Die Zeit is one of Germany's quality weekly. A very interesting category of that newspaper is "I have a dream" wherein famous people talk about their dreams/wishes. While ransacking Die Zeit homepage I found an edition (May 2003) dealing with Alessandro Del Piero.
Hopeless
I have a dream
Alessandro del Piero, 28, is said to be one of the most versatile football players to be born in Italy. Together with his club, Juventus Turin, "Ale" won everything which can be achieved on club level, among four Italian championships, the Champions League trophy (1996) and the Intercontinental Cup (1996). Presently Del Piero and Juventus are in the semi-final of the Champions League. The striker is the best payed player in the Italian league. He earns a 5 milion Euro net salary and in addition the same amount with endorsement and advertising revenues. Here he is dreaming about luck that nobody can buy for money. He would like winding back the time in order to speak one more time with his died father.
As child I dreamt of to be a trucker. I was tempted by the idea to be on the move. I grew up in a small village in Northern Italy. My mother was a housewife, my father an electrician. Money for travelling abroad? We did not have. The first bigger excursion I did was a tour to an inter-local away game. I was eight or nine years old and played at San Vendemiano, the team of my home town. We had won the championship and were allowed to match with a team from beyond our region. My father came along with me. It was a great adventure: finally away from home, whether only some kilometers. A new world seems to bare its heart.
Also my brother Stefano played soccer these days, actually quite good. He made it to the youth team of Sampdoria Genua. The club was one of the big players of the Italian league, Serie A. Whenever possible our father picked us up for the games; with a Fiat 127 he carted us across Nothern Italy. Still today I have got the smell of imitation leather seats in my nose. Somewhere along the way my brother decided not to become a professional player. He decided for an apprenticeship. Today I look up to him for that. I do not know how many boys at his age and outfitted with his talent would have take this decision. I would not have done it. Just for me it was clear that as alternative to be a trucker could only be a career as football player - a travelling player of course.
If I could wind back the wheel of time I would give appreciation to things which were banal and self-evident to me before. For example shared moments with my father. He passed by in the last year. I remember how he always stood beside the pitch and smoked one by one cigarette, without saying a word. He was not one of them who stand behind the goal and scream at their sons how to play soccer. He never talked with us about our prosperities, even when Stefano went to Sampdoria Genua and also not when I signed my first contract at Juventus Turin. He did not want that success outgrowed. That would have been the worst for him: to have a blatherskite as son. But I felt that he was proud of us when he lighted a cigarette.
With hindsight I wish that I would have enjoyed these moments more intesive. Yes, that is my dream: to tell it my father. Too late. After death the banal becomes suddenly important. And inverse. The death of my father reduced all my problems to nil, no matter how great they were, private ones comparably as these in the club. Two days after the funeral I scored for Juventus after months of dissapointment. Somehow absurd, but the death of my father freed me abruptly. It seems, that my father took out all my problems into the grave. Today I think: Even with his passing by he did for a last time what he did during his whole life, to give me his hand and help in difficult moments.
Today - lots of injuries and the loss of my father may be the reasons - that I try to enjoy life. I bought a flat. I went on vacation in the Caribbean. That sounds ordinary but I used to stockpile my money, conservatively invested. And also my relationship to other people changed. I am more upfront than I used to be.
The Avvocato Gianni Agnelli, our father at Juventus, was in the habit of calling me at seven o'clock with the aim to ask how I feel. He always asked: "Del Piero, did I awake you?" Of course he did at this time. But I always answered: "No, Avvocato, I was just in the bath". Some day I answered: "Yes, you awoke me." How reacted Agnelli? From now on he phoned me at eight o'clock.
Lately I was asked what I think about the political situation in northeast of Italy, at last it is my home region. It is known in whole Europe that Umberto Bossi who is a stirrer owns a huge potential for elections. He speaks of "Celtic race" - and annouces me as examplar! That is bollocks. Bossi's policy is pure demagogy. If he would be on the top I would nor have a foreign manager neither teammates from abroad and above all: no friends. Generally Italy would be without foreigners. The problem is that Bossi is taken seriously, also by the media. In the northeastern parts of Italy, in Veneto, fortunately not all think in that ways he does. It is time that the public gets to know that fact. There is an open-minded and modern Veneto, despite of Bossi.
Even my adjugdement of Bossi sounds different: I am always described as silent, closed and reserved. And often there is something negative in these adjugdements. But I can not answer every, even banal, question with enthusiasm. That has nothing to do with arrogance or desinterest but that I take questions seriously. Would I always acclaim everything the to be acclaimed would be lose value. For example: Turin, my adopted home, suits me for that reason. There is not everytime an occasion celebrating. In winter it is often nebulous and cloudy, for weeks the sun is away. Without pointing on a clichee but Turin mirrors the life. Even the fog makes the sun more worthwhile when it raises again.
Though I am happy in Turin I like to reminisc about my childhood in Veneto. After training, I often lie down on the fresh mowed grass for minutes. I relish this smell. Fresh mowed grass - that was the best thing as child. It meant freedom, luck. When I lie down nowadays I feel the same. Evoked memories: Together with a schoolmate I tried in my father's garage to switch off the light with the ball. One well-aimed shot and the light switched off. If a bulb was destroyed during these actions my father was there and repaired it, giving my mother no chance to notic it.
Today I am looking for the light switch in the adverse goal. I hope that I will find it again in the Champions League and score. Best in the final. Shot, click, and the dreaming begins.
+++
recorded by Walter de Gregorio
translated by kurvengeflüster
Hopeless
I have a dream
Alessandro del Piero, 28, is said to be one of the most versatile football players to be born in Italy. Together with his club, Juventus Turin, "Ale" won everything which can be achieved on club level, among four Italian championships, the Champions League trophy (1996) and the Intercontinental Cup (1996). Presently Del Piero and Juventus are in the semi-final of the Champions League. The striker is the best payed player in the Italian league. He earns a 5 milion Euro net salary and in addition the same amount with endorsement and advertising revenues. Here he is dreaming about luck that nobody can buy for money. He would like winding back the time in order to speak one more time with his died father.
As child I dreamt of to be a trucker. I was tempted by the idea to be on the move. I grew up in a small village in Northern Italy. My mother was a housewife, my father an electrician. Money for travelling abroad? We did not have. The first bigger excursion I did was a tour to an inter-local away game. I was eight or nine years old and played at San Vendemiano, the team of my home town. We had won the championship and were allowed to match with a team from beyond our region. My father came along with me. It was a great adventure: finally away from home, whether only some kilometers. A new world seems to bare its heart.
Also my brother Stefano played soccer these days, actually quite good. He made it to the youth team of Sampdoria Genua. The club was one of the big players of the Italian league, Serie A. Whenever possible our father picked us up for the games; with a Fiat 127 he carted us across Nothern Italy. Still today I have got the smell of imitation leather seats in my nose. Somewhere along the way my brother decided not to become a professional player. He decided for an apprenticeship. Today I look up to him for that. I do not know how many boys at his age and outfitted with his talent would have take this decision. I would not have done it. Just for me it was clear that as alternative to be a trucker could only be a career as football player - a travelling player of course.
If I could wind back the wheel of time I would give appreciation to things which were banal and self-evident to me before. For example shared moments with my father. He passed by in the last year. I remember how he always stood beside the pitch and smoked one by one cigarette, without saying a word. He was not one of them who stand behind the goal and scream at their sons how to play soccer. He never talked with us about our prosperities, even when Stefano went to Sampdoria Genua and also not when I signed my first contract at Juventus Turin. He did not want that success outgrowed. That would have been the worst for him: to have a blatherskite as son. But I felt that he was proud of us when he lighted a cigarette.
With hindsight I wish that I would have enjoyed these moments more intesive. Yes, that is my dream: to tell it my father. Too late. After death the banal becomes suddenly important. And inverse. The death of my father reduced all my problems to nil, no matter how great they were, private ones comparably as these in the club. Two days after the funeral I scored for Juventus after months of dissapointment. Somehow absurd, but the death of my father freed me abruptly. It seems, that my father took out all my problems into the grave. Today I think: Even with his passing by he did for a last time what he did during his whole life, to give me his hand and help in difficult moments.
Today - lots of injuries and the loss of my father may be the reasons - that I try to enjoy life. I bought a flat. I went on vacation in the Caribbean. That sounds ordinary but I used to stockpile my money, conservatively invested. And also my relationship to other people changed. I am more upfront than I used to be.
The Avvocato Gianni Agnelli, our father at Juventus, was in the habit of calling me at seven o'clock with the aim to ask how I feel. He always asked: "Del Piero, did I awake you?" Of course he did at this time. But I always answered: "No, Avvocato, I was just in the bath". Some day I answered: "Yes, you awoke me." How reacted Agnelli? From now on he phoned me at eight o'clock.
Lately I was asked what I think about the political situation in northeast of Italy, at last it is my home region. It is known in whole Europe that Umberto Bossi who is a stirrer owns a huge potential for elections. He speaks of "Celtic race" - and annouces me as examplar! That is bollocks. Bossi's policy is pure demagogy. If he would be on the top I would nor have a foreign manager neither teammates from abroad and above all: no friends. Generally Italy would be without foreigners. The problem is that Bossi is taken seriously, also by the media. In the northeastern parts of Italy, in Veneto, fortunately not all think in that ways he does. It is time that the public gets to know that fact. There is an open-minded and modern Veneto, despite of Bossi.
Even my adjugdement of Bossi sounds different: I am always described as silent, closed and reserved. And often there is something negative in these adjugdements. But I can not answer every, even banal, question with enthusiasm. That has nothing to do with arrogance or desinterest but that I take questions seriously. Would I always acclaim everything the to be acclaimed would be lose value. For example: Turin, my adopted home, suits me for that reason. There is not everytime an occasion celebrating. In winter it is often nebulous and cloudy, for weeks the sun is away. Without pointing on a clichee but Turin mirrors the life. Even the fog makes the sun more worthwhile when it raises again.
Though I am happy in Turin I like to reminisc about my childhood in Veneto. After training, I often lie down on the fresh mowed grass for minutes. I relish this smell. Fresh mowed grass - that was the best thing as child. It meant freedom, luck. When I lie down nowadays I feel the same. Evoked memories: Together with a schoolmate I tried in my father's garage to switch off the light with the ball. One well-aimed shot and the light switched off. If a bulb was destroyed during these actions my father was there and repaired it, giving my mother no chance to notic it.
Today I am looking for the light switch in the adverse goal. I hope that I will find it again in the Champions League and score. Best in the final. Shot, click, and the dreaming begins.
+++
recorded by Walter de Gregorio
translated by kurvengeflüster
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