[FM08] American Calcio

Thursday, April 10
Well, it doesn’t appear as though we’re done with Novara yet.

They defeated Venezia 1-0 last night in their quarterfinal for a 2-0 aggregate win, and have been drawn against us in the semifinals. The first leg will be next Wednesday at Euganeo and the return leg will be on the 23rd at Silvio Piola.

Obviously, I’m concerned about away goals, especially with this opposition. They haven’t hurt us yet in the two matches we’ve played and that’s because we’ve been pretty good across the back line, but I can’t help feeling that the more we play them the more we might be pushing our luck.

That bit of news greeted us while we were in our meeting room watching video of the first Foligno match, the cardfest which resulted in a sending off for Gentile and six names in the referee’s book for each team.

As spotty as our discipline has been at times this season it’s still better than Foligno’s. One reason why they are currently last in the table is due to accruing a rather amazing nine red cards over the course of thirty league matches. Losing that many players on the pitch, not to mention the corresponding suspensions that follow, have profoundly hurt them.

They are an extremely physical side, which means I have to worry about simply getting through the match without injury. Last time I couldn’t even say that, as Rabito suffered a hamstring injury due to a late challenge which meant we had to finish the match with nine players.

We’re going to play a bob-and-weave style and I hope we won’t have to do it literally. My theory is that if they can’t catch us, they can’t crunch us. I think the players will appreciate making the extra effort, especially after they saw the studs-up challenges both teams made in the first match for a second time.

I can’t imagine they want the same type of match on our pitch, so I trust things will be better the second time around.


I also met with the authorities today to try to get a handle on the messages I’ve been getting.

This morning I got e-mail on my private account, with a subject line I don’t care to repeat. I forwarded it to the police, knowing full well that it was presumably sent from an IP address that would reveal nothing – and got on with my day. However, now the inquiry can expand to who knows my personal e-mail address, which may yield more information.

After the training session I took a very quiet trip to Venice to meet with Cipriani. Patty, both out of concern for me and due to a simple desire to be together, came with me.

“We have alerted Foligno Calcio’s security staff to be prepared for incursions,” he said. “They understand the gravity of the situation and will provide you with all possible assistance.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” I said. “But you didn’t ask me to drive all the way to Venice just to tell me that.”

“That is true,” he said. “We have additional information on the ring of people – and yes, it is a ring – trying to interfere in the trial. It is larger than a trial, and larger than harassment. If we are fortunate, we will get to the bottom of this at Foligno. If you receive another note, we will know why and hopefully from whence it came.”

I looked at Patty apprehensively, and she at me.

“There may be an element of danger involved,” Cipriani said. “I need to know first of all if you are willing to go through with a normal away day knowing what I am about to tell you.”

Friday, April 11
I got a great phone call this afternoon from Mauricio Balló, the assistant coach I’ve placed in charge of our u-20 team.

“Rob, we’ve won the league,” he reported with some satisfaction. “3-1 to us today over Foligno. I couldn’t be more proud of the boys.”

I agree. I’m very proud of that group’s accomplishments. The only player on the squad considered a legitimate professional prospect is Grujic, and he’s been with the senior squad for most of the last month. Carrying on without him, the rest of the group has won 21 times in 31 starts earning 68 points.

I’ve seen the group play eight times this season, all before home matches. They usually play 48 hours before the senior squad does and it does the kids a world of good to see the senior squad manager in the stands for their matches.

Of course, that serves a dual purpose. I need the youngsters to know they are being watched, but I also want to scout my own players. I had seen Grujic play six times before calling him up and as a result had a good idea of what he was about before ever speaking to the boy about playing with the senior squad.

“Let’s do something for the players,” I said. “Call my office and have Christina put together a gathering for the players and their families. We’ll use the indoor training facility.”

“That’s all well and good, but there’s no budget for it,” he said.

“Don’t worry about budget, Mauricio,” I said. “I’ll pay for it. Just get the people there.”

“That will run into thousands of Euros,” he protested. “Food and drink for 25 players plus families is a big thing. Do you really want to pay for dinner for 150 people?”

“These players won something,” I said. “And many of them won’t be offered contracts after the season is over. I want them to leave here with something positive, and I want those who do stay to get into a culture of winning. This is a small thing I can do for players who have really done well.”

“All right,” he said. “I know they’ll appreciate it.”

“I appreciate them,” I replied. “They deserve it. They did the work and they won the matches.”

I also had a heart-to-heart talk with Patty this evening about yesterday’s conversation with Cipriani.

“I can’t believe he would ask you to place yourself in danger,” she said.

“He explained it, honey,” I said, softly stroking her hair as we cuddled on the couch at her apartment. We haven’t had much worry about traveling back and forth since we very quietly hired private security to guard our public movements. My hope is that we won’t need them for long.

I kissed her forehead. “It won’t be that bad,” I added. “And I have to go anyway. I’d prefer to take the trip knowing that the appropriate precautions have been taken to maybe catch these people. If they can do that and find out how ‘The Supporters’ are organized we might have a nice, peaceful summer. I’m willing to take that risk.”

“But what if he’s wrong?” Patty asked, now looking up at me. Tears welled in her beautiful eyes and rolled freely down her face.

“Rob, what if he’s wrong? We’ve worked so hard to be together, we’ve been through so much – I don’t want you to take the chance! You mean more to me than this so-called ring of people, or anything else associated with this place. Play it safe and then let’s run away!”

I held Patty close and dried her tears. Every so often she would sniffle and choke back another tear as I formed my thoughts. Finally, she looked back up at me, with a sad expression.

“I do love you, Rob Ridgway,” she said. “And I don’t want anything to happen to you. If something happened to you and I could have done anything to prevent it, I’d never forgive myself. Please, darling, let’s just run away…”

It sounded so appealing. No more Emiliani, no more questions, no more looking over my shoulder. It could all be over if I said the word.

A sense of déjà vu swept over me. I had definitely had this feeling before. I had it the night Patty left and I gave my only serious consideration to Kate’s words about taking me back. It could have been all over then, too. I could have been back in England tonight, safe and secure.

However, Kate is due any day now with her third child so I think the dynamic would be quite bit different than it was last time. And now, as then, the feeling didn’t matter.

I looked at Patty, who was thinking her own thoughts curled up against my chest, and knew I had to test our relationship once again.

“Honey, you know I have to go,” I finally said, and the look she returned was one of pure pain.

“I know,” she said. “I hate it with every fiber of my being but I know you have to go. All I ask – Rob, I’m begging you – is to please, please be careful!”

I pulled her to me and now we were both in tears. “Of course, honey,” I said. “And when I get back, you and I have some serious talking to do. For all the right reasons.”

Saturday, April 12
If you ask anyone who has ever been in a car accident what the most frightening part of the experience is, most people will tell you it comes after the accident is over and they think about what might have been.

That’s the feeling I have tonight. We are in Foligno, located near the geographic center of the country, and I’ve been shaking all evening long.

Cipriani has his man, and all of a sudden my board isn’t quite as high-strung as it has been. A person associated with our club is responsible for what has gone on, and to say it’s a person who alarms me would be an understatement.

We pulled into the car park at Foligno’s ground, called Enzo Blasone, at mid-afternoon. We got off the coach and I proceeded to supervise the shifting of our kit from the storage area in the coach to the visitors’ changing room. I remembered Cipriani’s words to me as I headed into the changing room for the first time.

“Do all as you usually do until you get into the changing room,” he had said. “Then, get away from the room.”

I did as I was instructed. Instead of staying in the changing room I returned to the coach. I was quite surprised indeed at what I found. Our driver, 39-year old Giovanni d’Agostino, was in quite a bit of consternation. I engaged him in casual conversation and the longer it took, the more nervous he seemed to become. I stood on the bottom step of the doorway while he sat in his seat.

He was sitting in his seat, fidgeting. “Giovanni, what’s wrong?” I asked. “Are you all right? Are you feeling poorly?”

“I’m fine, Rob, there’s nothing wrong,” he answered. “Just not feeling so well today. Would you excuse me? I need to go inside for a moment.”

He had made a stupid, silly slip and it gave him away. There were facilities on the coach, and we both came to the realization at the same time.

I took a quick look to either side to see if anyone else was around. Suddenly, he lunged at me, pulling an object out from under his light jacket.

My security wasn’t there – it was a team function and I didn’t bring private security on the coach. D’Agostino knew it and had seen his chance.

I stepped aside sharply, yelling for help, and he flew out onto the pavement, quickly regaining his feet to lunge again. He charged me, reaching for my throat, and I retreated around the front of the coach – right into an oncoming police detachment. Cipriani had done his work well.

The police ordered the driver to halt and he did, dropping the object onto the ground. It was then that I saw it was a blade.

The police were then on him, forcing him to the ground and pinning his arms behind his back so he could be handcuffed. As they did, the look he gave me was chilling. His threats, muttered through clenched teeth, were even worse.

As he was being taken away, a note fell out of his pocket and the wind blew it to my feet. I picked it up and read it.

“Ridgway, you are a dead man.”

I called for the police sergeant’s attention and handed him the note.

“I think this is something you should have,” I said, handing it to him by the corner. “Thanks to you, I’ve got no use for it and neither does he.”


I then went to the changing room to sit down.

I was shaking. Masolini noticed. He could hardly have missed it.

“What happened, Rob?” he asked.

“It was Dag,” I sighed, taking a drink of water to try to soothe my nerves while referring to our driver by his nickname. “He came at me with a knife. He was the one who posted the notes.”

“You’re kidding,” he replied, before thinking about what he had said.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” I snapped. “He tried to kill me! Now I have to go home and tell Patty that a club employee tried to cut my throat – a guy who has driven me all over the country this season!”

Then I started to think about it – how many times I’ve slept on that coach while players made rest stops, restroom breaks, and even ate dinner in a restaurant in one case. If D’Agostino had really wanted to end matters, or had been told to end matters, he could have done so at any of a dozen points during the season and I would never have had a chance.

It was genuinely frightening. There wasn’t a word Masolini could say.

Finally, he arose from his chair and left me to my thoughts, closing the door while I collected myself.

It took a good long while. I lost track of time. But after awhile, I stopped shaking and changed clothes to lead a brief training session. Anything would have done, to shift my mind off the day’s events.

The players never knew what had happened and Masolini was under strict instructions not to tell them. So when we trained, I saw the same relaxed group of players who had made the trip from Padua.

I wish I could have said the same for Patty. Not wanting her to learn of the incident from the papers, I leveled with her when we got back to our hotel after dinner and told her everything that had happened – right down to the point of the knife blade. Obviously, we had had a different driver.

“He did try to hurt me,” I said, and the sounds of crying I heard on the other end of the line tore at my heart.

“I knew it,” she sobbed. “I knew someone would try!”

“Honey, he did try,” I admitted. “But the police had a trap set and I was never in danger. He never touched me.”

“You were never in danger? Rob, you said he had a knife!” Her voice had a touch of incredulity in it and I knew I had chosen my words poorly. Still, I tried my best.

“The police were right there and they took care of it. He’s in jail and he won’t hurt me – or anyone – for a good long time. It’s okay, Patty. It’s going to be all right.”

“You don’t know that, and I’m scared for you,” she said. “So I’m scared for me. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“I am too, honey,” I admitted. “I think I’ll sleep well tonight.”

It’s now 2:45 a.m. as I write.

So I guess I was wrong.

Sunday, April 13
Foligno v Padova – Serie C1A

“I’m talking to you from deep inside a real big empty.” – Col. Henry Blake, M*A*S*H*

“Where in the heck is everybody?”

I turned to Masolini and we looked around a practically deserted Enzo Blasone right at the end of pre-match warm-ups. I had hardly slept at all last night, and the only way for me to pass the time was to think about the match. An empty stadium wasn’t something I had counted on seeing today.

But then, it’s safe to say a lot of things have already happened on this trip that were not planned.

Masolini shook his head as we discussed the lack of attendance.

“This is what being at the bottom of the table will do to you,” he mused, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. I get that being bottom affects attendance, but the visit of the top club in the table evidently meant nothing at all here, and as I prepared for my pre-match teamtalk I realized we wouldn’t have a terribly large home advantage to overcome.

“Just relax and play within yourselves,” I said. “Obviously the fans aren’t beating the doors down to come see the match today so concentrate on doing the small things properly and keeping our lead. You can do it.”

We then went out and did it, which gave me a real reason to smile. The tiny crowd didn’t seem much into the match and that was fine with us, but from the moment our new coach driver met us at the hotel this morning I had a good feeling about how today would go.

We had a solid but largely ineffective first half as Foligno played with a lone striker and put ten men behind the ball. It was a classic stonewalling tactic but then a club with four wins from thirty matches might be expected to try to hold down the score a bit.

After playing two hours at midweek, I was quite surprised that Varricchio told me he was ready to play again today, but then he proved it in warm-ups this morning. So I put him in the XI and he didn’t let me down.

Four minutes before the break, he rewarded my faith by scoring the first goal of the match. He had a lot of help from Gentile, who made a terrific pass to help set up the scoring opportunity.

We got good linking play from Paz to start it, and his quick ball up the middle found Gentile in full stride 35 yards from goal. He had a little trouble controlling it, so he simply flicked the ball toward Varricchio’s run with the outside of his left boot.

I could almost hear trumpets sounding “Charge!” in my head as my big striker moved onto the ball, with a defender moving to cut the angle to the striker’s right. Varricchio looked over, looked at the net and finished past keeper Antonio Castelli with surprising ease from a full twenty yards.

Enzo Blasone, which was quiet enough under regular circumstances, was now almost totally silent while our fifty or so traveling supporters cheered on the first goal of the match.

You would have thought that might have been enough, and frankly I did too, but Massimiliano Brizzi didn’t agree. Two minutes later, he had the ball in our net, finishing with a flourish from a loose ball in our penalty area to Orlandoni’s right. What I heard next was surprising to me. It sounded like a ‘golf clap’, a polite expression of appreciation for a home goal.

Brizzi looked around as if to say, “Is that all I get?” for his opportunism. Yeah, that was all he got. My disappointment at conceding so late in the half was tempered by the fact that few people in the stands seemed to care.

The halftime whistle blew and I turned to Masolini as we walked to the changing room.

“You know, maybe all that nonsense from yesterday would have been easier to pull today,” I said. “Yesterday I think there were more people here.”

My message to the squad was upbeat. I remained convinced that we could handle them in the second half and I grabbed a statistics sheet to bear out my optimism. I saw the attendance scrawled in the top right corner of the sheet – it read 841, the smallest crowd for any Serie C1A match all season.

Despite the “Friends and Family” atmosphere in the stadium, the home team was buoyed by its goal and stiffened its collective backbone for the second half. From open play, we were again starting to show our ineffective side and my mobile phone soon buzzed to show Novara ahead 2-0 at home over Legnano. Two points of our lead were already gone unless we got better in a hurry.

Through most of the season’s second half, we’ve been poor at scoring from open play but we’ve been frankly excellent from dead-ball situations. We got a dead ball opportunity twelve minutes from time and made the most of it.

It shouldn’t have been terribly surprising that the provider was Baú, but it was. His corner from the right side came right back to him off the defense and Eder gave a funny look when he got the ball back. It was as though he was surprised someone would have the affrontery to reject his effort. That kind of cockiness was perfectly placed in this situation.

So he did it again, returning the ball to the six-yard box with nearly the same motion, and this time Varricchio piled through the mob of players in front of Castelli to head home. On 78 minutes, we had the lead with every intention of holding onto it.

Despite his heroics, Varricchio looked pretty tired, and after his second goal I pulled him off the pitch in favor of the newly-healed Paponi. Even that made me look good, as five minutes later Daniele had the ball in the net. Again, it came off a corner, but this time it was Gotti on the left who provided the service, and Paponi finished after the ball rebounded off the defense to the right edge of the six-yard box.

That was more than enough, and gave us a 3-1 win that flattered us a bit. It also enabled us to keep our advantage, with the end getting close. We lead by five points with nine left to contest:

	        Pl	W	D	L	Pts
Padova 	        31	20	9	2	69
Novara	        31	19	7	5	64
Cremonese	31	15	11	5	57

And that is reason to smile.

# # #

The other news, which is fortunate for us but potentially cripping for Novara: Davide Sinigaglia is lost to injury.

One-half of their “dynamic duo” will be lost for at least the first leg of our Serie C Cup tie and perhaps through their weekend match at Citadella, which holds down 13th place in the table. Obviously everything is a ‘must-win’ in the league for Novara at the moment if they want automatic promotion, but we know two wins from our last three will make us champions.

Looking at the fixture list, though, there’s little doubt which side has the easier run-in; it’s not us.

	                   Padova	       Novara
Sunday, April 20	Foggia (home)	Citadella (away)
Sunday, April 27	Monza (away)	Pro Sesto (home)
Sunday, May 4	        Venezia (home)	Paganese (away)

The advantage we have is that two of our final three matches are at home, but Novara doesn’t play a side currently out of the playdown places in any of their last three matches. Citadella is currently 14th, Pro Sesto is 16th and Paganese is 15th in the table. Meanwhile, Foggia is sixth at the moment, and Monza is tied with Venezia for seventh. We also finish with our biggest league rivals, and if Novara has a chance to overtake us on the last day, don’t think for a moment Venezia wouldn’t love to wreck our party plans.

And of course, there’s an equalizer in that we play each other twice in the Cup during that stretch. It will be odd, in that neither side will look at the Cup semifinals as a real priority – not until the league is decided. Should we defeat Foggia and Novara do anything but win at Citadella, we’ll be champions and the last Cup tilt we play with Novara will be a much better match. We’ll see, though.

Today’s post-match media gathering seemed nearly as big as the crowd. Okay, so I’m exaggerating, but with the end getting close I am starting to feel a little giddy.

“Left it late,” Emiliani said, at last with a smile on his face.

“You think?” I smiled, looking to make some sort of amends with my longtime adversary. “We played well enough to get a win out of here today but the scoreline flattered us. I can’t and won’t deny it. We were good enough today, though, and after the match at midweek I was worried about letting down. I’m glad the players were strong and worked hard to get the result we needed.”

“Is the league over now?”

“No.”

Emiliani looked up with mild frustration, pen poised over his notepad. “Go on,” he said.

“No sense saying three words when one will do,” I replied. “No.”

“You don’t care to elaborate.”

“Nope. I don’t. I’m happy with having to go out there again next weekend at home to Foggia and try to earn the championship in front of the home supporters. We’ve got a few more of them now than we had at the start of the season and they deserve to see the team lift the trophy at home if we can earn it for ourselves. But before we do that, we host Novara and they’re trying to prove a point to us. It’s going to be a good week of football.”
Foligno 1-3 Padova

Monday, April 14
It’s actually a good thing I was in Venice tonight.

After the story of the events of the weekend finally hit this morning’s papers, it was good for me to be both out of Padua and in the home of some of “The Supporters”. That is, it was good if I can believe Cipriani – and after last weekend, I think I can literally trust him with my life.

I scouted the match between Venezia and Manfredonia to get one last look at our final opponents, as well as scouting them under their new management.

That was the theory. In actual practice, I might as well have stayed home. The teams played to a goalless draw and Venezia is just about finished as a playoff contender as a result. Starting the match, they were tied for seventh place after free-falling out of the top spot they held earlier this season.

The appearance of Padova’s manager in Pierluigi Penzo is never greeted with enthusiasm, but my entry this evening was met with quiet respect. My “handlers”, if you will, who change every day, were close by if relatively anonymous. Tonight, though, they were hardly needed.

Unfortunately, it was all over the city this morning that Rob Ridgway had faced down a knife-wielding assailant on the team coach on the way to Foligno. You’d have thought I wore a red “S” on my chest on Saturday, and most of the media was pretty fanciful, especially the tabloids.

The chairmen of both clubs released statements today abhorring the events of the weekend and though the rank-and-file fan believes the clubs have nothing to do with the people involved, Sestaro has a real problem. A business arrangement made by the club resulted in someone trying to off his manager and it’s all over the Italian media as a result.

He did the only thing he could do – he terminated the relationship with the coach company – and the public prosecutor is going to move for a speedy trial. The police want to talk with the coach driver to see who handled him and where that trail might lead.

“The Supporters” may be about to unravel before our eyes, but since Italy has no system of plea bargaining per se, D’Agostino won’t gain anything by talking. So he may as well keep to himself.

In Sestaro’s case, it’s not as though he can blame me for this distraction. It sure wasn’t my fault. S0 he asked to meet with me this morning and apologized, which was a grand gesture.

However, the media’s sensationalism got bad enough that I had to make comment after the morning video session – partly to get them out of the training compound and also to correct the idea that I had somehow fought with the driver. I had not.

“Look, it just didn’t happen that way,” I said. “It was a police operation and when I returned to the coach from the changing room it all happened to go down. If I had gone someplace else instead of the coach, it might never have happened. I can’t comment any farther than that because there’s an investigation going on but please don’t turn me into some kind of action hero over this. I’m not. I’ve got Novara coming in here for the second time in ten days on Wednesday and really, I’ve more important things to think about.”

“More important than people in both Padua and Venezia who want to harm you? That’s hard to believe.” That was Emiliani and it didn’t surprise me to hear the question.

“Well, I’ve had some in the media tell me I spend too much time on the personal side of life anyway,” I replied dryly, and one local columnist was left a smoking wreck by the manner of my offhand reply. He didn’t say another word for the rest of the media session.

Sir Alex Ferguson once famously said that the best thing about Manchester United’s massive Carrington training complex was that “it keeps those f***ers from the media out.” I don’t have Carrington, but I do have the ability to tell media to let me do my job. And after I gave them their quotes this morning, they let me do just that.


Then it was off to Venice, for what seemed like the thousandth time this season.

As I entered Pierluigi Penzo’s main stand and took my seat, I received a polite ovation from the supporters. That surprised me, but I realized that with word getting around about the manner of both Patty’s accident and the threats made against me, some people felt they needed to make a public gesture against the type of yob violence becoming associated with both clubs.

I appreciated that, and for the first and only time I acknowledged another club’s fans. Obviously, the next time I come here I won’t be as welcome and I realize that. But in the interests of fair play, it was a great thing for them to do.

The match, as I’ve mentioned, was hardly worth the effort to watch as it was slightly less interesting than watching concrete harden. Not that I’ve done that, mind you, but if I had, I think they’d rank fairly close together.

It did tell me, though, that Venezia can surely be had. If the league goes down to the last day, I’m confident we can take them on our pitch. Five points out of our last nine on offer will get this job done.


Patty remains reluctant to let me out of her sight for the time being. That’s perfectly understandable but she also knows that being gone is a big part of my job.

Tonight she invited me over to her apartment after the match for a nightcap and we had a conversation that was frankly overdue.

“I’d like to know when I can stop worrying,” she said, as she poured me a drink. She sat next to me on the couch and our eyes met.

“About what?” I asked. “About my physical safety, or about other things?”

“That’s part of it,” she said, “but I have more important things on my mind.”

I smiled at her, not completely understanding her meaning, but then I saw a twinkle in her eye that I had never seen before.

“It’s time to talk about us, Rob. And I mean really talk about us, not like we did before my accident. The season is almost over, you’re going to do what you’re going to do in the close season, and I have a career I want to re-start. We have decisions to make.”

With that, she leaned back and draped a very shapely leg over my knee. I knew immediately what decision she wanted me to make.

I nodded. “Maybe I should have another drink,” I joked, but her expression told me her sense of humor was on holiday right at that moment.

“I’m sorry, honey,” I quickly added. “I shouldn’t have been so flippant.”

“I know what you meant,” she said. “But really, Rob, it’s time. I love you dearly but now we’re at the same point you were at with Kate and I need to know your intentions.”

“I’m taking that drink,” I said, and tossed back a small Bacardi and orange. “I’ve been thinking about this conversation for a long time myself.”

Tuesday, April 15
Patty and I talked until the wee hours, before I finally had to head home to prepare for today.

We are circling around the central issue. She hasn’t come right out and said “I want you to ask me to marry you.” Yet our conversation of last night was entirely fair to have and frankly vitally important to her for more than one reason.

Yes, we’re in love. Yes, we want to be together. But no, she doesn’t want to trot around Europe with a football manager boyfriend. She’d plainly rather do it with a football manager husband – or simply a husband if this career doesn’t work out for me.

I can see it in her eyes and I can hear it in her voice. She is ready to be asked, and I have some soul-searching to do.

As she noted, I’ve been at this point in my life before. All I have of that phase of my life is hurtful memories.

Kate and I were absolutely crazy for each other right up until the moment I wanted to put a ring on her finger – and told her I wanted to go back to the States.

Even the ring was fine with Kate. She told me she would gladly accept it and gladly become my wife – but it had to be in Reading. So I was hung out to dry.

Patty and I learned as much about each other while we were apart as we have learned while we’ve been together. I learned that her affections are powerful, deep and absolutely not to be trifled with. She learned that even though I’m sometimes a mess and don’t show it properly, I am deeply in love with her.

Yet as we lay in each others’ arms last night, talking about our future, I never offered the question despite her non-verbal readiness to receive it. I know what she wants, but I’m not yet ready to do the asking. She understands that, despite neither of us actually saying a word about it.

I think that understanding is a small part of what love is supposed to be about.

Here’s a new one: I got a phone call this afternoon from our ticket office to inform me that advance sales for tomorrow night’s match are much, much higher than expected.

While that is welcome news, our ticket manager also took the time to urge me to “put on a show” for the fans tomorrow.

I didn’t find that so welcome, even though I knew he meant well. I’m going to manage the club so it has the best chance for success on both the Cup and league fronts. The league is still out there to win.

To that end, many of our regular cup performers are in the XI for tomorrow. That means Donadoni is going to get the task of stopping Rubino straight up, and while he’s excited about that challenge he’s also a bit nervous. Rubino has now scored 34 goals in all competitions and is quite a tough assignment indeed.

Mario has carped all season about wanting his big opportunity. Well, now he’s got it, because Faísca is playing left back to rest Gotti for Sunday’s match against Foggia. With Antonazzo also out, we’re shorthanded at the back. It’s all hands to the pumps until we have our injured players ready to play again.

We’ll be playing most of our second eleven, and that’s that. Hopefully we can do well for a big crowd, but I’ll have greater success with the support if we win the league.

Big few games coming up, best of luck

Wednesday, April 16
Padova v Novara – Serie C Cup
Well, we got one thing right. The crowd was much bigger.

For the first time since I got here, Euganeo was more than half full. A comparatively stupendous 16,700 fans saw us draw with our rivals in the home leg of our Serie C cup semifinal tie.

That’s nearly double the highest figure we’ve had this season and the crowd was both active and involved in the match. When the players were on the pitch for pre-match warmups, we all looked around and saw the people filing in – having played before less than 1,000 on the road just last weekend. We went from the ridiculous to the sublime.

In fact, the attendance actually altered my team talk to an extent – which was a tactical error on my part. We could hear noises from the stands in our changing room, which hasn’t happened to us all season. Players started listening to those noises, and I gave in to one temptation that being a hot commodity can bring.

“They are out there because you won your way to this stage,” I said. “You’ve got a chance to win for the community this evening as well as a chance to win for yourselves. Grab that chance with both hands but think about those fans at the same time. As always, work hard for each other and play hard for each other. Make it happen.”

We then went out and played a good first half, buoyed by the crowd’s energy. Minus Sinigaglia, Novara was a different side and it showed. Donadoni did a fine job man-marking Rubino and it didn’t hurt us that he was crunched three times in the first 40 minutes by good, clean challenges that made him back off a bit.

Offensively, though, we were no great shakes. Our Cup specialist, DiNardo, couldn’t get near the Novara goal. When we did come close, their Brazilian keeper Tiago was superb.

The crowd got on its feet a few times in the half, most notably when DiVenanzio came close with a well-struck 15-yard volley from Cotroneo’s cross. Tiago blocked the ball with his forearms and his defense cleared the ball into touch. That was our best chance of the half.

Meanwhile, we held them off with comparative ease and I noted as we headed for halftime that the match was being played at our pace instead of theirs. The wide-open style they espouse, especially in Sinigaglia’s absence, was not there for them and that was obviously just fine with me.

I planned no changes to our shape or approach for the second half. It might not have been the most exciting football to watch, but in my judgment it was the kind most likely to bring results.

As the second half moved on, we kept creating chances in fits and starts. We were in the ascendancy for most of the match, but we couldn’t find a way past Tiago. Finally, with twenty minutes left I made my move, substituting Muzzi and Baú into the match and moving to 4-3-3.

What we got was more of the same, and only one quality chance after that, with Muzzi shooting over the bar six minutes from time from just inside the penalty area. It was a bit frustrating but to me the big thing was keeping a clean sheet at home. They hardly troubled us, so if we score on the road next week we are in excellent shape.

The crowd cheered us off the pitch, which was both a good sign and an indication that our efforts were appreciated if not our success in achieving results. For me, the big thing was keeping the mood of the squad good after a match they felt they ought to have won.

“Remember that this cup tie takes at least three hours of open play,” I said. “We’re halfway through it and now your goals count more than theirs do. Well done tonight – come in ready to start work for Foggia this weekend. They’re fifth in the table now which means they’re the last playoff team and they’re coming here with a lot to play for. Rest easy tonight. We start work tomorrow.”

With that, I went off to media, knowing the question I’d likely hear.


“Were you trying tonight?”

“What a question,” I sighed. “Yes, Stefano, we were trying tonight. We do have plenty to play for and one of the things we wanted to do tonight was not concede.”

“Might it not have been easier for you to score a goal, especially in front of this big crowd?”

“I’m aware that the objective of the game is to score goals,” I said. “However, as I told the players just now, this cup tie is a three-hour match. Half of it is done and our goals mean more than theirs do until the end of the tie. I look at the match as at halftime now. You evidently don’t, and that’s your right.”

“You’re five points clear with nine to play for,” I was reminded. “Shouldn’t that indicate that you have a margin for error in the league and could have played a more aggressive setup this evening?”

“We could, but at what cost?” I asked. “If we had been aggressive and lost, and then had trouble against Foggia this weekend, what would you write? We are happy with tonight’s result because we know the goal of this club is promotion first. We still have another match to go in this cup tie and from the sounds of your questions tonight you’d think we lost everything. Well, we haven’t. Not even close. So let’s put away those thoughts and move on to positive things, shall we?”

The look I got from many of the assembled – saying, in essence, “why would we want to do that?” told me what I needed to know.

“Anyone wants to talk about Foggia, that’s fine too,” I offered.

They didn’t want to change the subject. Welcome to the world of high expectations, Ridgway.
Padova 0-0 Novara

Thursday, April 17
That “high expectation” I mentioned yesterday is coming home to roost in a big way. The morning columns are out and it’s not just Emiliani who is on my case.

Our Cup run has attracted additional media attention and I had a run-in today with an old adversary.

Pasqualino Ruggiero, the Venice columnist who once suggested that I wasn’t interested in anything in Venice that wasn’t female, wrote a syndicated piece run locally today that shows a lack of understanding. Not just about football, mind you, but about why good clubs are good clubs.

Balló called my attention to the opinion piece by tossing a copy of the Venice paper on my desk as he reported for training.

“Good morning, Rob,” he said. “Here’s something that will get your blood flowing today.” He grinned at me, and I knew he was kidding. To a point.

I laughed, and read the article, which shaped my mood for the rest of the day. It wasn’t exactly positive:

We here in Venice have spent a good part of our season wondering why our Leoni Alati have not performed to the high level we saw them attain earlier in the season.

After the 2005-06 Serie C2 championship season, deficiencies in the squad and in the coaching staff were addressed to allow for further progress. Now, loyal supporters have had to suffer through the indignity of seeing rivals Calcio Padova blaze to success in both the league and in the Serie C Cup.

While watching Padova face the Venezia-conquering Novara side in the semifinal first leg at Euganeo, I am struck with the same question many people have been asking all season long: how is this happening?

Padova missed a glorious opportunity to spring into the ascendancy in this tie simply by playing a first-choice eleven. Manager Rob Ridgway has been rightly criticized in local media for a too-cautious approach that has shackled his side.

Results have been attained by Padova. That is inarguable. However, given the level of talent available to the first-year American manager, the Serie C1 championship and automatic promotion should have been assured from the moment Venezia began to falter.

One wonders why this has come to pass. One also wonders if we will see Padova once again in 2009-10 as a newly-relegated Serie B side.

“Charming,” I said, tossing the paper back onto the table.

“Did you read Emiliani today?”

“I try not to,” I grinned.

“He’s calling for your sacking if we fail to defeat Novara away. He said with a five-point lead in the league you should have started the first eleven last night and won the match.”

I laughed out loud. “He would say something like that,” I said. “I don’t worry about him.”

“Perhaps you should,” he answered. “Really, I am certain you are aware that stranger things have happened in this game.”

I shook my head. “Of course they have,” I said. “Fabio Capello won La Liga with Real Madrid last season and last time I looked Bernd Schuster was their manager.”

“I do not envy you, Rob,” Balló said. “There are times I do think it is better to simply be a first-team coach.”

Friday, April 18
Rumors are flying all over the city regarding Emiliani’s column yesterday.

I didn’t actually get a chance to see it yesterday – unlike most columnists, I do spend my entire day actually working – but the statement that is causing all the trouble is now sitting in a small frame on my desk.

All season, we’ve hinted at an unusual situation here in Padova. Repeated controversy surrounding manager Rob Ridgway has made achieving results of paramount importance.

A simple look at the table which Padova’s players have worked so hard to conquer, shows Ridgway’s potentially grave error in team selection for last night’s cup tie. A five-point lead at this point in the season is enough to ensure a first-choice eleven for a semifinal cup tie.

It must now be said. Without the results to accompany the controversy, Padova should sever ties with Rob Ridgway unless the Serie C Cup is won.

“That’s pretty plain,” I thought to myself as I finished printing the day’s training schedule from my notebook computer. “Well, we’ll see who wins that argument.”

I picked the printed schedules out of my printer and went off to work.


Foggia has climbed to fifth in the table through hard work.

They started slowly but have been one of the hottest teams in the league since Christmas. They do have eight losses, though, six incurred before the holidays, that have shattered their chances at the top spot. Still, they are right in the mix for a playoff position – if they can get a result at Euganeo.

Their top striker, Umberto Del Core, is going to require some serious attention. He’s scored twenty-six goals in all competitions – a full eleven more than anyone on my squad has scored – so getting him shut down is going to be a top priority for us.

I told this to the media today, and I received the same looks of amusement that I got when talking about Cremonese’s Gabriele Fabio Graziani. Since Graziani scored a goal in that match, I had the last laugh even as my club lost two points.

My central defenders are used to seeing me in training whenever we face a hot striker, and they expected to see me today.

Sacchetti, who usually draws the assignment of man-marking our opponents’ top scorer, was waiting for me with hand outstretched after training commenced this morning.

“Boss, the players are with you,” he said, and I thanked him for his kind words.

“Stefano, I do appreciate that,” I said. “We do have work to do yet but I think we are up to the task. You defenders are key to making it happen so let’s get to work.”


I received support as well today from an unlikely source.

Orlandoni was asked by the media what he thought of Emiliani’s column. Having played for Inter, his veteran presence and perspective was obviously important to those media interested in seeing the manager sacked.

Yet he said no such thing.

“In a way, it’s humorous,” he said. “Everyone goes through difficult phases of their lives, but what has happened to Rob has nothing to do with how this club has performed on the pitch. I feel very badly for what he’s going through and I don’t envy him. Yet sometimes I think the people who are criticizing him should come to Inter to see what real pressure is like. That isn’t to say we don’t have obligations here and we don’t have pressure, but people need to calm down. This is a good side that plays to its strengths. I believe one of those strengths is the manager. He has the respect of the players and that’s all that should matter.”

That probably wasn’t what Emiliani wanted to hear, but then concern for his opinion isn’t high on my list of priorities.

Saturday, April 19
Media has again brushed aside my thoughts on an opposing player. My gesture of respect for Del Core was pooh-poohed by the locals but what matters to me is that my players get the message.

They were quiet on Orlandoni’s published comments, which also didn’t surprise me greatly. The person who appreciated them the most was Patty – and that did matter to me.

She had a happy expression on her face this morning as I met her for breakfast at her apartment. “I could just kiss Orlandoni,” she said with a smile.

“Lovely, but I’d prefer you didn’t,” I grinned. She poured me a cup of coffee and we sat at her table.

“Do you really think they might not ask you back?” she asked. “And what would you do if that happened?”

“I really can’t think about it, sweetie,” I said. “Really, all I can do is the job I’ve been given to do. And you know I wouldn’t make any career decision without a long talk with you. That’s not negotiable.”

“I don’t know how you stand it,” she said. “I’d have snapped with Emiliani long ago.”

“It hasn’t been easy,” I admitted, munching on a piece of toast. “But I will say this – getting things patched with you has done more good for me than anything else I could name.”

“Even winning the league?”

Now my smile grew wide.

“Even winning the league,” I answered. “I’d have said you were a ‘once in a lifetime’ woman, but the fact you’re a ‘twice in a lifetime’ woman is a blessing I can’t even describe.”

She advanced to me and sat in my lap at her table. “Oooh, honey, that was smooth,” she teased, kissing me softly.

“Wasn’t intended to be,” I said. “But I sure am glad you think so.”


The day before a match usually features shadow play for us, and today was no exception. With the goal being to avoid injury, we simply want to make sure we know how the scouts expect Foggia to come after us.

They need a result, but they have enough firepower to try to get the result through playing football. There are clubs like Lecco and Pro Patria who have played us with ten men behind the ball. Foggia won’t be like that. They can play, and they are playing quite well right now.

That means, as I’ve mentioned, stopping Del Core. As hot as Muzzi and Varricchio have been this season, and as hot as Rubino and Sinigaglia have been for Novara, Del Core has carried Foggia nearly by himself.

I’m fortunate enough to have spread out the scoring load in all competitions – Baú, Muzzi and Varricchio are all in double figures on the scoresheet this season with the first and last on that list in the teens in the goal column. Still, we don’t have the true assassin up front that I’d love to have to get us to the next level.

There are those who will tell you that this person should be Paponi, but the only issue I have with my loan striker is the consistency of his play. I never know what I’m going to get with him so playing him is usually a calculated risk.

When he has the hot hand, he plays. When he doesn’t, he has been virtually invisible and I can’t risk him in the starting lineup. He has undoubted talent and needs to play, but as often as not I have elected to go with the more consistent players in my squad.

So there’s a bit of philosophy. What might get us the result tomorrow is putting that philosophy into action.

Sunday, April 20
Padova v Foggia – Serie C2A
We had a chance to get one hand on the trophy today and missed it. I am so mad at Andrea Gentile I can’t even talk to him at the moment, and we are fortunate indeed not to have dropped even more points.

Foggia showed they wanted to play from the opening kickoff today and frankly they deserved at least the point they got. I’m proud of a lot of what we did today but too much of our play was unworthy of a club with title pretensions.

I should have seen some of this coming when I arrived at the ground to learn our referee was Matteo Russo. Media keeps track of referee statistics and so do we – we know he has handed out six red cards in four Serie C1 matches and calls an extremely tight match.

As a result, that was a part of my teamtalk before the match.

“You’ll be tested today,” I told them. “You will have to play smart and you will have to watch yourselves with today’s referee. He will not tolerate nonsense, and he will not hesitate to show cards if you cross him. We have a job to do and I’m quite confident you can do it, but you have to be smart about it and you have to stay on the pitch. As always, play hard for each other. Get it done.”

We then went out and started very slowly indeed. Foggia came out differently than we had expected, running an attacking 4-4-2 that took some nerve to try away from home. However, their early play brimmed over with confidence and it seemed to show that coming out with an attacking stall was a good idea. They needed the result and showed it.

They proved their intent on twenty-one minutes with Del Core doing the damage. His clinical header from a corner kick left Orlandoni stranded and left us a goal down.

The central defense hadn’t gotten him marked and Sacchetti showed his disgust at himself even as I glowered at him from the technical area. Sharp words weren’t necessary in this case – the veteran defender knew he had let himself, and us, down.

Yet we weren’t done letting ourselves down. Seven minutes later Gentile came in with both feet on Del Core a full forty yards from our goal and Russo showed no hesitation whatsoever in sending him off.

I have never been a person who loses his temper on the bench but now I was steaming. Gentile walked past me toward the tunnel, the victim of his third red card of the season. Red-faced, I watched him go and turned to Masolini on the bench.

“There has got to be a consequence for that,” I said. “And there will be.”

My deputy shook his head. “I can’t imagine what he was thinking,” he replied.

Down to ten men, we now had to regroup for the rest of the half while Foggia piled forward. We got to halftime still down by a goal and I was then told Novara led Citadella 2-1 at their intermission.

I was in a bad mood when I entered the changing room and knew it was time for some “tough love”. Orlandoni had said I had the respect of the players – well, now was the time to find out if he was right.

They sat and looked at me. I paced back and forth across the room, saying nothing and letting the spirit of apprehension grow in the room. Then I finally spoke and when I did, I made my point in a big hurry.

“You know, I’m getting tired of coming in here at halftime and asking you to pick up your game,” I said. “We train all week, we work all week and then we come out and don’t perform. I’ve been positive and you’ve responded to that, but right at the moment I’m out of ideas. So instead, I’m going to tell you to use some common sense while you are on the pitch!”

The looks of surprise I got showed me they had heard my message, so I zeroed in.

“What on earth are we trying to do out there? We go out with a plan we don’t use, we don’t get their best player marked, he scores and then we go completely to pieces!”

I warmed to my task and the players were warmer when I was done. “Gentlemen, let me remind you that we are playing for something! I suggest you think about it and if you don’t want to go back out there and work for that goal, I’ll put in players who do!”

Some looks of resolution now appeared on faces and I knew it was time to build them for the second half.

“We have worked far too hard to simply flush it all away in the last three matches of the season,” I said. “The plan is good. Your application of that plan needs some serious consideration. Work for it!”

I then left to a quiet room and Masolini stepped forward. As I closed the door to stand in the hallway, I heard Masolini, for the first time all season, acting as a second ‘bad cop’.

“Rob is right,” he said, as I closed the door. “You were awful. Now here’s what we’re going to do about it.”


The second half saw more passion from my team than I have seen in weeks. They took the message to heart and despite playing with ten, we managed to get the score tied in the first minute of the second half.

We kicked off and headed straight down the pitch, with Caputo going down on a hard challenge about 35 yards from goal thirty seconds into the second half.

Baú lined up the free kick and hit a simply superb effort around the wall that keeper Michael Agazzi somehow stopped at full stretch. He slapped the ball back into play and onto the boot of Caputo, who struck a vicious drive from a very sharp angle to the keeper’s right that found the lower left corner of the goal to get us equal.

He reacted with joy, heading off to the corner flag, grabbing the logo on the shirt and pulling it forward for the crowd to enjoy. Since we had 8,815 in the stands today, more than a few people saw him do it.

I applauded the goal and stood in my technical area, hands on hips, signifying that the job was not yet done. The players’ joy was greeted with a simple nod of acceptance from me. I was trying to set a tone for my players and at the same time letting them know I wouldn’t stand for any slips.

Of course our goal re-energized Foggia and the result was a surprisingly entertaining eleven-against-ten second half. I wound up dropping Muzzi back into midfield again to go with a lone striker once the score was tied – even though I expected better from the players, I was still pragmatic enough to realize we were a man down. The players responded better than I had thought they would and nearly as well as I had hoped they could.

Scoring the equalizer on 46 minutes made it a long haul to defend the draw until the end of the match, but we managed to do it. It beat the alternative.

Del Core only troubled us once more, firing directly into the arms of Orlandoni from eighteen yards. Otherwise, for the rest of the match he wore Stefano Sacchetti like a cheap suit.

The central defender was stung both by the goal Del Core had scored as well as by my halftime comments and in the second half he was immense. He led the back line and by the time he was finished he had even supplanted Paz, who wore the armband today, as the leader of the team. I was very impressed with how he adapted to criticism, which I frankly have not had to use often with this group of players.

Russo sounded the full-time whistle and the first thing I did after shaking hands with the Foggia staff was get a score update from Citadella’s match with Novara.

“It finished 4-4,” I was told.

“Figures,” I said. “But at least we didn’t lose ground.” In fact, we took a huge step due to Citadella’s heroic resistance – a win at Monza next week will make us champions.

I headed into the changing room and faced the squad again.

“I do not ever want to have to come into this room again to speak to you the way I did at halftime today,” I said, and I had my players’ undivided attention. “We were undisciplined, erratic, and frankly lost out there for the first 45 minutes. In the second half you were a professional football team and you got a point your efforts deserved. Novara drew at Citadella today. One more good performance will win you this league. Think about that tonight.”

The spontaneous cheer that erupted from the players showed me everything I needed to know about desire and commitment. That was the good thing. The bad thing was that I was furious with Gentile.

I looked at him and he at me.

“Andrea, in my office,” I said, and turned for my door. Reluctantly, he followed. I closed the door behind us and motioned him to a chair.

“We’re going to come to an understanding,” I said. “This is your third red card of the season and that’s undoubtedly going to mean an added suspension for you. Now here’s the understanding. You’re going to give me a week’s wages and this isn’t going to happen again unless you want me looking for more central midfielders. Got it?”

He nodded, never having seen me this way before.

“Andrea, I don’t want to take your money but you leave me no choice,” I said. “You’ve already been sent off twice this year, once for violent conduct, and I just can’t have that. This is the most important time of the season, we need every point we can scratch and claw to get, and there you are making a two-footed tackle despite my direct warning not to do so because of the referee’s demonstrated record. I’ve warned you repeatedly about needing to stay on the pitch. What else do I have to do?”

“What you are doing, I suppose,” he said. “Are you going to put me on the transfer list?”

“No,” I said. “Look, Andrea, you’re valuable to this club. We need you, but we need you on the pitch rather than sitting in the press box watching us play. Especially at this time of the year! Right now you can’t do anything for us to get this league won.”

“Do you not think I’m upset about that?” he said, his eyes flaring. “Do you think I deliberately got myself sent off?”

“Of course not,” I answered. “But I do think you need to understand that when I give you an instruction for your behavior on the pitch, it’s not a request. Now we have a problem with your absence and it will hurt the team. Go home, and report with the squad in the morning.”

With that, he did.
Padova 1-1 Foggia

Monday, April 21
We had a light day today with our travel day coming tomorrow for Wednesday’s second leg against Novara.

I am more inclined to field a strong squad this midweek, obviously – I would like nothing better than to destroy Novara’s confidence for the matches this weekend before we play at Monza.

Again, the fixture list favors Novara – Monza holds down eighth place in the table while Novara is at home to lowly Pro Sesto – so we’ll need to be sharp and above all, we’ll have to get off to a better start than we did yesterday.

	        Pl	W	D	L	Pts
Padova 	        32	20	10	2	70
Novara	        32	19	8	5	65
Cremonese	32	16	11	5	60

Novara has another, smaller issue as well – they are now equidistant between Cremonese and ourselves with six points still on offer. The third-placed side has come on quite strongly indeed over the last few weeks and will be the in-form side in the playoff.

So we all have things to think about. We looked at excerpts of last Wednesday’s goalless draw at Euganeo and I didn’t have to show much because the players already knew what they thought of their performances.

Today’s media conversation was about Del Core and I was on the offensive.

“You know, I did tell you I think that player is a bit good,” I said. “Naturally, though, the Yank doesn’t know his arse from a hole in the ground, right?”

“You seem upset this morning,” Emiliani said. I laughed bitterly in reply.

“Naah,” I said, the sarcasm in my voice raining down like a cloudburst. “You’ve just publicly called for my head in a basket if we don’t win on Wednesday. I can’t imagine why getting the chop after a season like this one would upset a man. Can you think of a reason why that might be upsetting?”

“It’s a business,” he shrugged.

“It is indeed,” I replied. “I’ve shown I can do a decent job in it, so perhaps you’ll accept that. Perhaps you won’t. Anyway, that’s no skin off my nose.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” the reporter observed.

I’m walking another delicate line with Emiliani. If I lose my temper with him, the incident Sestaro says I can’t afford will surely happen. Yet I detest Stefano’s methods and I really don’t care who knows it. He hasn’t nearly the influence with me that he thinks he does.

Sometimes I agree with him, sometimes I don’t. But decisions on the football side of our operation have always been mine from the start of my tenure, and will be mine until I leave this club.

Media were all over Gentile as well, once the news of his club fine was leaked to the press. For his part, Andrea showed me a lot in terms of professionalism by not striking back.

“I got sent off and that hurt the team,” he said. “I don’t like to get fined but I’ve been sent off three times this year and that also hurts the team.”

For the record, Gentile has half of our sendings-off for the league season. We’ve had six red cards and 63 yellows shown to us this season in 32 matches. From a standpoint of yellow cards we average just under two a match and that’s not bad at all. Yet, the red card count is far too high. In addition, we won’t have our best scoring threat in central midfield available to us for the last two matches of the season. With the formation we play, that’s painful.

Tuesday, April 22
Patty has the most wonderful knack of surprising me in sweet ways.

Such as today. I didn’t go to sleep next to Patty last night but woke up next to her this morning. She came over from her apartment, let herself in, climbed into bed with me, and watched me sleep until my alarm went off. So I woke to her perfect face hovering over mine and to say I was surprised would be an understatement.

“Tell me this isn’t the way I should wake up every morning,” I smiled when I got over my shock, as she bent to me for a good-morning kiss.

“You’ll hear no such thing from me,” she said. “I like this just fine.”

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her gently to my chest, cuddling her as the sleep drifted from my brain. She stroked my face softly and I heard the sounds of the city waking up around us.

“Just keep right on doing this,” I sighed. “I can’t even tell you how much I enjoy it.”


Unfortunately, today was travel day for us, so we were on the coach leaving Euganeo at noon. It had all the feeling of a normal trip. I talked with our new driver, a kind older gentleman named Agnolo Corti, and he assured me that he had never in his life carried a knife. He also told me that he wasn’t about to start.

“You and I are going to get along just fine, then,” I smiled, as the running poker game continued around us.


I also received word by e-mail that Gentile will not play again in the league this season.

The Italian FA banned him an additional two matches for his sending off on Sunday. That will rule him out of Sunday’s match as well as the season finale against Venezia. If we win the league, he will also miss the first leg of the Serie C Super Cup, contested between the winners of Serie C’s two Gironi.

He is, however, eligible to play tomorrow night in the Serie C Cup, though he did not make the trip with us. Rabito will start in central midfield.

That’s not to punish Gentile and I made sure he knew it.

“Andrea, you’re also one card away from a suspension in the Cup as well,” I told him this morning before we left. “Rabito will play and if we reach the final I’ll consider you then. I have to find ways to keep you on the pitch and right now this has to be the way.”

Disconsolate, he left for home. I hated to give him that news, but indiscipline on the pitch got him to where he is now and he’s stewing in his own juices.


We did have a brief kickabout at Silvio Piola once we finally got off the coach. On the way off the pitch, we passed our rivals heading on for their own light training.

I passed Rubino and Sinigaglia, now healed and ready to face us tomorrow, and we exchanged nods of mutual respect.

Players on both sides exchanged handshakes – though our matches have been tough and physical they have always been clean – and I think that’s what sport should be. We’re all competitors but in the end, it is still a game.

I’ll say that quietly, though. I don’t want Emiliani to overhear.

Wednesday, April 23
Novara v Padova – Serie C Cup
Well, where on earth did this come from?

Without question we played our best all-around match of the entire season today, crushing our league rivals to earn a berth in the Serie C1 Cup final. We were excellent, and Muzzi was the best of all.

My veteran striker scored a hat trick to completely overshadow Novara’s goal-scoring machine and once we got ahead in the match we went straight for our opponents’ throats. I’ve been begging for just that kind of reaction all season and today my players gave it to me.

The good feeling started on the coach ride from our hotel late this afternoon. I stepped to the front of the center aisle and addressed the players.

“Gentlemen, let’s get this part of the talk out of the way right now,” I said. “Let’s commit to making the kind of start that will make reading the riot act at halftime unnecessary. You are 90 minutes away from getting to play for a trophy. At whatever level of football you play, that’s meaningful. It means something to the fans, it means something to the directors and chairman, and it ought to mean something to you. This is a chance for you to get a hand on the trophy and also to send a message to Novara that they can forget about catching you in the league. Let’s stay light, let’s stay upbeat and above all … let’s bury these guys once and for all.”

I sat down in my seat to silence. The players were thinking about it and that was all I could ask.


The players dressed for the match and they were still thinking. So I tried to get them to stop.

“Okay, men, let me have your attention,” I said, standing in the middle of Silvio Piola’s visiting changing room. “I have one other thing for you to think about.”

Baú gave me a look that seemed to say “What now?” but he corrected himself as I looked out at the players.

“You know that if you win tonight, both legs of the final are televised,” I said. “You’re going to have women from all over Italy watching you. Muzzi ought to like that.”

The striker, who always takes meticulous care regarding his appearance on the pitch, looked up like I had kicked him in the stomach. Then a wide smile spread across his face as he played along.

“I like that idea, but really, we might finally get Grujic a date,” he said. His protégé, who has been shadowing Muzzi in training, blushed a bright red. The comment loosened up the squad and from that point forward, they stopped thinking.


Muzzi then made sure the home team did all the thinking, and it took him only five minutes of the first half to do it.

Keeper Davide Micillo had no chance at all and as the play developed he didn’t even know he was helpless. Muzzi does not often play with his back to goal, but did in this instance, taking Rabito’s play-in ball just a stride inside the penalty area.

When Roberto gets the ball in that position he’s usually looking to pass and the entire league knows it. But this time, Roberto spun powerfully and blasted a sneaky, low shot into the lower right corner of Micillo’s goal.

You could see the shock registering on the faces of the Azzurro at conceding so early, and their realization they had their work cut out for them didn’t hurt us either.

I loved Muzzi’s reaction – he accepted congratulations but simply ran back to the center circle to get on with the job. His handling of the goal was perfect and it showed the rest of the squad that their work was far from finished.

That is, until he did it again just after the half-hour. This time the goal was classic Muzzi, as he whipped home a rebound of Baú’s sharply angled drive on 31 minutes to give us a second away goal. That had the home team really up against it and this time Muzzi showed a little more emotion.

This was also appropriate, as we had the opportunity to really put them away. For the first time in far too long, I saw genuine belief on the faces of our players. Finally, even the manager showed a little emotion, which the players certainly deserved.

That brought our hosts out of their temporary stupor and finally, Rubino showed us the scoring touch he’s shown everyone else in our league. He finished powerfully from the left side of Orlandoni’s six-yard box three minutes before halftime and that gave the home team some life.

The crowd of 4,372 rose to its feet to cheer on their club and we got to half without any further damage being done. The players gathered, perhaps expecting another roasting, but they weren’t going to get it.

“That’s what I want!” I exclaimed, clapping my hands for them as soon as the changing room door was closed. “You’ve got two away goals and they need to score twice to beat you. But you won’t let that happen. You’re going to go back out there and do the same things that got you to the lead and you’re going to put your boots on their necks. You can do this. Muzzi wants to show off for the ladies, so let’s help him, okay?”

The mood of the squad was excellent and I’d have to have been a fool to make a tactical change that might have altered it. The players rewarded me by playing their best second half of the season – bar none.

Caputo, playing at his imperious best, was the provider nine minutes after the restart, finding the rampaging Muzzi with a cheeky and highly accurate backheel pass just outside the penalty area. Roberto took two long strides to his right and didn’t miss, beating Micillo high to his right and for all practical purposes ending the tie.

Silvio Piola was virtually silent, with the only noise coming from the yelling of my players and about 100 of our hardest-core traveling support, tucked in the corner of the end we were now attacking. Muzzi ran toward them, saluting them with a cavalier toss of his hand.

Since Roberto had played ninety minutes on Sunday, I pulled him out of the match on the hour in favor of Paponi. The big kid didn’t disappoint either, finishing the scoring 13 minutes from time with a fine looping header over Micillo’s despairing arm from Gotti’s inch-perfect cross.

4-1 to the good, the rest was simply a matter of running out the clock, which we did with ease. The players streamed onto the pitch at the full-time whistle, having well and truly earned a trip to a cup final.

I turned to Masolini on the bench and we shared a handshake.

“Whatever you told them at half of the Foggia match seems to have worked,” I said.

“Nothing to it,” he said. “I told them if they didn’t shape up the boss was going to be hell to live with. Nobody wanted that.”

I laughed, as we headed to shake hands with the disappointed Novara staff. “Am I that much of an ogre?” I asked him.

“No,” he said. “They just know what you’re going through for them.”


We have learned our opponent in the final – and they are going to be a handful.

Like our own Girone, Serie C1B is going right down to the wire, a two-horse race between Perugia and Pescara, with the former leading on goal difference with two matches to play.

Perugia will be our opponent in the two-legged Cup final, and there’s a definite possibility we could play our final four matches of the season against them if we meet in the two-legged Serie C Super Cup as well.

Of course, we both still have league business to do before that can happen, but Novara now knows we won’t be easily moved heading into this weekend’s matches.

The first leg of the Cup final will be May 17 at Euganeo with the return leg a week later at Renato Curi in Perugia. Ths will extend our season, with a full two weeks between our last match against Venezia and the first leg of the Cup final.

So the players will get one more chance to rest while we prepare for the final sprint – and hopefully, a double.
Novara 1-4 Padova