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You don't get let off that easily Ninjafish :p Thanks for the support guys, hope you enjoy the game...
Sunday 15th May 2005
Sunday morning finally arrived and we were on the coach making the short drive across to Acireale on the east coast of the island. This is it, our cup final. It isn't quite win-or-bust, as whichever team is disappointed today would still have a second chance at promotion in the playoffs, but I knew Varese would be coveting that automatic promotion spot as much as we were. 9 months of toil and conquest, and a couple of months of hope, is too much to risk on the lottery of the playoffs now.
We undoubtedly had the trickier task ahead of us. Acireale in 7th position have won 1, drawn 2 and lost 2 of their last 6 matches, including a draw with our challengers for the title. We have also only beaten them once in my almost-three years at the club. Varese meanwhile are staying up in north Italy to visit Legnano, the team down in 17th place who have lost 5 of their last 6. Our away record over the season is slightly better than Varese's, but on paper you could say they have the easier fixture.
The beacon of light for us is our goal difference, an advantage of some 20 goals that Varese simply won't be able to overcome, so we know that as long as we match whatever they achieve in Legnano, we will win the division. I can think of much more reassuring positions to be in, but I suppose I'd rather have that than not have it. The fact remains that really we are going to have to come and win.
I impart my final instructions to the nervous players as kick-off approaches. I want Gaspare to hold deep and make sure the middle of the pitch isn't left uncontested, and for the fullbacks to stay defensive and keep the back line solid. The worst thing that could happen would be to concede an early goal. Captain Simone Tamburro stalked around the visitor's changing room dispersing encouragement and then led the eleven out onto the pitch.
The Tupparello is bouncing; Acireale have some of the most passionate fans in Serie C2, especially for a Sicily derby. Pink and orange flares billow gaudy smoke around the edges of the running track encircling the pitch, and the biancazzura away fans are giving their best behind the goal.
Acireale make all the early pressure, forcing Nicolas Cinalli into making a couple of saves. I don't know if it is nerves or the competence of the home side, perhaps both, but we struggle to get any sort of rhythm going at all in the first period. In fact, we aren't even able to manage a single shot on goal in 45 minutes and we haven't looked like changing the 0-0 scoreline.
The news from Legnano at half-time is that Varese are also being held 0-0, so as things stand, with 45 minutes of the regular season to go, we still have our slender grasp on the title. I try to get some motivation into the players during the break, urging Franco Chiavarini and Vladimiro Caramel to start getting involved on the ball down the wings, and reminding Gaspare Pellegrino and Marco Cirillo to keep it tight in the middle.
Minutes after the restart, coach Leo Pellegrino gives me a tap on the shoulder as I shift nervously in the technical area. It was a phonecall from Massimo Fiorillo, our scout in Legnano, with news that Varese have started the second half with a bang; Stefano Brognoli has repeated his heroics of last week with a goal right from the off, and Varese lead 1-0 at Legnano. "Ciò non è buona", understates Leo. Varese have one hand on the trophy, it is being lifted out of our reach...
06-25-2003, 04:49 PM
Ragusa to riches (the toe-end of the boot) Post #232
I flag Vladi down as he passes the dugout, and the news is quickly distributed amongst the team. It's a sharp shock to the system, and shouts of determined encouragement start emanating from Tamburro, Sabellini and Cirillo.
In the 57th minute, a ball up the pitch by Simone Tamburro is nodded down by Daniel Fonseca, looking for Eddy Baggio. Baggio tussles with Acireale's Lo Monaco, a fight that his strength wins, and our entire dugout is up off the bench as the striker forces his way into the right side of the penalty area. Somehow he manages to dig out a cross despite the attentions of the defender, sending the ball skipping back across the penalty spot, and suddenly Daniel Fonseca is arriving, centrally, 15 yards out. The elegant shape is perfection, the stance natural, the left foot swinging smoothly around... an immaculate, glorious volley, and the ball crashes into the back of the net! Acireale keeper Nicola Pavarini is sprawling, Daniel Fonseca is wheeling towards Eddy Baggio in celebration, and all our subs and staff are leaping along the touchline like crazy people.
When the officials have restored order to our wayward substitutes and the game is preparing to resume, it sinks in that we are 1-0 up and back on top of the table via goal difference. All we need to do is keep it tight and keep things as they are, and nothing that happens up in northern Italy will matter.
In the 72nd minute I send Alessandro Bonaffini on to replace Marco Cirillo, who has been struggling to show his usual form, to get some fresh legs in midfield. The game is being reduced to a midfield battle, with little in terms of attacking or goalmouth action, but that suits us down to the ground. When the long, long minutes finally tick round past the number 80, I withdraw Caramel and send on experienced defender Dario Italia, mainly due to Vladi's tiring legs, but also to sit Dario in the holding role in midfield and just try and shut up shop with an impenetrable barrier of him and Pellegrino in front of the defence. Bonaffini takes over on the left for the last ten minutes.
With three minutes remaining of the ninety, Acireale number 8, Bevo, picks the ball up deep in midfield and chips it into the feet of Mastrolilli, at the corner of our penalty area. The target man holds it up and lays it back to Bevo following up, who throws a dummy and deftly slips a pass sideways into the path of Cardinale, centralised, little over 25 yards from goal. I hold my breath as the Acireale player alters his approach on the rolling ball, preparing to plant his left foot. Gaspare Pellegrino, scrambling, lunging desperately to block, will not get there in time.
The connection of the right boot with its target was a loud thump. The sound of the ball scraping harshly, down the back of the net, reverberated down my spine.
06-26-2003, 06:44 PM
Ragusa to riches (the toe-end of the boot) Post #235
I sank to my knees on the touchline, eyes dropping to the turf in front of me as Acireale players and fans celebrated in my peripheral vision. That was it. The playoffs beckoned. We had come so close.
Straightening up and turning towards Antonio, the words "Three bloody minutes" about to escape despairingly from my mouth, I noticed that the mood of the group of Acireale players had changed. The noise of the crowd started to lessen, when they had been mid-roar. I hesitated and looked up along the sideline. Never before had the sight of a linesman's flag, thrust stiffly out to angle across the pitch, seemed so beautiful.
The world snaps back into focus. The Acireale players don't share my opinion, but surrounding the referee does them no good and the official stands by his assistant's decision. Apparently Acireale's Marino had been in an offside position in the goal mouth, obstructing Nicolas Cinalli's line of sight as the goalkeeper watched Cardinale's piledriver fly unstoppably into the top corner. Them's the breaks, as they say. As far as we are concerned we have had one almighty let off, and we are back in the position of defending our lead to win the title.
With me hopping and kicking every ball from in front of the dugout, we get our backs firmly to the wall and plenty of players behind the ball. After an unbelievably tense couple of minutes, the tension bar is raised when the sign showing 3 minutes of added on time is held up. Each Acireale attack is rebuked with desperate blocks and hacked clearances as we inch ever closer... In the 93rd minute, Sabellini's hoofed clearance is chased down by Daniel Fonseca, and his dangerously whipped cross into the box is headed over the bar by Eddy Baggio, but it doesn't matter! The referee blows the final whistle before the goal kick can be taken, and we've done it!
I woke in the afternoon, feeling groggy but elated. We had indeed done it. What we'd done after the final whistle I could not hope to document accurately, it had been such a blur of celebration. I remember being swamped by Antonio Ranucci and Giuseppe Lenea on the sideline as we rushed from the dugout, and I remember Nicolas Cinalli and Alessandro Bonaffini running straight off to the band of Ragusa fans in the away end, where Nicolas threw his gloves. I remember chairman Giuseppe Antoci arriving in our rapturous changing room with a bottle of champagne, not the last one he opened that evening, and vaguely the short but happy coach journey back south. After that there was a spontaneous gathering at the chairman's villa for all associated with the club, and then I remember crashing out on Monday afternoon when my body reminded me that I had hardly slept since Saturday morning.
Tomorrow we will be receiving the Serie C2/C trophy and doing a quick parade through the streets of the town. It is sometimes difficult to remember that this is 'merely' the Serie C2/C title, but for a club as small as this one it really is a big deal. Not to mention the dramatic way that we obtained it, and how unexpected it was. From the window of my apartment today I can look out and see a few blue and white scarves, flags and rosettes hanging around shop fronts and out of other people's windows, a big difference from the relative lack of enthusiasm that I noted on my arrival almost 3 years ago.
06-27-2003, 10:57 AM
Ragusa to riches (the toe-end of the boot) Post #239
Keep it coming!
(again & louder!)
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