Calcio weekend

Last weekend was soccer weekend for me. Three matches to watch. Oh my. One can have too much of a good thing.

Anyway, the first was in Sambuca, with Sambuca de Sicilia playing against Contessa Enitella, a nearby rival. It was a game for young adults, much like many of the slow pitch games one sees in the states. However, there were some significant differences. The game was played as part of the league system of soccer in Italy, and of course for these two small towns, the league was pretty low. Although nominally a dilletante league, the players, or at least some of the players, were payed up to five euros per game. Not enough to buy a Ferrari, but still, professional is some way. I chose to watch this game because Salvatore, the assistant baker at the Paneficio Americano where I get my bread was one of the players for Sambuca. Later I learned that the son of the assistant manager at Mail Boxes Etc, where I rent a postal box, was playing for Contessa.

There was another startling difference between these matches and the slow pitch (or even fast pitch) softball games, or broom ball games, or hockey games, bowling leagues, city rec basketball, or whatever other sports are the norm in the US. The beer cooler was absent. Indeed, the cold water that was on hand was mostly for pouring on the players when they were injured. I later found out that after the games, most of the players just went home, instead of going to the sponsoring tavern to celebrate their win or drown the sorrows of another loss.

Sambuca ended up winning the match, 2-1, although I left at half time so I could listen to NPR's wait wait don't tell me on the computer. One must keep one's priorities straight.


Sunday morning, I met my friend Fabrizio at 8:00 AM in front of his house. We drove his son Sergio to Villafranca, about forty five minutes away, so that Sergio could be the referee (arbitro) for a match between Villafranca and Ribera. Actually, the match was between the soccer schools of the two towns, so there was not really any question that beer would not be available there. We had watched Sergio referee a game between Santa Margherita and Ribera earlier this year, so some of the players were known to me.

What I really noticed in this game, aside from the beauty of the almond trees in full blossom, was the difference in size between the two teams. Many of the Villafranca players, well, at least three of them, must have been half a meter shorter than most of the players on the Ribera side.

Of course Sergio again refereed a great game. Villafranca was vastly outgunned, their goalie was really too small for the job, and Ribera won the match 11-2. There were some good plays, and the Ribera coach this time pretty much behaved himself, and at the end of the match, once again, instead of going together for some sort of celebration, the players either walked or were picked up by parents to go home and do something without the team.

I did remember what it was like to be involved in such sports, and be one of the two players on the bench for the losing team. It was interesting to me that when they got to play, the players for whom they went into the game for left the soccer pitch. I would have thought they would stay to cheer on their mates. Oh well.

Finally, to cap off the weekend of soccer, after going to Fabrizio's house and eating a wonderful pranzo prepared by Gabriella, his wife, a few other friends came over to watch the Palermo-Catania match. This was to be a hotly contested match, as Palermo needed at least a tie to stay in the running for UEFA cup next year, and with Catania also being a team from Sicily, it was considered a derby match, like when Milan plays Inter (both based in Milan), or when Juve plays Torino, or when the Cubs play the White Sox.

Important or not, the score was a dismal 0-4 at the end. Not Palermo's best effort. To underscore the difference between fandom here and in the states, you will notice in the picture below that none of us is drinking or snacking during the game. I am actually used to that now, but it seemed strange the first few times I watched a match with friends.