Alpha Romeo Metaphor II

Hellas Verona v. Bologna

View attachment 259092Saturday, 23 January 2015

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Another wet, cold match. As per usual, I'm bundled up for arctic conditions. Luckily for the traveling Rossoblus, Hellas Verona sticks the away fans up under the roof behind one of the goals. Virtually all the fans, it's only half full, are up under the roof.

I greet and exchanges jokes with Vangelis Moras during warm-ups. The Verona defender joined Bologna in my second-to-last season ('07/08) and we'd had a great season together in 2007/08 getting the Rossoblus back into Serie A.

View attachment 259090Gyorgy Garics and Bernardo need rests so new boy Danilo Bernabini slots in at right back and David Monteleone will partner Dedryck Boyata in the middle of the defense. I tell my guys to end the bad run, to be extra vigilant just before halftime and win this one.

Despite all of the rain, the ball is rolling and bouncing fairly true at the Bentagodi. We work hard to make sure that Verona can't get anything going early and we created some pretty decent chances.

In the 9th minute, Andrea Russotto collected the clearance from his free kick and took off on what appeared to be a kamikaze run right at all the players runn out at him. He beat four and got a shot off, but their keeper managed to steer it around the post.

In the 14th a Dejan Stojanovic saved our skins by tipping a Federico Bernardeschi shot around the post on a very threatening Verona counter attack.

In the 18th, Shawn Parker launched a pile driver that hit Verona keeper Rafael and bounced to his left. Russotto was lining up the bad angle shot when Moras took his legs out.

I'm up and off the bench (where it's out of the wind and dry, mind you) and screaming at Antonio Damato.

"PENALTY! PENALTY! HE TOOK HIS LEGS OUT FIRST!!"

"This is unbelievable," I say to the fourth official as I run up. "Were his glasses fogged by the rain?"

Damato doesn't wear glasses. The fourth official ignored me.

"I demand an explanation of how that wasn't a penalty," I said.

"Antonio says he got the ball first," the fourth official replied after they exchange words over their headsets.

I stomp off back to the dugout.

In the 22nd minute, Russotto receives a pass just over the half line and takes off running down the right touch line. Suddenly, he cuts inside and leaves the left fullback and a midfielder behind him. He beats Moras and has an open shot. But he doesn't shoot. He takes too long to line up the shot and Moras pokes the ball away. Bernabini runs up and blasts the loose ball high across the track that encircles the field and into the stands.

In the 29th minute, Russotto is lining up a corner. Michele Pazienza is standing six meters out at the near post all alone. Andrea lasers in the corner and Paz redirects a flick header in.

0-1

Edoardo Reja is up and out of the dugout screaming at his players. Can't say I wouldn't be doing the same thing.

In the 33rd minute, nobody picks up Romulo's run from deep and Bernadini hits a perfectly weighted pass into his path. He's in alone on Dejan but my keeper doesn't have to make a save because David Monteleone comes flying in with a waterslide tackle that looks to me like he got all Romulo and eventually got ball. But the danger is cleared out to our right flank. Wait, no it isn't. De Ceglie gets to the ball first and sees Bosko Jankovic wide open. The Serbian international had been jogging upfield and nobody marked him.

He crushed a shot that nicked the crossbar and then the post before bulging the side netting.

1-1

We nearly gave up several goals towards the end of the first half. So I'm up on the sidelines, screaming instructions and encouragement through the rain.

As the clock is approaching 45 minutes, Verona hoofs a ball forward. Jankovic controls it and my defense retreat just like they played for Cadiz. I'm screaming ****** murder for them to stop retreating and step up. Boyata eventually does and nicks the ball off him.

But it goes right to Bernardeschi. He slides a ball forward for Federico Viviani who first times a shot from a bad angle. Unfortunately, Dejan was covering the angle all that well and gave up too much of the far side of the net which is precisely where Viviani placed his shot.

2-1

I only got more frustrated, more wound up and angrier as I got closer to the away locker room. I don't remember exactly what I said but I'm pretty sure I was swearing in all three of my languages. I probably said some stuff about not letting in goals just before half time like we had in the last three matches. There were some pretty grim faces looking back at me.
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We play much better even though the conditions were deteriorating the further we got into the second half.

In the 65th, Francesco Migliore crosses in from the left. It's cleared but right to Simone Pasa. Simone zips a pass into the box for Parker. Everyone had forgotten about Shawn and he had time to control the ball, look up, look down and blast a shot past Verona's Brazilian keeper.

2-2

We rode this one out. Neither team got lucky and I suppose I should be happy enough that we drew away from home in difficult weather conditions. But of course I am not.

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Sunday, 24 January 2016

Today was a great day to sit inside and watch calcio. Practice was miserable as the weather varied between sleet, wind-driven sleet and it hailed once.

Juventus edged Cagliari to leap over AC Milan into first. Inter stumbled away at Atalanta. Roma continue to claw their way up the table. With Inter five points behind Juve, they could be out of the consideration for the Scudetto. Our next opponents, Sassuolo clung on after having a man sent off for a 0-0 tie against Torino.

We drop to 8th.

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Bologna v. Sassuolo

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View attachment 257675Wednesday, 27 January 2016

View attachment 257674Surprisingly, the match officials didn't call it off and the Renato Dall'Ara looked fairly full. Temperature was 0C with strong winds and driving rain. I swore to myself that I was going to stay in the dugout the entire match. As you would expect, I was wearing the full arctic Bologna Wear (running tights underneath, boots, parka with hood up, hat and scarf).

Sassuolo set up very defensively, packing the midfield. In the 4th minute, Federico Casarini spun past the midfielder who was defending him and splashed a pass up to Shawn Parker. Shawn sloshed forward and when defenders converged, turned and skipped the ball back to Casarini. Casa squared the ball to Michele Pazienza who one-timed a pass between a central defender and the right back for Gaël Kakuta to slog up to.

Gaël smashed his shot past the helpless Neroverdi keeper.

1-0

This looked more like polar water polo than Calcio. We celebrated without leaving the comfort of the dugout.

Pazienza nearly got his second assist of the match when he fed Parker in the 16th minute, but Shawn's shot swished wide. In the 34th, Sassuolo's central defender Paul Papp pulled down Parker in the box but Gianpaolo Calvarese waved off our protests.

Just as I was about to race out toward the fourth official, it started hailing. I decided the safety was better than complaining, bravery and valor. Calvarese ordered everyone into the dugouts until the hail ended a few minutes later.

From the restart in the Neroverdi end, my players forgot how to defend. Normally, we pressure the ball high up the pitch, but our midfielders retreated some and my defenders sprinted for the top of our box. I looked over at my Assistant Manager Venti and my Defense Coach. Venti looked like he was puckering every orifice and Xxxxx was covering his face and looking out from between his fingers.

They switched the play over to our right flank as Gyorgy Garics and Andrea Russotto weren't paying attention. Fausto Rossi dropped a shoulder, Garics bought the feint and Rossi raced for the end line. I watched Aroune Kone arriving late to the box and nobody tracked him except Rossi who delivered a cross which he smashed past Dejan Stojanovic.

1-1

Punished for yet another momentary lapse of concentration. Again.

From the kick-off, Kakuta sloshed up the left beating two midfieldres and the right back. He whipped a cross in through the sleet and Parker deflected it goalward. The Neroverdi keeper didn't really have time to react. It hit his knee then off the post and landed with a splat centimeters from the goal line. The grateful keeper smothered it before Shawn could get to it for the tap in.

And that was the last of the action from the first half. I sent the kit man into the locker room with five minutes to go to get dry kits ready for all eleven players.

"There's twenty-eight thousand fans out there who have it worse off than you guys," I said in the locker room. "You guys get to run around to stay warm. They just have to stand there and get turned into ice statues. Let's go out there and give them a performance, okay? I have faith that you guys can overcome their defense and make those twenty-eight thousand souls happy."

We created a great opportunity right from the kick-off but the Sassuolo keeper managed to block it and the ball squished out for a corner.

From the goal kick, the Neroverdi came alive. We were stuck in our end. In the 52nd minute, midfielder Francesco Magnanelli shot high from the top of the box, in the 55th nobody challenged Kone as he advanced towards our box. I actually leapt off the bench to scream at my defenders not to retreat like that and to keep a tight distance between them and the midfielders. Not that they listened. Kone blazed a shot inches wide of Dejan's left post.

Our defense tightened up after I was done screaming and gesturing, but we couldn't get out of our half for more than a few seconds.

In the 67th, they finally made us pay. They skidded a pass into Kone who was clearly in an offside position. Bernardo and Monteleone both had their hands up, but I'm not sure if the linesman could see that well through the thickening sleet. As everyone turned to see what they were certain would be an offsides call, the linesman sprinted upfield. The ref signaled goal.

1-2

Okay, the ref blew that one. But how the **** does Bernardo let Kone jog past him into an open position between he and Monteleone. Seriously. Did the sleet get in his eyes?

I was still ******** to Vinti several minutes later when Russotto shut me up with a promising run up the right flank. Despite the sleet, poor traction and cold, he was managing to give the fans some dangle and make the two midfielders and left fullback look amateurish. He chipped a pass in to Casa and took off upfield. Since none of the three defenders marked Andrea, Casa squelched a pass right back to Russotto. Andrea took it in stride then skipped a pass into the path of Shawn Parker.

Skadoosh and we were level.

2-2

Keeper never had a chance with that howitzer of a shot.

The last ten minutes were exciting for the fans. They were misery for me. The slush was starting to build up and the sleet was changing to snow. The ball was starting to do strange things like stop dead when you would expect it to bounce or skip, skip when you expected it to bounce. The match degenerated into a comedy of flailing legs and highly paid and rather skillful professionals looking like little children in a kick-about.

Kone nearly scored twice and Kakuta, Russotto and Loris Damonte missed chances to win it for us. But **** it, I'll take the point. Miserable fkn weather and all.

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View attachment 257171Thursday, 28 January 2016 8:33AM

Waiting to greet me when I arrived at Casteldelbole was about 50 Rossoblus with protest signs. They were chanting "Casarini, Casarini, don't go Federico" alternating with "Guaraldi out!" Do you recall when I introduced you to Noam? He's the former Massad agent who now runs security for the club. He and Enzo cleared a path through the gathering throng so that I could get through. I thought I recognized a few of the people despite how bundled up they were.

I parked The Alpha and walked back to the gate. I decided that the best way to address the crowd which had increased by a few was to climb up on the gate so they could all see and hear me. So up I climbed.

"Good morning and welcome to Casteldelbole," I hollered as they saw me climb up and then moved over to hear me. "I apologize for not having any coffee or pastries or anything, but we didn't know you were coming."

"ARE YOU GOING TO SELL CASARINI?" A man who might be Christian Venturi, President of the Forever Ultras, under his parka, hat and scarf yelled.

"Not if I can help it," I said. "As far as I know, Everton haven't approached us. I heard this rumor the same way you all did: In La Repubblica."

"LIAR!" someone in the back yelled.

"Step on up to the front and say that to my face, you fkn limp dicked, cowardly, mauve-loving ****bag," I said back. Just so you know, Rossoblus loath Fiorentina, nicknamed the Viola, above all others and mauve is rather purplish.

Nobody budged.

"Now where was I," I continued. "First of all, you guys know how much I love this club. I have done a lot already to stabilize the club and I'm not going to do anything that is not in the club's best interest. I'm going to go back in and talk to Guaraldi ..."

"GUARALDI OUT!" someone else from the back shouted.

"... and find out if there is any truth to this story," I said. "Are you guys planning to stay all morning?"

"GUARALDI OUT! CASARINI STAYS! GUARALDI OUT! CASARINI STAYS!..." they started chanted.

I held up my hands to calm them down.

"Okay, so you're staying," I said once they'd quieted down. "Well I'm going to call to get some coffee and pastries delivered for you guys because I love you. Then I'm going to go and talk to Guaraldi. Then I'll be back to talk."
 
View attachment 256735I walked into the cafeteria and talked to the morning prep cook and the morning chef. They recommended a place to deliver some coffee and pastries. As I made the call, I walked over to the club offices to have a talk with Albano Guaraldi. I'd seen his car so I knew he was in.

"Good morning, Albano," I said as I entered the open door to his office. The President was sitting behind his desk. In the comfy chair off to the side was Director of Football Roberto Savoia. One quick look at their faces and I could see that something was up. I nodded at Savoia and said: "Roberto."

They exchanged glances.

"So what's going on?" I asked. "Has Everton made a bid?"

"No," Albano replied. "I haven't heard anything at all via any channel from them."

Thanks be to God.

"You have that look on your face that tells me you want to talk about something," I said.

Albano glanced at Roberto. Roberto cleared his throat then fidgeted.

"We need to talk about Bologna's transfer policy," Roberto said.

I had completely marginalized Roberto. Normally, European teams have a Director of Football who buys and sells players. Sometimes this person does it with advice from the Manager, but often times not. Managers often only last a year or three max. The Director of Football, if they're good, gives the club some continuity. Until I arrived and forced a more English system upon them, Roberto had had an important role at the club.

In my opinion, he has no idea what he's doing and we are succeeding because he had become irrelevant. And I am certain that this situation infuriated him.

"You have purchased two teenagers for a considerable sum of money when the squad needs reinforcements," he said.

"We do?" I asked.

"Obviously," he replied. "Look at this poor form of late."

"To quote Albano 'what place in the table are we?'"

"But our poor form could soon land us in trouble and you haven't done a thing to strengthen the squad."

"Oh," I said. "And what would you have me do, Roberto? Sign some of the players you've suggested?"

He looked at me with the look you give a small child who is simply incapable to understand the concept you are trying to explain.

"Yea, all those strikers and wingers you've been suggesting that have spent their entire careers in Serie C and Serie B? And why do you always suggest players over thirty? Because they'll be expensive? Oh, right, because we need experience."

Roberto glanced over at Albano.

"And because they don't have the quality we need? I'm not building a squad off aged has beens and never beens to bounce back and forth between between Serie A and Serie B. I'm recruiting players who can make a difference for us in Serie A. And when we sell someone, it's because first that we have a younger replacement and two because we're getting an obscene amount of money."

"And must I remind both of you," I said getting rolling. "What has happened in the last five years? You, Roberto, put the squad together that got relegated, that were not quality enough for Serie A. Do you want to go back to that, Albano? Do you want to go back to 'Guaraldi Out' chants every day?"

"And one more thing," I said. "If we beat Atalanta this weekend, and we have a very good chance because of their naive and suicidal 3-4-3 that they play, we'll have 37 points. And both of you should know that no team with 37 points has been relegated since Chievo was relegated in '06-07. My mission will then be accomplished and we can push on and see if we can do something ridiculous like qualify for Europe."

"It comes down to this," I said. "Whose vision do you want? His or mine? I've got to go and get ready for training."

And with that I stormed out of Guaraldi's office.
 
That evening, Juventus destroyed Sampdoria in Genoa. It was entertaining in the sense that Juve are unstoppable and the rest of Italy can only sit by and watch The Grand Old Lady march towards a fifth successive Scudetto.

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They now have a 6 point lead over AC Milan. I can't see Juve giving up this lead.

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View attachment 256142Saturday, 30 January 2016

Still nothing from Everton. I continue to live in hope.

Cagliari did us a favor and beat The Viola. If we win tomorrow, we'll be in seventh.

Inter's title challenge is all but over after their loss in Stadio Olympico to Lazio.

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Serie A: Atalanta v. Bologna

View attachment 256136Sunday, 31 January 2016

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Everton have only a mere 30 hours left to buy Federico Casarini. We haven't received an offer, yet. But every time my cell jangles or dings I nearly **** my pants.

3,000 Rossoblu are crammed into the away corner and displayed a Casarini Please Stay banner the size of the away corner. Bergamo's Atleti Azzurri d'Italia is not quite half full which means there are only 7 or 8K Atalanta supporters in attendance. Oh yeah, and the weather sucks. Well, I mean it's not raining or snowing, but it's fkn cold.

I think word got around about my interaction with the fans and with Guaraldi and Savoia. First, because Enzo is a good ally and would retell and embellish and turn the interaction into a legend given enough time. And secondly, because I left the door open so nearly everyone in the office could hear me. The players had noticed that I was a little extra fired up. I used this in my pre-match talk. I told them Savoia doesn't think they're good enough and wants to be put back in charge of buying and selling players. I told them to prove that he's got it all wrong.

Maybe my speech didn't work or maybe it was just too cold. We let Atalanta charge down the pitch and Simone Padoin fed Matej Vydra and the only alert player on the pitch, Dejan Stojanovic, made a fabulous foot save or we would have gifted them a goal inside a minute.

I was up off the bench and screaming at them to tighten up.

Pintos tried to show how committed he was to the cause but nearly got booked for a poorly timed tackle. A minute later and Francesco Migliore was warned. Thankfully, we had woken up.

In the 13th minute, Bernardo nearly shattered the crossbar with a free header from a Gaël Kakuta corner. The ball careened at high speed directly at Shawn Parker. He had the presence of mind to adjust his feet and side foot the ball into a gap between defenders.

0-1

We had a real scare in the 24th minute. Bernardo followed fellow Colombian Duvan Zapata out to the flank. They exploited the gap and Dedryk Boyata blocked Vydra's shot. The ball rolled out wide left and Padoin hammered a bad angle shot that nearly wrong-footed Dejan but he managed to do another foot save for a corner.

In the 33rd, we had another corner. Kakuta curled in another near post special for Bernardo. This time he had a marker but shrugged him off and glanced a header that evaded the Atalanta keeper and bulged the far side netting.

0-2

I realized that as halftime approached I was grinding my teeth and mumbling under my breath. I was urging my players to maintain focus in those critical last seconds before the half ends. We'd talked about it, now would they do it.

Nope.

Suddenly, no player on either side could control a pass, head the ball correctly or pass to a teammate. It was embarrassing. Recognizing this, somebody should have just put their foot through the ball and cleared it to safety. But, no. We attempted to suicidally pass our way out of the stupidity. Atalanta should have scored twice but there's a reason they're in 15th place and in a relegation dogfight. They blew to golden chances to score that we presented to them on a platter.

Then in the 44th, we cleared a corner back out to our right flank from where it came.

I warned my players not to get complacent in the locker room. Luca Cigarini curled in a second try. Zapata stepped backward to position himself for the header. He didn't have much power on it but he hit it perfectly. In baseball, they call this a seeing eye single. The ball just knew where it had to go and got there. It bounced on the goal line a millimeter away from Dejan's glove.

1-2

I warned my players at half time not to get complacent. I also replaced my teenage Uruguayan prodigy, Pintos. He just didn't have the legs, yet. On went Andrea Russotto.

And the first fifteen minutes of the half, they did great. Atalanta didn't really have any chances. This continued through the 60s and the 70s. I pulled out Simone Pasa who was looking exhausted. Then we choked on three successive chances to ice the game.

I knew we were going to pay for this.

In the 83rd, we cleared a corner but only to Padoin. He lofted a ball into the corner for Cigarini. Cigarini leapt and whacked a cross towards the middle. Directly into the path of Zapata who had the easiest of redirections to level the score.

2-2

Where the **** was our marking? Boyata was the nearest defender but let his man get the better position and muscle him off.

I had been about to start yelling at my players to re-position to defend the lead. Now I was urging them on to find a winning goal. I had Loris Damonte and Leonardo Guerra warming up. Loris is the defensive option, so on went Guerra for Michele Pazienza. Now I have to player-makers on the pitch: Guerra and Casarini.

The game now resembled basketball. Each side would race to the other end and try to get a shot off before the 30 second clock would buzz. Since Atalanta play with three at the back, my wingers Kakuta and Russotto were always open and always had room to run.

I dreaded every Atalanta advance up the field and hoped against hope that we could create something on our attacks. But every chance for both sides fell apart or was squandered.

The fourth official signaled 4 minutes of extra time. Bernardo got carded in the 91st minute. He'll miss the next match.

As the clocked rolled over 94:00, Antonio Vacca won a header in the center circle out to the right for Guerra to run onto. Leonardo zipped a pass up the line for Russotto to chase. As the left back and a midfielder converged, he pulled the ball back and onto his weaker right foot. He smashed the ball hard toward the penalty spot.

AND FEDERICO CASARINI MET IT WITH A MURDEROUSLY ACCURATE KNIFE INTO THE GUT OF ATALANTA!!!

2-3

He ran toward the bench, but straight past us and all the way into the far corner where the Rossoblus were absolutely losing their minds followed by his teammates and everyone on the bench. He kissed the Bologna badge on his shirt and blew kisses to the faithful. They lapped it up.

Atalanta restarted and managed a second kick of the ball before the ref ended it.

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PatrickLFC said:
What an ending! You couldn't write it!
Click to expand...

Casarini is one of those players with all kinds of awesome hidden characteristics. Casarini's stats aren't all that great, but when he's on his game he is a cold-blooded, villainous murderer with a penchant for late game heroics. That's why I really, really, really, really don't want to lose him.

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