Day -380 WorldCup2018
Miroslav Klose, Lukas Podolski, Carlos Valderrama. They all seemed to
be ageless and when they retired I thought they'd been playing forever
and must be close to 50. Roger Milla really was ageless. Really. Nobody
was quite sure how old he was. And then there was Francesco Totti.
He officially retired last weekend and I thought I should mark the
occasion. Totti is 40 and had been playing for Roma for 26 years. It
just didn't seem like forever, it was for the a huge part of my football
supporting life. I was 18, in a completely period of my life, when he
started with Roma.
He was unique in that he spent all his career
with one club. And even in these days of professional athletes being in
better physical shape, it is still amazing that he kept playing until
he was 40.
I came across a video today of his farewell at Roma's
final match of the season. It was so wonderfully Italian: lots of tight
hugs, and kisses on the cheeks from men in suits, anthems to Totti
played over the stadium speakers, and adulation from the Ultras and the
curva (Sud or Nord, don't know which is who's, Lazio or Roma). And the
tears, not just from Totti, but from the swooning young ladies as Totti
walked around with his wife and kids, and from the unashamed middle
aged, and elderly, men. It went on forever but I watched mostly in fast
forward.
My own personal Totti story is loosely related to, or
inspired by, him. Twice in Rome, for our honeymoon and on a later trip,
Kristine and I were always amused, and possibly bemused, by the signs of
adulation to the great Totti. Pictures of the pope, pictures of Totti.
Shrines for Our Lady, shrines for Totti. Political graffiti, Totti
graffitti. "Totti, Totti, TOTTI......!!" also became a bit of a joke
when ever i watched Italian football on TV. "He's still playing?" Yes,
for 26 years.
On our second trip to Rome we had planned to meet
my paresnts and go to the Stadio Olimpico to watch Lazio-Inter with my
Dad. My Mum thought a quiet night in a hotel with bad magazines was a
lot more exciting then a night with 60,000 football fans. For my Dad and
I it was a bit of a dream come true to be in a stadium that we had seen
on TV so many times. For Kristine it was a ...... experience. My job
was to buy tickets in advance. I asked at a ticket agency earlier in La
Spezia and had no luck. I tried again in Florence and I seemed to
remember i was told to wait until we were in Rome. i had one job. One
job! And I feared it would be a sell out and my parents would come to
Rome for nothing.
I don't remember the sequence of bars, shops
and events perfectly. But I did ask somewhere and was sent to a
newsagent, or shop, which was Lazio friendly. Apparently, the first
place was Roma territory. The people in the second place were very happy
that I had come to Rome to watch their beloved Lazio. My Italian was
obviously not good enough to convince them that I was Italian. Looking
back I am amazed, and proud of myself, that I had so many decent
conversations in Italian.
Did I tell you about the time I asked the
bartender in Naples for directions......I must have been paying more
attention in Italian class at school then I gave myself credit for.
The Lazio friendly newsagent/shop sent me to the official ticketing
agency where I safely and happily bought three tickets. I remember
toying with the idea of asking for a senior's ticket for my Dad, but
couldn't think of how to stretch my Italian far enough to ask for one
who somebody who didn't have any Italian ID as proof of his status as a
senior citizen. There was no fear of it being a sell out as I had lots
of seats to choose from. And I didn't choose to be in Ultras territory.
That's about it. The match was a comfortable 2-0 win for Lazio, who
were Champions at the time and just about to go on a good run at
defending their title after a slow first half of the season. The seats
were great, right around the halfway line, on the second tier. And apart
from the wonderful feeling of watching a football match in a stadium
like that, I remember the boy coming around selling Algida ice cream
cones and Hernan Crespo scoring.
So I never saw Totti. I don't
have a real Totti story. But I did experience why those passionate
Italian fans would cry for "one of their own." No more "Totti,
TOTTI......grande Totti."
