Back to happy times, today was a much better day. Today began mundanely as all Friday’s do because of an hour and a half of italian class. Many of us are upset that we have class Fridays because we only have italian 4 days a week. To us it would make sense that class went Monday through Thursday rather than Monday through Wednesday and Friday. That way we would be able to travel longer and get two full days in a place rather than 2 nights and 1 1/2 days. But C’est la vie…Life goes on.
After class and lunch, I took the afternoon slowly because of my impending try out. I took a nap, did some homework, and caught up with a few friends who would be heading up to Tahoe (a little jealous…) for a while. At about 8:15, I met Francesco, our Student Life director, who would drive me to Torrino. Torrino is at the southwest end of the city, past EUR and close to the Circonvallazione Meridionale or A90, the freeway that circles the Roman province.
On a side note, EUR seems to be a very interesting place even though I only drove through it. It was designed and built under Mussolini to be a universal center. All the streets are named after other places such as Viale dell’ Oceano Indiano or Via del Cina (Indian Ocean Street and China Street respectively). The architecture is mostly neoclassical, the most interesting of which is a square colosseum. Francesco said it is a very fascist building, to me it was just a cool interpretation of the ancient colosseum (http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/pm/birdsc.JPG).
Once we drove through it, Francesco was lost. Apparently, Torrino is a new part of the city which is growing rapidly and he never frequents these parts. It was drastically different than any other in Rome that I have been. It could have been any other city in the world. The apartments looked like run down modern buildings and there were even houses with front and backyards. We stopped every few streets and asked a friendly by-standard if this was the right way to Zero 9.
Zero 9, the sports complex where the pool was located, was a tremendous building that housed the indoor olympic size pool. I was first surprised by its size and second by how similar it was to one in the states. We waited for Francesco’s friend Fabio, who was my gatekeeper to this new community. When we arrived we exchanged the common pleasantries, Ciao Mi Chiamo Josh. Ciao, Mi Chiamo Fabio. Come Stai? Bene Bene. E Tu?… Francesco translated that I was to come with him get changed and get ready to play because Fabio’s grasp of the english language was not too hot, which would add some comedy later on.
The locker room was pretty standard, and I changed or squeezed my way into my tiny speedo that has been sitting in my closet for over a year now. Fabio asked in italian, “What position do you play?”, but I thought he asked, “How long have you played water polo?” So I answered with, “Otto,” he responded with a weird expression and we knew something was lost in translation. He gave up after a couple more tries and decided to wait for another player that could speak to me. We exited towards the pool, set our stuff down (for some reason we didn’t leave it in the locker room) and I jumped in the pool. I swam 2 laps, which took forever! I’ll say it was because it was 30 or 35 meters, but was probably more related to my current level of athleticism and stamina. This was the first lap I had swam since winter break, and this would be the first time I played in a water polo game in a year and a half. A couple more laps, of breast stroke, and I was warm. I started passing with Fabio and the motions slowly started to come back to me. A few of the passes sailed over his head, but hey, it’s easier to be on your back than over your hips. This went on with a few other players joining us and others leaving before we were passed caps and got ready to play. I originally thought that it was just a scrimmage between all these masters players (ages 27 - 50 or so), but it was actually against another club. Once I was asked in english what position I like to play, I said 2 and they all understood. Except their 2 is our 4. Instead of being at the Flag on the left side of the goal, I was on the right (or left-handed persons side). We had two defenses, Zero and Uno. Zero was normal press and Uno was M-drop, where the middle defender sloughs on set so that a pass can not enter. The way I learned it, the 2 flags gap at this point between the 3 top players and the 2 wings press out hard. However, in there version the wings slough as well. This created some sort of confusion and left a man open who shouldn’t have been (a couple of goals got scored on me this way, woops…). But apparently the miscommunication was not a Italy vs. US thing, but a coach vs. coach problem. Some people learned it the way I did, and others learned the other way. My play at the beginning was beyond my expectations and I ended up scoring 2 goals and had 2 assists in a matter of 10 minutes (we were playing 6 in 6 out every 15 minutes). After that, it was only down hill; the assists kept coming, along with a couple of drawn ejections, but soon the pool turned to molasses and my hands became nets. Each stroke was a struggle and got me no where near where I wanted to go. I kept pushing and tried to ignore the pain, but it only escalated until time was called at 10 past 11.
It was so nice to get back in the pool. I loved seeing that despite a formidable language barrier, I could communicate with all these players when a ball was in the pool. The language there was the same. I am grateful to Francesco, because without him giving up his Friday night, I wouldn’t not have been able to come. I also thank Fabio for letting me play with his team and try to get back in shape. I hope to go back at least a couple more times, but the problem is that they only play on fridays. It makes perfect sense for them, since they all work, but for me it is difficult. Not because I want to go out and get in bar fights, but because of traveling. To play, I have to give up a day or a weekend of traveling. This weekend there was a nice compromise, I’ll be training to Perugia and Assis tomorrow and Sunday, but I am booked through spring break. I hope to get back in April, but I’ll keep living day to day. I haven’t forgot about Florence, yes that trip did happen, but I just can’t seem to find the time to sit down and write about it. The only reason why I had time for this, was because I had been waiting for about 45 minutes to speak the ‘rents about Wednesday’s festivities…
Ciao for now.
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