retired_bootcamp_nat

Saturday 6th May 2006

Rome, Italy

Well my new life as a semi-professional football scout is well underway, this evening I find myself in Rome before heading to somewhere in France before going up to Germany to find out where exactly Wolfsburg is. My new boss Signor Della Rosa had handed me a list of players that I would be looking at. Despite only having one scout it seems Della Rosa, or should I say Michele - as he insists I call him, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes me - has his finger on the pulse when it comes to footballing potential and talent. Anyway the simple fact is that I will spend the next couple of weeks in three countries looking at anyone that we can pick up on the cheap. Michele pulled me aside the other day after returning from Africa to explain the clubs financial situation. Quite simply, it is not good. It appears that we will not have much - if anything - to spend during the summer, so our primary targets will be those that either come from lower levels (of which there aren't really too many!) or those who's contracts are running out soon. Incidently Michele is impressed with my tapes of Baffoe and it looks like Asante Kotoko's fee will not be a problem.

So here we go, my latest two week holiday begun tonight with the viewing of twenty-two year old holding midfielder Christian Scarlato, running out with Roma's underage side he looks very solid. This season we have been combative in midfield according to Michele but Scarlato can add a touch of class. He has touch, he has a shot, he can tackle, and he doesn't mind spraying the ball around a bit, you can see that he's come through a very good underage system. Fortunately for us it appears - according to his agent - that he is not happy being outside the first team squad at Roma, now to be fair the boy is not Serie A material yet and anyone can see that. I will definately be suggesting that we table a contract and with any luck no club bigger than the mighty Legnano come in for him. Deep down I can't help but think that we are not the only club looking at Christian and if we get him we will be lucky.

Train to France tomorrow morning, where is Lens then? A couple of players have been tagged by Michele for this leg, twenty year old centre back Kamil Zayatte and his team-mate at Lens twenty-one year old striker Jimmy Kébé. I've only been to France once before and only really saw Paris and a bit of Nice and the south coast. I guess I'll find out where Lens is soon enough. I'll see if either of these boys can play as well.

retired_bootcamp_nat

Monday 8th May 2006

Lens, France

I regret not doing some research before this latest scouting adventure. I also regret Legnano's current financial state. Sure taking cheap train fares across Europe is romantic as a student, however I feel at this maturing stage of my life I deserve something a little more - umm, well - just a little more gracious than cattle class from Rome to Paris. After spending the best part of almost twenty-four hours on a couple of trains, encompassing a lovely evening at Paris' Gare du Nord train station. A culturally awakening experience if nothing else. I finally found myself in Lens, unfortunately it was the morning after I was due to watch Racing Club de Lens reserves turn out against an outfit from Lille. Turns out that Lens is in the far North of France, inland from Calais and not far south of the Belgian border. I must have been thinking of Lyon when I did those travel calculations.

So it was yesterday morning that I decided to pay a visit to Stade Félix Bollaert to see when the side was training. I decided that honesty was the best policy and when one of the trainers heard of my misfortune it was as if he'd never heard such an amusing mishap. I felt like slapping him as he went around the club yelling, "What day is it? Where is Lens? Why are they not playing this morning? I am stupid American! I am, I am..."

With that I just glared at the fun-loving Frenchie until he gained his senses and shut up. Finally he calmed down, eventually catching the coldness of my dagger-like gaze. The rest of the staff also lost their relaxed smiles.

"I am not an American. I've never been to America. I'll probably never go to America" I spat out, obviously my French is worse than I'd thought. I continued, "I'm a scout from Italy, near Milan actually, little place called Legnano?"

Not surprisingly none of the Lens staff in front of me had any idea where or who Legnano were, infact I'd be surprised if they had any idea what I was going on about what so ever. Thankfully this rather awkward situation - awkward from my point of view anyway - was over as quickly as it had begun with the staff vanishing to all corners of the club as the local chapel's bell tower chimed for ten o'clock. Now before you start just don't bother chastising me if there is no bell-tower in Lens. I didn't think to find out for sure, and to be honest I don't really care. But there was a bell like noise at ten, or it may have been a car horn? Or a train? Or maybe one of those wee bells on a bicycle? In any case it dispersed the club staff instantly.

As if right in cue a sleek black Renault slid gracefully to a halt in the club carpark, gaining my attention immediately I turned to view a big, powerful, athletic man slide out of the driver's seat and casually jog towards me as if he hadn't a care in the world. This was to be my first meeting with the precocious twenty-one year old French-born Malian striker Jimmy Kébé, I hoped it wouldn't be my last.

Well the grandeur of the initial meeting did not surprise me after what I'd heard of this Kébé character. A massive talent in France through his junior years Jimmy had not reached his true potential with Lens' first team - playing just a handful of matches and scoring a couple of times - and he had decided his future was not with Lens, Kébé was not signing a new contract. After speaking with Jimmy I soon discovered that he had little time for playing second fiddle to anyone, he was 'the man' and he wanted to be treated suitably by whichever club he ended up at. The main drawback I see currently is his wage bill. I know that he could replace the exciting Laurent Lanteri who returns to Monaco, but I wonder if the Legnano board would baulk at Jimmy's wage demands. We will see. In our favour is the fact that no big or even medium sized club will touch him due to his seemingly unjustified demands of being the number one striker. We can afford a risk since our strikeforce will be non-existent next season after we lose the twenty-goals of Lanteri back to France.

Incidentally after speaking and then seeing Kébé in action at the training ground, I also had a glance over his twenty year old team-mate, the central defender Kamil Zayatte. Kamil has game and is clearly good enough for us. I spoke to him briefly and he gave me his word that if the contract was tabled this June then he would be at Legnano for training on the first of July. Equally important to my ears were his final words before hitting the showers with a smile across his face.

"...you want Jimmy to sign as well just let me know, he's a bit out of left-field but I know how he ticks, Jimmy and I have played on the streets together since we were eight years old you know. He's a good kid!"

With that I was sold. Now I just had to convince Michele and the board.

retired_bootcamp_nat

Wednesday 10th May 2006

Wolfsburg, Germany

Next stop Germany, I couldn't help but wonder just how long I could do this gig. Every day a new city, every night a different bed. I'm just not sure that I'm cut out for it. I'd decided to make the most of all this spare time, with a few hours on my hands I read a bit of German history whilst on the train to Wolfsburg. Turns out that the town itself was only built to house the workers in the Volkswagen factory in 1938. We all know what else was happening around 1938 don't we! Yeah that's right, the town of Wolfsburg (now a city with over 100,000 occupants) was originally built by the Nazi's. Yes - those Nazi's. We'd better keep an eye on this Ebeling fellow if we do sign him then.

The train again. Through to Metz, then Saarbrucken, Frankfurt and Kassel before smoothly coming to halt at the Bahnhof Wolfsburg platform, welcome to Lower Saxony. Despite my initial protestations I was becoming more comfortable on the trains of Europe. Then again maybe my current feelings merely reflect the state of the German rail system when compared with that of Italy and France. The hospitality was amazing and despite my terrible German I even found myself receiving precisely what I had ordered at the bar. What a bizarre notion - don't tell the French about it! Admittedly I had again succumbed to those nasty Kronenburg’s well before midday - just as I'd done eight years earlier in a very similar situation involving a bar and a very fast train in this familiar part of the world.

Once in Wolfsburg I settled on a particularly dodgy looking taxi, after the serene train trip I'd just experienced I was feeling a little adventurous you know. Unfortunately the cabby I chose decided that he’d like to converse with me, “You a nice looking man, yar – you here on business?” His thick Turkish accent was bizarrely mashed with broken English and some less broken but equally poor German.

What had my travel-case and sports suit given it away – I wondered sarcastically, “Yes, business of sorts.” I replied eventually as he threw my case into the taxi.

“You want the red-light then yar?!”

Was he asking me or telling me? The red-light? Err, no I hadn’t come to Wolfsburg to pick up some unidentifiable sexually transmitted disease - as much fun as that sounds - I have work to do, “No thankyou. Please take me to the cheapest hotel near the Volkswagen Arena.”

Finally after great consternation and a typically heated discussion with a couple of fellow Turk cabbies he agreed to take me as requested seemingly even to the place I’d requested. This was going well! I soon found out why the driver seemed so annoyed. The drive turned out to be little more than five minutes from the train station. Upon pulling into the Tryp Wolfsburg Hotel I was confidently informed that the stadium was just a few hundred metres away.

As is so often the case with many stadiums in Germany, the Volkswagen Arena is set away from the built up area of the city. Sitting amongst the fields of Saxony the stadium sure is imposing with its post-post-modern facade of steel framework and glass panelling. I won't show Lars any pictures of the Giovanni Mari in Legnano just yet! Opting not to get a cab the short distance to the stadium, not due to the desire for exercise but rather prefering not to have to justify my actions to another taxi driver. You can tell by the desires of the cabbies that Wolfsburg is a business city. This is definitely a business city, and quite the greasy, slippery, sick type of business if you get my drift.

So yes, here I was at a football club based in a strange feeling city built by Hitler for his lovely cars. Lars Ebeling is the man I'm here for, who at just twenty-one has age on his side and is apparently more than happy to move over to Italy and try out with us, his ambitions with Vfl Wolfsburg have come to a premature end after not breaking through from the youth ranks over the past couple of years.

Following a meaningless afternoon of pottering around the hotel room finally I would be seeing German left back Lars Ebeling in action. Or so I'd thought. The players rolled out in the white and green training kits of Vfl Wolfsburg but of Ebeling there was no sign, I scanned the playing group - no, and that's when I saw him - sidelined by injury. I forced myself to sit through the session just in case someone else captured my attention, I soon realised that I was wasting my time. We just couldn't afford these guys. I had to find Ebeling and see what's wrong with him.

I found the ear of one of the trainers and soon was introducing myself to young Lars Ebeling, "Cris Piccolino, yeah I was sent here to scout you for AC Legnano in Italy."

Ebeling's face told the story, he looked shattered. Shattered that someone had come all the way from Italy just to look at him. I wasn't about to tell him that he wasn't the only reason I was around, you know, I wanted him to feel like he'd let me down, I wanted him to want to impress me, "So how long will you be in Wolfsburg Mr Piccolino?"

The sincerity of his voice was there for all to hear. I had to break the good news to him, "I'll be here for as long as it takes to see you on the park Ebeling." I wasn't about to go back to Legnano without a proper scouting report on this guy.

Ebeling's relieved smile told the story. Without seeing the kid play I already think he'll be good for us, from what I've seen so far this guy has the most important attribute for a potential Legnano recruit - he wants to play for us. I get the feeling he just wants to play somewhere, anywhere.

We parted on good terms and he took my card, I would be informed the minute he was ready to get back on the pitch. According to the trainers he shouldn't be out for more than a couple of days, he'd just taken a bit of a knock to his knee and the bruising will settle to have him training early this week. Walking back along Willy Brandt Platz towards my hotel I pondered life - just briefly - I was thinking that this scouts life wouldn't be too bad if I had someone with me. A companion would be nice?

I hadn't spoken to Mariana for a couple of weeks, last I heard she was still working with her dad. I wonder how Castellano's going? Not as much as I wonder how his daughter's going though. Only a few more days, then I'm back in Italy.

retired_bootcamp_nat

Monday 15th May 2006

Wolfsburg, Germany

All this time on my hands and I'm feeling destructive again. I'd spent a good part of the last four days texting back and forth with Mariana in Sorrento - getting nowhere - last night I finally called her. We spoke for hours - the first time in over two weeks that I'd heard her voice - she sounded well. Deep down I'd hoped that she wasn't so well. I wanted her to feel that she wanted me, like I wanted her. I can't help but feel that this is not the case. Enough about me though.

On to the job at hand. Ebeling's relief was obvious, his leg was fine and on approval from the Wolfsburg club doctor I had finally been able to watch him train this morning. How can I describe him in footballing terms? Lars is unspectacular, he is hard-working and diligent - much like Legnano really, the town and the football club for that matter. A player that is not afraid to get a bit of blood on his hands, I respect that, and whilst he is my type of player I'm not sure that his toughness does enough to counter his lack of natural ability. The only word I gave him as we parted ways that we'll have to see how it pans out. There were to be no guarantees this time and deep down I felt that this week had been wasted, I doubt I'll ever see Lars Ebeling again.

Just as I was becoming comfortable in the Tryp Wolfsburg hotel it was time to leave again. As I packed for the train back to Italy once more my mind ventured to thoughts of Mariana, this gamely passion was fast becoming an obsession. Seemingly an unhealthy obsession at that. Thankfully a simple, unadventurous taxi ride back to central Wolfsburg ensued and before long I was boarding the next train headed South for Milan via Switzerland.

[i]"Hey Mario, what's the news eh?"[/]i Bored and inquisitive I had called my former Sorrento colleague.

"..."

"Really? That's great then, so the season has some legs in it still even as we speak."

"..."

"Yeah well, look I should be back in town by Wednesday evening. We'll sort out the rest of the business then, pass on my congratulations to Signor Della Rosa and let him know that the trip has been a success. I'll be back before you know it"

"..."

"Thanks Mario, I will. See you soon mate." With that I curled up with a good book and let myself dream of life as I'd have it were it my choice.

To fill you in Mario had some interesting on-field news from Legnano. Wins over Bassano Virtus (2-0) and Jesolo (2-1) in the closing matches of the season had ensured that the playoffs were our destiny. As the regular season closed we had finished second, a clear six points behind Serie C2/A league champions Bassano. To go with this Serie C Cup semi final win over Monza means that we will have a frantic end to the season. The Serie C Cup final will be played over a couple of legs against Lucchese later this month. In the all important Playoff semi-final we are pitted against fifth placed Pro Vercelli.

It would be a busy close of season.