate goal, an extremely ugly goal, and the crowd loved it.

Caputo did a quick little two-step in happiness as the players converged on him, celebrating the opening goal. The supporters have taken to him in a big way, as I’ve mentioned earlier, and he seems to feed off that emotion. We were a goal to the good, applying pressure, and had found a rather freakish way to the goal on top of it all.

We were poised to impose our will on the match. I couldn’t have asked for better. All we needed was a second goal and the floodgates might well have opened.

Five minutes later, our chance arrived. Caputo embarked on another foray into Legnano’s penalty area and defender Mirko Cudini got a handful of his shirt as he flashed by. The penalty was given and Baú took the ball.

With the second goal hanging in the balance, Baú responded with a resounding drive that smacked against Grillo’s left-hand post. The ball was cleared into touch and I felt like tearing out my hair.

After the latest penalty miss, our heads drooped. I still can’t understand that.

We were generating chances, but then we just put our game into neutral. While I paced the touchline, trying to figure out why we had lost our urgency, we stopped creating chances. We had Legnano on the ropes and like a boxer pulling his punches, we held up our sagging opponent.

The halftime whistle blew and I headed to the changing room shaking my head. Legnano hadn’t had a shot on target in the first 45 minutes and it was starting for all the world to look like our fluke goal had been just that – a fluke.

The players sat, and I stood in the middle of the room. I had a quick decision to make.

“Well, you’re ahead, anyhow,” I began. “But what do I have to say to get you guys to put your boots on someone’s necks?”

The words hit home. I think some of the players expected they’d get a bit of a roasting and that’s what they got – just a bit of a roasting.

“Defensively, you’ve been perfect and I can’t fault you a scrap,” I said. “But you need to get your heads down in their half of the field and make something happen. A second goal would end this match and we all know it. Yet when we get the possession, we aren’t doing anything with it. If you want to let these guys hang around, you’re doing a great job of it.”

I knew that talk would leave a bad taste, though, so I resumed my positive bent next.

“Positionally, you’re fine. You’re in their passing lanes and I love what I’m seeing out of the back four when they try to go over the top. Just finish them off. That’s what you need to do for yourselves. Make it happen!”

We then headed out for the second half, I tried once again to pick up the dispirited Baú, and as a team we responded by really stinking up the joint. The team talk had the opposite effect from what I intended, and that left me as officially out of ideas as my team appeared to be.

Legnano started to gain more and more possession as the half continued. I slowed us up, moved to a short passing game to try to see more of the ball – and nothing seemed to work.

Finally, on the hour mark, I figured that going defensive might be the smarter play, so I removed Gentile in favor of Cotroneo, with Paz giving us a second holding midfielder in a flat four-man midfield.

That stabilized things a bit but we were still getting whipped in possession. We countered them twice and generated our best chance of the second half with fifteen minutes to play as Baú curled a wonderful ball inches over the bar while in full flight from the left-hand channel. Grillo was well beaten but Eder just barely missed high.

Legnano went to a 4-2-4 formation and even brought on reserve striker Samuel Enam Mba as a wide player to try to get more pressure forward with ten minutes to go. We’ve handled 4-2-4 formations before but as I signaled for the defensive line to move back I realized we might well have a nervous finish.

That finish became infuriating just three minutes later when the substitute Mba equalized.

We didn’t pick him up on a late run into the box and with the mayhem their four forwards suddenly created, we had no way to account for him. He got between Cotroneo and Paz, the second holding midfielder, and just like that Orlandoni was fishing the ball out of his net.

The crowd assumed a posture of sullen silence, for which I didn’t blame them a scrap. Red-faced, I called Muzzi over to me.

“Give me 4-3-3,” I said, motioning for Varricchio to come to the sidelines. Music stripped off quickly on the sidelines to give us an additional attacking option and the substitution was made.

Even that didn’t help. Legnano held us off with some ease and as the full-time whistle blew, Euganeo was quiet except for the sounds of the visiting support applauding their players off the pitch.

The coaching staffs exchanged congratulations and we headed back into the changing room. This time the players knew what they’d get and this time, they got it.

“You know, I’ll change out the whole damn team if I have to,” I fumed. “After the goal, we were AWOL offensively. And then eighty minutes of good defense gets wrecked because we don’t pick up a fourth forward who has no business getting to where he got with the ball.

“It was there for you today, fellows. It was there for you to take with both hands. I’m disappointed and if you aren’t too, then you better think hard about playing next week. We’re working tomorrow. Full training at 9:30.”
# # #

“Unhappy? Yes, Stefano, you could say that. You’re going to write it, so I may as well agree with it.”

He smiled at my candor. We haven’t agreed, but there is still an unwritten bit of respect between us in this regard – when we aren’t good, he’s going to write it because he knows the chances are good I’ll agree.

“What about penalties?”

“Maybe I’ll decline the next one,” I said bitterly. “We give chances to players, we give more chances to players, we give third chances to players, and we keep spurning them. The quality of our play is getting us to the penalty spot. It’s tragic that we can’t find a way to score more often from those opportunities we get. It’s just tragic.”

“What will you do about it?” Now Emiliani sensed his column for tomorrow and I managed a smile in response.

“I know what I’m going to do,” I said. “Suppose you write about it tomorrow and I’ll see if you think like a manager.”
# # #

It could have been worse.

We maintained our four-point lead thanks to late results as once again, we were the least bad of the top three teams. 15th-placed Ternana went to Pierluigi Penzo and got a goalless draw against Venezia, while Sassuolo got back on track by defeating 14th placed Pro Sesto 1-0 at home. So we still lead Venezia and Sassuolo by four points, at 47-43, with Novara also in the mix on 42 points to trail by five.

The mistake didn’t cost as much as it might have. As Patty collected her gloomy-minded boyfriend for a late dinner this evening, she remarked on the good parts of the day.

“Nobody got hurt,” she said in an attempt at gallows humor.

I managed a rueful smile.

“We got kicked in our pride,” I said. “That had better hurt someone.”
Padova 1-1 Legnano

# # #
Monday, February 11
I ran the senior squad through full training today.

My sense is that it’s time to work them, but not too hard. We don’t play until Monday this coming week, with a short trip to Citadella on offer.

They’re 15th in the table, falling behind Ternana after a loss to Monza last weekend, and I want a better performance against them than I saw yesterday against a club in the playdown places.

I didn’t crack the whip too hard today – we are still four points clear and there’s really no reason to put the hammer down on these players when they are clear of the league by more than one result.

Still, we missed a huge opportunity yesterday due to the other league results and that was really the main focus of my talk to the players today.

“This game is all about taking what’s given to you,” I said as I walked between the rows of stretching players before the warmup. “Yesterday’s result, as frustrating as it was, didn’t hurt you. We could certainly have helped ourselves had we simply put them away on our own pitch. This week we’re going to get back to some basics.”

# # #

Our mood was pretty good, all things considered. It’s hard to criticize too much when no ground was lost, but what I’m trying to do is turn yesterday’s result into a “shot across the bow” that will hopefully wake us up.

After today’s training session, I retreated to my office. Three different people – including Kate, which I found interesting – had e-mailed me with a link to the Reading Evening Post’s interview story.

Jill Weatherby had reported ‘just the facts’, and it was refreshing.

"Former Royal defender Rob Rigdway is making a real splash for himself in his second career – as manager of Serie C1A side Calcio Padova.

As the only American manager in Italy, Ridgway’s plain-speaking style has led to interesting press as well as to results the club hasn’t seen in some years. He spoke with us from his office late last month.

REP: So how has it been for you? Are you making the adjustment?

RR: I think there’s only so much adjusting you can realistically do. The day you say to yourself ‘right, I’ve got it now’ is the day you should think about a different career. There’s always a new challenge.

REP: How have you found management so far? Have you gotten headaches yet?

RR: There’s always something that will make your head hurt. Whether it’s a suspension of a key player, a key decision that goes against you or sometimes the media, there’s never a dull moment. And that’s why some of us are in our jobs, I guess. I’d prefer my head not hurt so much, but that will happen in this game. How you deal with it is what sets you apart from everyone else.

REP: And what of the media? You haven’t gotten along with everyone in Italy.

RR: And they haven’t gotten along with me. They write what they want and really, I don’t care much about what they write as long as they stick to football. Where I’ve had trouble this season isn’t in the football writing they do, it’s when they stick their noses where they don’t belong.

REP: But surely you encountered that sort of thing here in England?

RR: I did, but I never encountered the level of opposition in England that I get from some quarters here. That’s to be expected to a point because I was never in charge of a club anyplace else, but it would be great if people here would just get behind the squad and what we’re trying to accomplish.

REP: What has been your biggest challenge?

RR: Getting people to rise above self-interest. I have a professional squad in terms of its outlook but we still have moments of madness where the individual gets placed in front of the team and when that’s happened, we’ve stumbled. We have to learn to overcome these types of moments if we are to succeed.

REP: Do you have a model in your managerial career?

RR: Other than my girlfriend? Wait. Wrong kind of model!

REP: You always did have an odd sense of humor.

RR: Okay, so much for levity. As far as a model for my style of management, I’d say no. At the risk of hubris, I’m trying to be my own man. I know a successful side is solid from the goal outward but that is not to say I am a defensive-minded manager. I’ve had a bit of frustration here since I would much prefer to be able to take a game by the scruff of the neck and put an opponent under pressure when we need a goal. But we don’t always do that, so I have to play a more patient style. I wish I could be like a Bernd Schuster, a Jürgen Klinsmann or an Arsene Wenger, who can put great offensive players onto the pitch and watch their opponents start to quake in their boots. Instead, I do what most lower level managers do – I work with blue-collar players who want to succeed and live and die with them. That’s no reflection on my players – it’s just reality.

REP: What has been your biggest frustration?

RR: This whole kerfuffle over my personal life. That really has annoyed me. I realize these comments will probably wind up published in Italy so I’m going to be careful what I say, but it’s really quite unfortunate that people have decided to make this portion of my life such an area of controversy. We’re in a tremendous fight for promotion out of this league, we haven’t lost in twenty straight matches dating back to September, and all some people can seem to care about is who I’m dating and who I’m with when I am not at the office. It’s really none of their business. So it’s nice to talk about football with you.

REP: Do you think you’d ever consider coming back to England?

RR: I don’t even want to speculate. There aren’t jobs open now that I know of, and I have the task of getting Padova promoted. As the media here remind me, that is my only priority and I am determined to see the job through.

REP: I know you still follow English football, though. What do you make of this year’s Reading team?

RR: Full marks to them for leading the league as long as they have. I’m delighted to see the scorelines and quite happy to see the Madejski Stadium full of fans who have something real to support. Steve Coppell has done a marvelous job and my hat’s off to him.

REP: I know you probably don’t want to talk about this but I have to ask the question. The story surrounding you and your former relationship surfaced here, and –

RR: That’s right, Jill. I don’t want to talk about it.

REP: -- but it shows what you were trying to say, doesn’t it? That the scrutiny isn’t wanted?

RR: I don’t want to say anything about it, Jill. Well, except for one thing. I don’t stand on the touchline and yell out which members of the press got divorced over the last year. So I wish they wouldn’t do the same type of thing with me.

REP: Fair enough. Back to football.

RR: Thank you.

REP: Can you earn promotion in your first managerial assignment?

RR: I’d like to think so. This is a decent squad with passionate players and I’ve gotten as much support as the board is able to give me. It’s not Manchester United in terms of finances but I have money for players and so far the buys I’ve made have been good in terms of overall performance. I think we’ll be in there at the end of the season.

REP: All good wishes, Rob, and thank you for your time.

RR: My pleasure. Remember me to the Hob Nobbers."


# # #
Tuesday, February 12
I may have been remembered fondly in Reading, but as I expected the article was printed, in entirety, in our local media today.

So after today’s training session I had to deal with media that believes it has tasted blood.

That wasn’t terribly pleasant for me – they have done no such thing, of course – but it was something I knew I’d have to address when I first made the comments to Jill Weatherby.

The training session was good. Caputo is now going to get his turn from the penalty spot, since he seems to take a good penalty and also has one of the prerequisities of a good taker of penalties – self-confidence.

He knows he can do it and based on the form he’s in, I’m not going to disagree. He did a very nice job today as we did some penalty work before calling it a day, and with as many opportunities as Baú and Muzzi have both squandered from the spot, it’s time to try someone else.

I don’t think we’d be struggling like we are offensively if we had bagged a few more from the spot, for obvious reasons. Confidence begets confidence and if you can’t take the highest-probability chance in the game on a regular basis, eventually it affects everything you do.

I spent a little time with Caputo today to let him know he’s the new guy from the penalty spot, and gave him a bit of encouragement – like he needs it, really. He has settled in beautifully and being given that responsibility cements his place in the team.

Supporters from every quarter are praising the purchase, and even Emiliani hasn’t had a thing to say about it. Until today.

I gathered for the daily press gaggle and he suggested I might want to put Caputo on the spot. In the interests of team, of course.

“One step ahead of you,” I smiled. “I told the player today.”

His double take was priceless and his reaction was even better.

“Oh. Then well done, I guess,” he said, and I laughed out loud.

“Stefano, you have to understand that what I do is for the good of the club rather than due to any crossing of swords we have,” I explained. “And really, I’ve been quite patient. How about getting on board?”

“Would you care to explain your comments about media in the Reading newspaper?” another reporter asked, interrupting and thereby cutting my intended topic of conversation short. I didn’t recognize the new face asking me the question, so I asked for identification.

“Gustavo Bellini is my name, from Verona. You’ve created quite a controversy.”

“Not if you read what I said,” I replied. “I said when you don’t write about football, you upset me. I shouldn’t think that would be terribly surprising to you.”

“It’s not like most managers to openly criticize media here.”

“I don’t think its like most media to rate the manager’s choice of companionship,” I shot back. “I could be wrong about you, though.”

“Why are you fighting us?” he asked.

“I’m trying not to,” I replied. “I’ve got better things to do. I don’t care about what you do outside of your office and I ask for the same courtesy in return.”

“Then beat Legnano,” Emiliani challenged, and I rose to meet it.

“What’ll it be next week, Stefano?” I asked. “It’ll be ‘beat Citadella and we won’t write about you’. Then it’ll be ‘beat Pro Sesto’. Do you know who we play after that, Stefano?”

“I don’t have the fixture list memorized,” he said. “And it doesn’t matter.”

“Really?” I asked. “For your information, we’re at Paganese after that and then home to Ternana. You’re going to question my priorities? Clean up your own act first.”

# # #
Wednesday, February 13
Emiliani has been told to cool it by his superiors. At least in print.

He’s going to the Internet now, to write a football column which will be a companion piece to what is written in the local paper. He can be as sanitized as the club likes in print and as nasty as he wants to be in cyberspace.

Fine. Today’s print piece talked about getting behind the team but the internet column was a pretty frank assessment of where we stand at the moment. Mostly frank, as in opinionated but not completely accurate.

The only thing he didn’t mention was that we’re four points ahead. He covered pretty much everything else, and to a point I agreed with him.

I also told him as much after our training today, and you’d have thought I told him he had a tarantula on his shoulder. He just about freaked out.

“No, Stefano, I think you were quite fair, and I did read both your pieces,” I said. He had some unkind things to say about my captain as well, but they are things I myself have been thinking so I couldn’t disagree with him and be honest about it. He had written:

"Manager Ridgway needs to make up his mind about Federico Crovari. The stylish holding midfielder has played his role with decreasing effectiveness in recent matches and seems lost in the position in Padova’s alignment as often as not.

Without quick decision-making skills he is too often caught in possession, forcing the wing players to work harder on defensive responsibilities. Eder Baú and Massimiliano Caputo haven’t said much about it and I wouldn’t expect them to, but I strongly suspect both players wouldn’t mind backing their manager against a wall and telling him ‘give us Pablo Paz’."

First off, I agree with the idea of giving more time in midfield to Paz, now that Antonuzzo has gotten his feet wet, but there’s no way I’d let anyone in my dressing room back me against a wall. I think there’s a little projection showing through there.

Today’s training session was positive and also short. I eased up a bit on the players after working them hard the last two days and I intend to give them Sunday off since our match travel is quite short on Monday evening. They don’t know that yet, but they’re responding well to the challenge I gave them this week and I need to be a ‘good cop’ right at the moment.

Masolini has done his job so far, explaining why I’m doing what I’m doing to those who are upset with me but don’t want to darken my office door. I’m fine with that - my players are smart enough to figure out that the manager and the assistant manager will talk with each other from time to time.

On the whole, we’re rounding nicely into shape for the Monday match. The little Padova soap opera continues and right now, all the balls I’m juggling are in the air at the same time.

# # #
Thursday, February 14
Today was a very special day for me and Patty made sure of it.

Of course, today is St. Valentine’s Day and I was stunned to start my day with Patty’s knock on my door at 6:00 in the morning.

Grumbling, I got out of bed and headed to the door in my sleepwear. When I looked through the viewer in my door and saw her smiling face on the other side, my mood changed.

I opened the door and let her in.

“Honey, is there something wrong?” I asked, and she shook her head.

“Sorry to wake you so early, but you know the tradition,” she said. “I thought I’d come over to make you some breakfast.”

Sleep’s fog still crowded my brain, and I had no idea what she was talking about.

“What tradition?” I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

“Well, here’s something that will help with that,” she said, handing me a small box. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

I opened it and she explained.

“That’s Baci Perugina,” she said, starting to make coffee as I looked down into a box of chocolate-covered hazelnuts. “It’s an Italian tradition.”

It didn’t exactly look like breakfast food, but she was in a sweet mood and I wasn’t about to try to change it through an ill-advised comment.

There was a note inside and I took it out to read the contents. That was another part of the local tradition.

It was a copy of Henry Van Dyke’s poem Time Is Too Slow, and in still another Italian tradition the poem was translated into four languages. It now appeared before my sleep-filled eyes in Italian, English, German and Spanish. In English, it reads:

“Time is too slow for those who wait,
Too swift for those who fear,
Too long for those who grieve,
Too short for those who rejoice,
But for those who love,
Time is eternity.”

I was puzzled, and as Patty continued to make our breakfast I asked what had possessed her to do this.

“I wanted to find a special way to be with you today. It’s the local tradition and I thought you’d enjoy it,” she smiled.

“Yes, but at six o’clock in the morning?” I smiled, and she approached with a hot mug of coffee.

“That’s the last part of the tradition,” she said. “It says that an unmarried woman is to stand by her window on Valentine’s Day and the first man she sees will marry her within a year.”

I smiled at her. “You aren’t in your window,” I said, and she moved to sit in my lap.

“I couldn’t see your place from my window, so I came over in person,” she said, melting my heart. “I almost walked over blindfolded so I wouldn’t see anyone I wasn’t supposed to.”

Her voice softened and she sat in my lap.

“Rob, I love you, and I’ve made some decisions that, if you’re willing, will affect both of us.”

She snuggled close as we shared our morning coffee, and I had never been happier to be dragged out of bed. She’s “running hot” on our relationship again and I much prefer that to where we were at Christmas.

# # #
Friday, February 15
By comparison, the diamond necklace I bought Patty for Valentine’s Day paled to the gift she wanted to give me.

After I left the office last night I went straight to Patty’s place for a quiet dinner and a heavyweight conversation about the rest of our lives.

“Paul told me he was going to ask again to get married at Valentine’s Day,” she explained, using a name I thankfully hadn’t heard in several weeks.

“I thought that was over.”

“It was over, for me,” she said. “I moved to Padua, you know. And that wasn’t to be closer to Paul.”

I smiled. “Honey, the only thing that worries me is how we seem to have been so up and down,” I explained. “I love you dearly but…”

“…you’re afraid I’ll cut you off again,” she said, inadvertently cutting me off to tell me she wasn’t going to cut me off. “I can understand that. All I can do is be true to you and true to our relationship and prove it to you.”

“I didn’t say that to indict you,” I replied, but she hushed me by leaning over the table for a soft kiss.

“Shhh, honey,” she said, closing her eyes while her face lit up into a simply perfect smile. “I know you didn’t. I’ve just got things under control right now where they weren’t before. Peter and Kate’s visit really put pressure on me.”

Now I put down my fork, which held a piece of wonderful stuffed manicotti.

“I know that, but was there other pressure I should have known about?”

“He said some things,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “Nothing to worry about now, anyway. He said he and Kate were on the rocks and he was ‘exploring his options’.” She made little ‘quotation marks’ with the tips of her fingers to emphasize her point.

“So when I saw you holding her that night I thought it had all gone wrong. I snapped,” she added. “I just had to get out of that place and I thought that everything Peter McGuire touched around me turned into poison.”

“Honey,” I said, reaching for her hand. “I’m so sorry. I wish I had known! I could have helped you!”

“I thought you were in on it,” she said. “It looked bad and I didn’t give you time to explain. I was scared, I was angry, I was confused, you name it. It was awful and I just spun out of control. Until Kate wrote me, that is.”

I thought about my former sweetheart’s self-sacrifice. She wrote a note to Patty that saved our relationship at the same time it ended all thoughts of her own happiness with me. She did what she felt she had to do.

“I’m glad you’re back, anyway,” I said, in about the only thing I could say that didn’t sound completely trite.

“She is pretty miserable,” Patty replied. “But she did say she wanted you to be happy and that the best way for that to happen was if you and I were together. She saw what we had at first, Rob, and that’s what I need to have back.”

Our eyes met and she finally explained what I really wanted to know – why she left and why she came back.

“When I left you a part of me just died. I can’t go through that again. I tried to run away so I wouldn’t hurt any more and all I learned was that each step I took made the pain worse.”

“I would have welcomed you,” I said. “I took it hard. Ask Masolini. He’ll tell you.”

“I know, but I was just too frightened and too confused,” she said. “I’ve got my head screwed on straight now, though, and now that I’m no longer under pressure from Peter, I think we’ll be just fine.”

She squeezed my hand again. “If you ever have any doubts, just let me prove it,” she said. “I’m in no hurry.”

Except for one item.

“I do have to go back to Venice on Tuesday,” she said. “It’s just for the day, I have to close up my office and Tuesday was always the morning I kept for regular office time. I’ll be back in the evening and then I can start looking for a job here.”

“You don’t need to if you don’t want to,” I said. “I’ve got enough to cover us.”

“But you aren’t my husband – yet,” she said. “I’m not a kept woman, that’s for certain. I want to make my own career and I know you understand that.”

I looked at her, chastened.

“I do understand that,” I said. “But I thought I should at least make the offer.”

“You’re sweet to do it,” she said. “But it wouldn’t be right.”

# # #
Saturday, February 16
I’ve made a decision that I’m not going to tell media about. I’m going to sit down my leading scorer for Monday’s match.

Varricchio has now gone 434 minutes without a goal and hasn’t scored since the January 7 match at Venezia. Paponi has earned his shot and he’s going to get it starting tomorrow.

The kid can play. He’s tall at 6’2”, rangy and can really strike a ball. He’s gotten himself settled nicely but it’s taken him a bit longer than I had hoped to make his mark in the first team, due in part to the prolonged steady play of Varricchio.

But now Massimiliano is in poor form and needs to rebound. Ideally, Paponi will play off Muzzi tomorrow and those two actually pose my fastest strike combination.

Daniele, like Varricchio, is also an excellent header of the ball and my hope is that he will wreak some havoc in Citadella’s penalty area. This may change another part of my tactic as well.

I’m also considering playing Muzzi as a target man – despite the fact that he’s five inches shorter than Paponi – to try to get his ability to pass the ball into play.

Paponi is a better pure finisher than Varricchio in my view, but Roberto is a superior passer. His veteran presence may get him, and also Paponi, the ball in better positions. It’s a gamble, to be sure, but right now we aren’t creating much by playing “the way we’ve always done it”.

Varricchio will make the bench because I need him there, but the time is now to make a change. This sputtering play in the attacking third can’t continue and I need a spark. The time to try it is now, when we have the four-point advantage.

# # #

It’s also too far to travel to scout our main opposition tomorrow and still get back to Padua in something approaching a timely fashion.

Sassuolo is playing at Paganese in Salerno, which is out of the question for a day trip. Novara is at home to Foligno and Cremonese is the closest drive to play Venezia, who we’ve already played twice and whom I’ve scouted twice more.

I’ll want to see Venezia a little closer to the end of the season when we play them – but that match is televised so I can watch it that way.

Of those teams, Novara concerns me the most but I already see them in my nightmares. So I may as well watch Venezia again.

# # #

Sunday, February 17
Our lead is down to one point after two of our main rivals came up trumps in this afternoon’s matches.

Sassuolo is back on the right track with a 2-0 win at Paganese. Novara didn’t have their usual attacking flair due to Foligno packing ten men behind the ball for most of the match, but won anyway by 1-0. Only Venezia failed to win, managing just a 1-1 draw at Cremonese, which I saw on television.

Venezia’s draw was obviously the best news in that group. Our 47 points still leads Girone A, but Sassuolo is on 46, Novara has 45, and Venezia has 44. We are definitely scoreboard watching and it’s quite nerve wracking.

I find it remarkable that with a twenty-match unbeaten run going in our league, we lead by one point. It shows the strength of our league and if we should slip tomorrow, it will just get even wilder.

Tomorrow will mark our 23rd league match of the season, putting us officially into the homestretch of the league season.

We still have Serie C Cup matches to play as well, with a board target of the semifinals to meet. Every match we play from now until the end of the season will see pressure placed on us.

Yet, that’s why we play. We want the glory, so we have to take what comes with it. Or least, what passes for glory at this level. The real glory comes higher up the ladder, I think.

Though, I’ve played with more than a few teammates through my career who seemed to think the spotlight followed them wherever they went. At least in their eyes it did – even if no one else saw it.

I played with one individual in Chicago who would spend fully twenty minutes in front of the mirror before each match – home or away – making sure he looked perfect before taking the pitch. Right down to hair spray and combed eyebrows.

I never really understood that. The same player was usually a mass of sweat and dirt within the first half hour of the match anyway.

Perhaps it was superstition. Perhaps it was vanity to a degree I haven’t seen before. Perhaps it was a combination of both. But for a player like me, who was simply happy to be pulling on a first team shirt at that stage of my career, it was a bit mind-boggling.

I relate this story because just about everyone on both the Venezia and Cremonese benches had evidently taken pains to look good for television. We’ve been on television twice already this season and will be again tomorrow, so I feel like a veteran. I don’t feel like I have to dress the part, though I’ll certainly do the club justice.

What I don’t want is to look like Bill Belichick, coach of the NFL’s New England Patriots. He wears a cutoff hoody on the sidelines and it doesn’t look so hot. However, I’d take his record and his championship pedigree and I’m sure he doesn’t care how he looks.

It’s going to be clear and coolish tomorrow so I’m more concerned about how the weather will affect my team’s play than how that weather will make me look.

The best part of the day, though, was simply watching the match on television with Patty. It’s the most natural thing in the world to spend time now and my hope is that all the misunderstanding and hurt feelings are behind us. We even ate some chocolate-covered hazelnuts while we watched the match. Some Valentine’s gifts are meant to be shared.

# # #
Monday, February 18
Citadella v Padova – Serie C1A

A much better reaction from my players – and some more spark up front – allowed us to rebound from last weekend’s disappointment.

We reacted well to the pressure and restored our four-point lead atop the league thanks to goals from Paponi and Muzzi. I couldn’t have asked for better, but we had the added advantage of playing against ten men for a good part of the match.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The team coach arrived at Pier Cesare Tombolato two hours before kickoff and I headed off for a quick interview with the match broadcasters. The squad headed into the changing room to begin various pre-match rituals, while I did the necessary things with media.

The questioning during our first round of televised matches centered around how a Yankee was going to survive in Italy. Now, the questioning moved to whether I would prosper. That’s more respect than I’ve received from our local media and it wasn’t lost on me.

By the time I arrived in the dressing room the players were changed and awaiting the teamtalk.

I wrote the starting XI on a board in front of the room and noted Varricchio’s disappointment. He didn’t like being dropped at all, but I need to kick-start him again and losing his place is what may well do it.

“I’ll tell you right now, I’m looking for better,” I said. “You all know what happened yesterday around the league and I want to know if you’ll bounce back. My challenge to you today is to impose your will on them. Show me how badly you want to win. Play hard for each other and do what I know you can do. Good luck today, but know that no matter what happens, you still are top of the table. Make it happen.”

In a way, it was a rather embarrassing match to have on television as only 1192 fans came to see it. Of those, about 300 were our traveling support so it was a very disappointing showing for the home team. Of course, only six wins and eleven losses in 22 matches will lead to that.

From the beginning, we made things happen. Novara’s ‘dynamic duo’ of Rabito and Sinigaglia is well known. Now ours, of Baú and Caputo, had its turn.

They worked well from the beginning, switching sides frequently and causing the home defense no end of trouble. Simone Villanova was a very busy man in Citadella’s goal, with his best save defying Rabito’s rocket from just outside the area on 26 minutes. Villanova dove at full stretch and had enough strength in his arms to fist his attempt around the left goalpost.

We even had possession for extended periods of time and the results of that strong play showed in increasing frustration on the part of our hosts.

It finally reached a boiling p0int when we put together some of our best all-around passing of the season just before halftime. We were working the ball around extremely well and moving nearly at will before the much-maligned Crovari took a pass about 35 yards out from goal.

Citadella midfielder Dieguito moved in and Crovari passed the ball away. Dieguito still came in hard, challenging my captain late and with both feet, catching him across both ankles. Crovari crumpled to the ground and everyone in our colors immediately showed their anger at a moment of madness.

Red-faced with anger, I looked first at the fourth official and then at referee Johannes Donati, choosing not to say anything until the referee made his decision. Thankfully, it didn’t take long. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the straight red card. Dieguito didn’t even look back, untucking his shirt and trotting off the pitch.

The physio staff reached Crovari, who was in considerable discomfort, and he spent a full three minutes down on the turf.

I thought it was a minor miracle he didn’t have at least one broken leg – but what he did have was a badly spiked right ankle from the studs of the Citadella midfielder.

He took a couple of steps assisted by the physios and immediately sat down. Attendants brought a stretcher onto the pitch to carry him off.

I nodded to Cotroneo, who was already warming up on the touchline. He knew he would go into the match as Paz shifted to the holding role.

Crovari’s anger was palpable as he was carried past me. I looked at him, like I had with Di Venanzio back in September, and gave him a look of consolation.

“Hang in there,” I told him. “We need you.”

He nodded, and he was carried to the dressing room for treatment while the match continued.

The injury, and the red card, woke us up. It was a matter of moments before we had the ball in their net for the first time, with Baú, as usual, the provider. He criss-crossed with Caputo at midfield and took the ball down his more accustomed right side on 42 minutes and struck a perfectly weighted cross right into the middle of the six-yard box.

You could almost hear the sound of a train whistle as Paponi charged toward the ball, unstoppable in pace and with intent in his eyes. He smashed the ball toward the goal with his forehead and Villanova had no chance. The ball flashed home to get us a goal up and frankly we deserved it.

Paponi showed his emotion and our traveling support rose as one to praise the loan player for a truly fine finish. Baú ran to him with the look of a man who provides perfect service to his strikers every day – and in his case, he does as often as not.

We played five minutes of injury time in the first half and headed to the break firmly in control of the match. We returned to see Crovari with a bandage and ice on his ankle and assistant Mauricio Balló waiting with a report.

“Thankfully it’s not broken,” he said. “It’s a very bad knock and he’s had five stitches. He will be out for at least a week but he needs to rest the joint until it settles down. He’s in a fair amount of pain.”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” I said, nodding to the captain who sat in the corner of the changing room with an icepack on his ankle. He nodded back and our unspoken communication told the entire story.

“All right, men, listen up,” I said. “We’re in the same position now that we were in last weekend on our home pitch. I love the work you’ve done so far but now is the time to finish the job. Don’t let up. Don’t give in. Don’t undo what you’ve done. Make it happen.”

I left the individual instruction to Masolini and headed out into the hallway by the visitors’ changing room for a pace. So, we were in the same position again.

This time, there was no doubt who was bossing the match. Playing against ten, there wasn’t much doubt anyhow but the players showed application and grit to make sure their opponents didn’t get back into the match.

Eleven minutes after the restart, we scored again in a manner quite similar to our first goal, with Baú and Caputo again crossing in midfield. When Baú reached the right side of the pitch he unhesitatingly drove hard for the byline and somehow managed to pull the ball back while in full stride.

This time he found the unmarked Muzzi, whose eyes lit up at the sight of such service. He trapped the ball down with his chest, let it bounce, and still had time to volley past the helpless Villanova for two-nil.

Muzzi is now hot, having netted in three of our last four matches, and his reaction was what you’d expect from the man in form. Both strikers finding the net had certainly vindicated my choice of strike partners and even though we were eleven against ten, I could afford to feel good about our play.

The players then bore out my optimism, shutting down Citadella with tight play, closing them down all over the pitch. When we had the ball we slowed the pace and worked as wide as we could, forcing them to cover the entire pitch with their ten men.

By the end, it was almost like child’s play. We were very good all the way through the second half and Donati’s full time whistle put the home side out of their misery. It was a solid ninety-minute effort and we have reason to be quite pleased.

As you might imagine, the players were quite happy with themselves after a solid away win and I did nothing to curb their enthusiasm. This time, the media questioning was slightly different than I would have expected.

“Why is your away form so much better than your home form of late?” I was asked, and I realized the questioner was quite right.

“I wish I could tell you,” I said honestly. “Last weekend we dominated proceedings for 45 minutes and didn’t get the winning goal late when we needed it. We also didn’t stop our opponent when it mattered most. Though I should say, it’s nearly always easier to play against ten men, and that certainly helped us today.”

“Your thoughts on Dieguito’s sending off, please.”

“Red card, what can I say?” I said. “I don’t want to condemn the kid, but really, you can’t go in with two feet like that. The ball was long gone and Crovari is lucky both his ankles are still attached to the rest of his body.”

“Are you feeling pressure now? Is there a title race on?”

“There’s a title race on from the first fixture on the schedule,” I said. “Just because we’re at the top of it this season doesn’t change the facts. With the lead we have, I think if we keep playing this way we’ll be right in there at the end and that’s all you can ask.”

# # #

This time, returning home was a pleasure. Patty was waiting at Euganeo to greet me and I felt like a domesticated man when I got off the coach.

She waited for me, leaning against the wall near the players’ entrance as she often does, and this time the look in her eyes told me I was truly home. That is a feeling I can’t even begin to describe.

It’s time to go home. I couldn’t be happier.
Citadella 0-2 Padova
# # #
Tuesday, February 19
“Devastating” is the best word I can use to describe the events of today. I’ve nearly lost Patty again, but this time for a wholly different reason.

She is in a Venice hospital tonight after a serious motor wreck on the A4 on the way to her office. I left my office early, for obvious reasons, when word reached me that she had been injured.

We trained this morning with video due to not getting our customary day-after-a-win Monday off. Near the end of a light afternoon session, while working with my central defenders, I noticed Balló approaching at a dead run.

“Rob, you need to take this call,” he said, handing me my phone as he slumped forward to catch his breath, hands on knees.

I never carry my phone with me on the training pitch so for him to bring it to me meant something was very wrong indeed. Apprehensively, I answered.

“This is Carlotta Rossi calling from Ospedale Civile in Venice,” she said with a perfunctory tone. She had said ‘Muncipal Hospital’ and I was worried. “I am to inform you that Patricia Myers is here, in emergency surgery after a motor accident.”

The color drained out of my face and I felt faint. No words would come out of my mouth. Finally, I spoke.

“Thank you,” I said. “What sort of surgery?”

“She has suffered serious blunt trauma injuries,” the faceless voice said. “Your presence is requested.”

I thanked her, she gave me the address of the hospital and I tried to figure out where I was about to go. I turned to Masolini, who saw my distress.

“Filippo, I have to go to Venice,” I said. “Patty has been badly hurt in a car accident.”

“Go,” he said immediately. “I will take training.”

I thanked him, asked Balló to inform Sestaro that I might be gone for awhile, and confirmed with my chairman on my way to Venice.

About two-thirds of the way there, I saw vehicles still clearing up a portion of the wreck, which had evidently happened by a bridge abutment.

Most of Patty’s car had thankfully been removed from the roadway, but broken glass and assorted vehicle parts were swept into a pile by the side of the road. Obviously there had been a tremendous impact and I fought away tears as I drove.

I found a municipal parking lot just inside the city and caught one of Venice’s famous water taxis, which thankfully had a kind driver even though he recognized Padova’s manager as his passenger.

He took me to the Scuola Grande di San Marco, which is the entry building to the hospital, and motioned to the door.

“That is the entry,” he said, as I paid him generously. “I wish you the best of luck.”

I thanked him and rushed into the emergency area, where I checked in with the receptionist. I was cleared to go to the waiting area but before I arrived, I was stopped by two men in dark suits, who asked my name.

“Rob Ridgway. What’s the meaning of this?” I asked. “Who are you? Why can’t I go to the waiting area?”

One of the men reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a badge. “State Department Inspector General,” he said. “We have a few questions for you, Mr. Ridgway.”

“My girlfriend is in emergency surgery,” I said. “Can’t this wait?”

“Unfortunately, no, it can’t,” the man replied. “We need to find out what you know about Miss Myers’ travel arrangements. She is an employee of the United States Government and we are assisting police with their investigation.”

“Police? Why?”

“Mr. Ridgway,” the man said patiently, “we have reason to believe this was no accident. Now please, come with us.”

# # #

I was shown into a side room where I found several Polizia di Stato, or Italian State Police, waiting. My sense of apprehension grew as I was shown to a chair.

The policemen neither rose nor offered their handshakes. That didn’t bode well. If they were trying to intimidate me…it was working.

A man who I took to be an inspector opened the conversation.

“My name is Dino Cipriani, lead investigator,” he said. “I’d like to ask you about Miss Myers and her travel plans.”

It didn’t add up.

“Am I a suspect for some reason or other?” I asked. “Am I under arrest? If I am, I want an attorney present.”

“At this time, no, Mr. Ridgway, you are not,” Cipriani said, and a cold chill ran down my spine due to the wording of his answer. “We wish to know if Miss Myers communicated her travel plans to you and if she did, if you told them to anyone.”

I took a deep breath and knowing I had nothing to hide, I answered.

“She told me over the weekend that she had to go to Venice for part of the day,” I said. “I told no one.”

“Do you know anyone who might have been privy to her travel plans?”

“She didn’t tell me that she had said anything to anyone,” I answered. “Look, what’s going on here? What about this accident makes it suspicious?”

“After the accident, a witness called 1-1-8 to summon an ambulance,” Cipriani replied, naming the Italian equivalent of the American 9-1-1 service, which was more familiar to me. “The inference made by the witness was that Miss Myers’ car had been run off the road.”

“Oh, Lord,” I sighed, failing to conceal my shock. “I have to know if she’s all right!”

“She has had blunt force trauma injuries to her torso and head,” Cipriani replied. “She is in surgery at the moment to repair a collapsed lung and to deal with internal injuries. There is no question that the air bag in the car saved her life.”

I couldn’t contain my emotion any longer and buried my head in my hands. Nobody said a word as I fought to compose myself.

“Run off the road?” I finally repeated, my eyes wet with tears and my ears unable to believe the words coming out of my own mouth.

“That is what we believe,” Cipriani answered. “Therefore we are very interested in learning who may have known of her travel plans. If this was a deliberate incident we must know who knew of them.”

The first man in the suit now sp0ke. He hadn’t yet identified himself and the look on his face told me I’d get no such courtesy now.

“Since Miss Myers is an American national in the employment of the United States Government, we are assisting,” he repeated. I already knew that and wondered why he felt it necessary to remind me.

“At least we’re still using the present tense to refer to Patty,” I said, the only person in the room who had actually used her Christian name. “And at the moment, that is my only concern. Am I done here?”

Cipriani nodded. “We have no wish to detain you,” he said. “But we would appreciate knowing your whereabouts in case we have additional enquiries.”

“I’m a football manager,” I said. “It’s not like I’m difficult to find.”

I left the room and headed to the waiting area, brushing aside local reporters as I did. We’ll have more media coverage in the morning, and it had better be of the right kind.

# # #
Wednesday, February 20
I arrived back in Padua at 7:00 this morning, after sitting at Patty’s bedside all night.

She came out of surgery at midnight and was just coming out of anaesthesia when it was time for me to go. Leaving her side was quite possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

Her perfect face was bruised, her internal injuries repaired, and she was heavily sedated – but she was alive. That was all I cared about at that moment and it’s all I care about now.

I needed to sleep and I needed to do my job, so it meant everything to see her eyelids flutter at 5:30 this morning. Her green eyes opened slowly and she turned to me at her bedside. She squeezed my hand and a single tear raced down her right cheek.

I broke down, holding tightly to her hand while sniffing away tears of relief. I pushed the call button beside her bed to let the nurses know she was awake and presently a nurse and doctor appeared.

“Good to have you back, Miss Myers,” the nurse said in English. “You gave us a scare.”

She spoke, her voice barely a whisper as she fought against the anaesthesia. “Sorry to be a bother,” she said in a brave attempt at humor.

“We’re just going to keep you comfortable this morning,” the doctor said. “You had concussion, two broken ribs, a collapsed lung and your spleen was lacerated. You lost quite a bit of blood.”

“But I made it,” she said, a weak smile crossing her face.

I shook my head in sadness at the thought of how much pain she must have had to endure, realizing that the painkilling drip she was now receiving would have helped somewhat.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” I said, and Patty saw my look of overwhelming sadness.

“I’ll make it,” she said. “It hurts, but I’m going to make it.”

“We have every reason to believe you will,” the doctor said, now showing a little bedside manner in his voice. “You were brought here quickly and the emergency services made sure you got here alive. However, you should know the police are waiting to speak with you as soon as you are strong enough.”

“I’m in no shape,” she protested, and the doctor silenced her with a soft raise of his hand.

“Of course you aren’t,” he said. “But they would like a description of what happened. They are looking for individuals who may have seen the incident.”

“Or caused it,” she said. “I was run off the road.”

That confirmation provided both welcome news and an icy blast at the same time. It was a deliberate thing, and that kind of realization is enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine.

“Save your strength, honey,” I said. “The police will want to know and I want to see whoever did this locked up.”

“Me too,” she said. “Maybe even more than you do.”

This last attempt at levity dissolved into a tired smile and finally, her eyes closed again. I got up, softly kissed her forehead, and as she slept, I left the room to call the club offices.

I agreed to come back for the morning session, with the full understanding that I would head back to Venezia as soon as my responsibilities were complete. We do have to prepare for Pro Sesto this weekend and as far away from my mind as it was overnight, that is still my responsibility.

So I drove back in the early morning hours and went straight to the ground for a shower and a quick nap before the morning session.

Thankfully, we did our video work yesterday and also installed much of our plan for the return matchup against a club we’ve already seen. So I figured today’s training work would be fairly routine and preparing a plan wouldn’t take a whole lot of time.

When I arrived, though, I saw that Masolini had already prepared a plan for my approval. It saved me about an hour’s work and I was grateful. He had picked up the slack in my absence and that meant a lot.

Masolini gave me time to sleep, and I gratefully curled up on the couch in my office for a couple of hours. The sounds of the first players arriving for training woke me, and I trudged off to the coaches’ showers to make myself presentable for the day.

I emerged into a quiet room and my players didn’t say much as I greeted them. They had all heard what had happened, and I wondered if something else had happened in the meantime.

“I don’t suppose you have read the papers,” Muzzi said as he arrived. “We’re sorry to hear about Patty but we didn’t know you had been detained.”

I frowned. The wrong thing had been written, obviously, and I was in no mood for it. I went to the club offices to see a copy of the morning paper, which had indeed reported that Padova manager Rob Ridgway had been detained by authorities for questioning in the matter of Patty Myers’ accident.

Under the headline, once again, of Sforza Patricia, the story was written about how I had been detained for questioning and that I was “assisting police with their enquiries”. Which I have been. What I haven’t been is named as any sort of suspect. The wrong inference had been made.

My temples began to pound, from a brand new tension headache. My sweetheart was lying in a hospital bed 40 miles away and needed me with her. I had more media questions to answer and training to run. The pressure seemed too great to bear.

I headed back into the changing room where the squad was still gathered in silence. I stood in the center of the room and you could have heard a pin drop.

“Fellows, about the morning paper,” I said softly, and knew my choice of words would be very important. “I drove to Venice after yesterday’s training, as you know. The police met with me and asked some questions about Patty’s travel. I’m not a suspect, I didn’t do anything, and you need to get the idea out of your heads that the manager is some sort of criminal. I’m not. As you know, I was here at training yesterday with you when the accident happened. They didn’t report everything that happened and they didn’t report everything that did happen in context. I would like you to go and put this out of your minds. Train the way you have been training and above all, play like you played last weekend. That is the best way to quiet people down.”

So we did. I had no comment for media afterward other than to say I hadn’t been detained and the police could verify that. I was in no mood to argue. Even Emiliani was sympathetic to that.
# # #

This evening, I drove back to Venice and before long found myself in the same chair I was in all night long. But this time the hospital staff had thoughtfully arranged for my presence.

They brought in a cot so I could recline in the evening. I thought it was a grand gesture and remarked to the day nurse that the people in Venice had been nicer to me in the main than most of the people in Padua had been over the last twenty-four hours.

Patty had been interviewed by the police and a bulletin was out for two cars believed to have been involved. However, with twelve hours’ advance notice they could have been anywhere in the country or even beyond, which didn’t make either of us feel any better.

She told me her story – how a driver had boxed her in to the front while a second driver came alongside to ram her car hard into the bridge support. She felt she couldn’t slow down due to traffic behind her and she didn’t want to stop due to obviously being afraid of the men in the vehicles trying to run her off the road.

“I tried, but I couldn’t get around them,” she sobbed. I reached for Patty and gently tried to console her, but the memory was still far too raw.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” she said. “I can’t imagine what it would be like if you weren’t.”

“I’m always here,” I said, squeezing her hand again. “If not in body, then I’m here in spirit. You’ll be all right and that’s all that matters to me.”
# # #
Thursday, February 21
It looks as though Patty will spend one more day in the hospital before they discharge her – just 72 hours after significant abdominal surgery. That’s amazing.

I’ve also insisted that she recuperate at my apartment during this time. She has no one to look after her and she won’t be up to moving around or doing things for herself for a few days yet. She will be on the shelf for a couple of weeks.

I explained it to her this evening.

“Patty, if you really do want to follow that Valentine’s tradition, let me do this for you,” I said. “It’s surely the least I can do – and besides, if we’re together I don’t have to worry about who is watching you move around town. We need to let the police do their work.”

It was also something approaching a normal day. I commuted between Venice and Padua again, this time fully prepared to run a solid training session. The media hasn’t pressed on the details of my statement to the police and after about 48 hours of continuous headache, the throbbing in my skull finally subsided overnight.

That led to a markedly different manager this morning. I’m also glad we’re playing at home this weekend because the thought of traveling would be hard to bear.

Pro Sesto is another bottom-half club fighting to stay out of the playdown places. Their record of 5-8-10 is 28 points behind us in the table. Regarding the quality of the matchup, I think it’s instructive to note that if we win on Sunday, it will be mathematically impossible for Pro Sesto to catch us this season.

That’s a bit much with ten games of the season still to be played after Sunday’s matches. We’ve been good enough and they haven’t. They haven’t scored a lot, we haven’t conceded a lot, and the combination of the two makes me feel pretty good.

I also feel good about my strike pairing, where Muzzi and Paponi will keep their places after each found the net last weekend. The regular XI is now close to being set and really there are only two places being contested with much regularity.

The central midfield battle goes on between Rabito and Gentile and right back is probably going to be Antonazzo’s soon after a bit of a slow start. Paz v Crovari in the holding position is a battle coming to a conclusion – Paz will be the regular when Antonazzo is ready to play right back regularly and gains good form.

We’re rounding into shape quite nicely. It’s time for that to happen and it’s time to see what we can really do.

# # #
Today I also spoke with media at length about Patty’s accident. For the first time, I was able to open up a bit and clear the air on some important issues.

“I would really appreciate some space here,” I said in an informal, off-the-record meeting with the press after training. “I saw the headline this week and it was the same as the headline that got me so upset before the second Sassuolo match but for a different reason. This time I have someone very dear to me in a hospital bed after what the police think was a planned, deliberate event. She needs time to heal and she needs time to evaluate her life. That’s no small thing. I know some of you have said you’ll write what you want when you want. I understand that. But I do wish you would stay away from this issue right at this point in time.”

Emiliani, of all people, now spoke.

“We have had our differences,” he said. “But I will honor this request. Whatever people may think about you spending so much time in Venice, life and health are more important. We will continue to cover this as news but it does not belong on the opinion page in my view and we will not present it as such. You have my word.”

I nodded. “Stefano, I appreciate that,” I answered. “As always, if you want to talk football my door is open. We have a very big match coming up on Sunday that deserves our full attention and you have my word that it will receive that attention for our loyal supporters.”

# # #

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