都灵中文论坛ToroChina都灵足球队爱好者

 找回密码
 加入我们register!
搜索
查看: 5431|回复: 13

[文献] 爱到极致,病不可医

[复制链接]
发表于 2006-12-31 16:24 | 显示全部楼层 |阅读模式
源自Goal.com

2005年3月22日 10:53:00


      在足球运动中,没有比真正的球迷与他或她的球队间更强烈的忠诚感了。由于每个赛季可供争夺的荣誉相较于数量庞大的球会并不多,所以,自然而然的,球迷们就在失望与守望间徘徊,只有其中的幸运者才能享受荣光带来的狂喜。幸而,对于本队进球得分的纯粹体验(这可不仅仅是看看而已)已经足以维系和滋壮我们“盲然”的信念,一周一周,一年一年。这是我们生命的语句,它承续了我们的生活。为了赞美这样的激情,Goal.com正在组织一批系列文章,让球迷们讲述究竟是什么,让他们为之着魔,魂牵梦绕。特里.奎利科的随笔将告诉我们,怎样在数千英里之外成为一个虔诚的都灵支持者.......



爱到极致,病不可医



      一旦染上,这病就经年不散,最严重的症状将自九月起展现,直到六月,愈发严重。一周一循环,变化不多,除了那些完全相反的显著症状:第一天晚上,病人无法入眠,思绪从一个极端奔向另一个极端:从绝望到喜悦。第一天,内心只关注一件事,呼吸变得微弱,情感空前高涨,90分钟后完全沉静。第二天,占据内心的或是无助与失望,或是莫名的狂喜。第三天,有了对第一天事件的发烧检查,不过,逻辑并未参与。第四天,上帝在此事件中的角色被考究。可以预见这世上是否有公平与正义。第五天,理智归来,细细检讨第一天究竟发生了什么,还有,两天后会不会发生同样的事情?(其激烈程度只有爱因斯坦检讨他的相对论才堪比得上。)第六天,紧张不安,一个难眠之夜再度隐现......


      这“病”(读到这篇文章的人都很清楚)就是对足球的狂热,或者,在这里,更恰当的是,意大利足球,再确切些,是为意大利的都灵队而狂,因为这支球队是我迷恋的真正中心;无可理性解释的迷恋。对于家乡球队的爱是能够理解的,但是,对于一支数千英里之外的球队,对于来自另外一个国家的球队,这样的爱是不易领悟的。


      有这样一些联系,尽管是如此的细微:我的祖父自皮埃蒙特移民, 从都灵城外30公里的一个小村庄,所以,他们可能是都灵队的球迷......嗯,不,他们在1899年左右自意大利移民,而都灵足球俱乐部在1906年之前还不存在。


     “Granata”或者说Toro(译注:这两个词在意大利语中分别是绛红色和公牛的意思,都是都灵队的昵称)的基础支持来自于都灵地区的工人阶级,确切地说,许多支持者出于菲亚特的工人。但是,为什么不换作支持那支黑白色的球队呢?如果,在这里应用逻辑,我会很容易地选择支持“斑马” 。生活里的大多数时间都将充满阳光与成功,不济的时候也能有价值数百万欧元的转会。


      或许,我是首先被那支传说中球队的历史所吸引的。 “Il Grande Torino”(译注:伟大都灵),如二战后他们所名,几乎不可战胜,曾有10名队员同时入选意大利国家队,连续赢得3届意大利联赛冠军(译注:应为连续4届),而就在他们迈向四连冠的时候,1949年5月4日,他们乘坐的菲亚特飞机,在都灵市郊,撞上了苏佩加山,机上无一生还。


      球队可以说是再也没能从悲剧中恢复,在其后的年月中,只不过是在1976-1976赛季获得了一次甲级联赛冠军。 (另外一个个人关联:1975年我的儿子出生。)

都灵队在甲乙两级联赛间摇摆。马基雅维利和但丁无法想象会有这样的压力与苦难落在了球队、球员和球迷之上。你不知道会落向地狱的哪一层,危机时时浮现。

      目前,都灵队与其他21支球队一同处在意大利乙级联赛——都在为挤入前三名获得升级而苦战,都在努力避免降入丙级联赛。


      2002年春天,我说服了我的妻子达莲娜,我们应该到意大利去度假——“我们能去访问梵蒂冈,看看佛罗伦萨的珍藏。而我也能有机会去趟我先祖父、先祖母在阿尔卑斯山长大的小村庄!”


      这些理由听上去都很不错,只不过,都是假的。如同其他所有的朝圣者,我知道,我要去阿尔卑球场致敬,到Curva Maratona(译注:都灵队最狂热最忠实球迷所在看台的传统称呼)膜拜。而这,就是一次两周的旅行,为的是一场90分钟的足球比赛。


      旅行全程,我都得用我蹩脚的意大利语向我遇见的所有人解释,这是我第一次来访问我先祖的故土,而且我还是一个都灵队的追随者。(第一反应都是强烈的认可,而第二反应总会是忧愁的摇头。)


      比赛日,我们在用过一顿丰盛午餐后离开了朱利宾馆——达莲娜质问我“为什么你没告诉我carpaccio(译注:意大利名菜,生牛肉色泽鲜红而配白汁)是生的?”。我们的侍者希望我们能帮他的儿子买件国际米兰的球衣回来,而两位身为TORO支持者的前台则提醒我们,由于今天城区有马拉松比赛,所以开往球场的电车不会在通常的位置停靠。


      很快,我们就迷路了,绝望无助,但一位如法国人所说“不算年轻的”的妇女,发现了我戴的球队围巾,便拉着我们一起,一起沿着巴洛克风格的林荫大道赶路。一到商店,我们就加入了许许多多球迷们的行列。很快,我们的新朋友就招呼了所有人来见见这些美国人,再谈谈听他们对于芝加哥的印象(迈克尔·乔丹和霸王卡邦在都灵人当中知名度相当高)。


      电车久等不来,使得人们纷纷拿出手机召唤交警。交警很快就出现了,却表示即便是他们也不知道我们的电车跑哪去了。人们再度掏出电话,这次召唤的是真正的警察——他们开着警灯在大街上四处搜寻我们遗失的电车。随着开球时间的临近,我们愈发焦急不安——有人恳求我,“别告诉布什我们的交通系统这么糟糕!”


      终于,电车在众多苦等乘客的怨声中到来。起先,司机因为害怕自己被乘客伤害而没有开门,但冷静的头脑获得了胜利,司机道歉并开了门。我们终于上路了。

迟到的我们,每个人都朝着大门飞奔,期望能赶上开球。


      但我们却得靠边站着,等全副防暴装备的宪兵队开进球场,而我的妻子显然已经忍了很久,她的眼睛说着“你把我们带到了什么地方。”


      比赛前,我下定决心要买到最好的座位, 但是,由于计划时的无知,不懂得每个大门只对它自己那片区域开放,在隔区间辗转过后,我们发现,我们来到了最便宜的位置——Curva Maratona看台的第一层......在我们上面的是——“Brigata Rosso”(译注:红色旅)——都灵队的极端球迷。他们高唱,打鼓,吹喇叭,摇动旗帜标语,燃烧焰火——这可忙坏了消防队员们——因为他们高高兴兴扔下的焰火落在了第一层看台上——倒霉的我们就在那。


      有这么句名言——“soccer is not a matter of life and death. It is more important than that。”(“足球不是生与死的问题,它比生死更重要。”)在接下来的两个小时里,我知道,体育场里的所有人都感受到了这句话的意味。所有人类已知的激情都呈现了出来。这是一出盛大的歌剧,战争与和平,爱与恨,不停地展现,直至终场哨声响起,最终,这是场1:1的平局,让我们多少有些遗憾。(一场胜利能让我们更接近明年的顶级联赛。)

      
      当我们一路穿越城市返回旅馆,都灵人看到我的围巾,就会来向我打听比分,得知结果,或者多少有些安慰,或者感到伤心。

      几天后,在米兰我们所居的旅馆,在我们意大利之旅的最后一夜,在为Duomo教堂(译注:米兰主教教堂,世界上最华丽的教堂之一)的美景着迷之后,达莲娜向我问起了越位规则——许多年后,她站在边线观看我的比赛,还有我们的儿子德里克在小学和高中时的比赛——她想要了解这种规则。所以,在我们的鸡尾酒台上,我摆开了桔子和苹果。当她重新摆放这些水果的时候说,“好的,现在,让我们说,这些红苹果就是都灵队,而这些桔子就是莱切队,这就是下半场末段的场面”,这时候我明白了,对于足球的热爱显然是会传染的。




特里.奎利科
 楼主| 发表于 2006-12-31 17:01 | 显示全部楼层
原文

From Goal.com

A Love Supreme: The Incurable Disease

22/03/2005 10:53:00

There is no stronger bond of loyalty in football than that between the true fan and his or her team. And with relatively few honours up for grabs each season and a large number of clubs competing for them, the natural condition of the football fan lies somewhere between regular disappointment and perennial hope, with (for the lucky ones) the occasional ecstasy of glory.
Fortunately, the sheer elation of experiencing (it’s so much more than just seeing) our side score a goal is enough to sustain and nourish our blind faith week after week, season after season. It’s both a life sentence and something that provides context for our lives. And to celebrate this passion, Goal.com is launching a new series in which fans give a flavour of what drives their obsession. Terry Quilico gets things underway with his essay on what it’s like to be a devoted Torino fan from thousands of miles away….


THE INCURABLE DISEASE

Although once infected, the illness is year-round, the worst symptoms exhibit themselves from September through June, growing stronger as the months go by. A weekly cycle varies little, except that the manifested symptoms will often be complete opposites: On the night of the first day, the patient doesn’t sleep, thoughts racing from one extreme to another; from despair to joy. On the first day, the mind is focused on one thing only, breathing becomes shallow, emotions are at an all-time high, and for 90 minutes the mind shuts down completely. On the second day, abject despair takes over, or less likely, an unexplained ecstasy. On the third, a feverish examination of the events of the first day takes place; however, logic is not present in the process. On the fourth, the role of the almighty in events is scrutinized. The fairness and justice present or absent from the world is contemplated. The fifth day witnesses the return of the intellect, with a detailed examination of what took place on day one, and why it will or won’t take place again in two days time. (With an intensity that can only be compared to Einstein formulating his theory of relativity.) On the sixth day, tensions rise until once again a sleepless night looms…
The disease (which is well known to everyone reading this) is “soccer fever”, or more appropriately in this case, “calcio fever”, or in this particular iteration, “Torino Calcio fever”, as that team is the true focus of my addiction; an addiction without rational explanation. One can understand the love of a fan for a home-town team but such affection for a team thousands of miles away, in a different country, borders on the incomprehensible.
There is a connection, although it is tenuous at best: My grandparents emigrated from Piemonte, from a small village about 30 km outside of Torino so perhaps they were fans…Well, no, they left bella Italia around 1899, and Torino Calcio wasn’t born until 1906.
The base of support for the “Granata” or Toro is in working class areas of Torino proper, with many tifosi from the ranks of Fiat workers. But why not support the bianconero instead? If logic were to play its part, I could just as easily support the “zebras”. Life would be sunny most of the time, and success, if out of reach, would only be a multi-million Euro player trade away.
Perhaps, it is the history of this fabled team that first attracted me. “Il Grande Torino” as they were once known after World War II, were practically unbeatable, once having ten players simultaneously selected to the Italian National team, and winning 3 consecutive “scudettos” or Italian championships in a row, and on their way to winning a fourth, when their Fiat aircraft crashed into Superga, a hill on the outskirts of Torino on May 4, 1949, killing all on board.
The team can be said to have never recovered from this tragedy, winning only one scudetto during the 1975-76 season in all the intervening years. (Another personal connection: 1975 was the year my son was born.)
Torino has a history of movement between the top two divisions. Machiavelli & Dante could not have envisioned such pressure and suffering visited upon teams, players, and fans with visions of which circle of hell you will be assigned to, always looming.
Currently, Torino is in Serie B with 21 other teams, all struggling for promotion which is only available to the top 3 teams, and all desperate to avoid relegation to Serie C.
In the Spring of 2002, I convinced my wife, Darlene, that we should spend our vacation in Italy: “We can visit the Vatican, and see the treasures of Florence. I will be able to go to the village in the Alps where my nonno and nonna grew up!”
All sound reasons, but, all false. As any true pilgrim, I knew it was required of me to pay homage at the Stadio Del Alpi, to worship from the Curva Maratona. So that was it; a two week vacation based on a 90 minute soccer game.
Throughout the entire trip I would explain to everyone I met ad nauseum in my halting Italian, that this was my first visit to the land of my ancestors, and that I was a follower of Torino Calcio. (The first comment would always bring forth great approval, while the second would invariably result in a sad shaking of the head.)
On the day of the match we left from the Jolly Hotel after a hearty lunch (“Why didn’t you tell me that carpaccio was raw meat?” queried Darlene.) We had instructions from our waiter to see if we could buy his son an Inter Milan jersey, and two of the staff at the front desk, who were Toro supporters, told us that because of the marathon being run in the city that day, our tram to the stadium could not be caught at its usual stop.
Soon we were hopelessly lost, but a woman “of a certain age”, as the French say, spotted my team scarf, and took us in tow, as we endeavored to keep up racing down the baroque architectured, tree-lined boulevards. Arriving at the stop, we were joined by dozens of tifosi. Quickly, our new friend sent everyone over to meet the Americani, and to hear their impressions of Chicago (Michael Jordan and Al Capone shared top billing among the Torinese).
As time went by, and the tram wasn’t coming, telefonino’s snapped out with urgent calls to the transit police who showed up in a few minutes saying that they too, did not know where our streetcar was. This in turn brought out the phones again, this time with calls to the polizia proper, who showed up with lights flashing and sped off down the street in pursuit of our missing conveyance. As kick off time was approaching, we were all getting more and more agitated—One fan implored, “Don’t tell Bush about our inadequate transportation system.”
Finally, it arrived amid many insults from the waiting passengers. At first, the driver wouldn’t open the doors as he feared bodily harm, but cooler heads prevailed, apologies were proffered, the doors parted and we were on our way.
As we were late, everyone sprinted toward the gates hoping to make the kick off. We stood aside as squads of carabinari in full riot gear marched into the stadium as my long-suffering spouse looked at me with a “what have you gotten us into” expression in her eyes.
Before the game, I had resolved to buy the best seats in the stadium, but being ignorant of the layout, where each gate opened to its own section only, with movement between sections fenced off, we found ourselves in the least expensive seats on the first level in the Curva Maratona…Above us, the “Brigata Rosso”, the ultra fans of Torino Calcio were chanting, beating drums, blowing bugles, waving banners (obscene and otherwise), and lighting flares which the fire brigade were at pains to extinguish as they cheerfully tossed them down on us hapless fans in livello 1.
It has been said that “soccer is not a matter of life and death. It is more important than that.” For the next two hours I know that everyone in that stadium felt just that. Every passion known to mankind was on exhibit. It was grand opera, war and peace, love and hate, ceaselessly until the final whistle, and in the end, this 1-1 tie left us with little consolation. (A victory would have moved us closer to “salvezza” or another year in the top division).
As we made our way through the city back to our hotel, Torinese would spot my scarf and inquire as to the score, taking consolation or sorrow from the result.
Days later, on our last night in Italy, in our hotel in Milan, after reveling in the unbelievable beauty of the Duomo, Darlene asked me to explain the offside rule, which, after years of standing on the sidelines of my games and our son Derek’s matches in grade school and high school, she wished to master. So with oranges and apples on our cocktail table, I laid it out. When she rearranged the fruit and said, “OK, now lets say that the apples are Torino, the oranges Lecce, and this was that play late in the second half”, it was at that point that I knew that soccer fever was definitely a communicable disease.


Terry Quilico
回复

使用道具 举报

发表于 2007-6-12 10:56 | 显示全部楼层
非常不错的文章.多年前我在SOCCERAGE的小论坛上遇见一个来自佛罗里达坦帕市的TORO球迷,他是意大利的后裔.就这样为了TORO我们奇妙的聚首在那个小论坛上.现在那里已经不复存在了
回复

使用道具 举报

 楼主| 发表于 2007-6-12 11:06 | 显示全部楼层
原帖由 Ultras_Granata 于 2007-6-12 10:56 发表
非常不错的文章.多年前我在SOCCERAGE的小论坛上遇见一个来自佛罗里达坦帕市的TORO球迷,他是意大利的后裔.就这样为了TORO我们奇妙的聚首在那个小论坛上.现在那里已经不复存在了


重点要从这里学习

几天后,在米兰我们所居的旅馆,在我们意大利之旅的最后一夜,在为Duomo教堂的美景着迷之后,达莲娜向我问起了越位规则——许多年后,她站在边线观看我的比赛,还有我们的儿子德里克在小学和高中时的比赛——她想要了解这种规则。所以,接着我们的鸡尾酒台,我摆开了桔子和苹果。当她重新摆放这些水果的时候说,“好的,现在,让我们说这些苹果就是都灵队,而这些桔子就是莱切队,这就是下半场末段的场面”,这时候我明白了,对于足球的热爱显然是会传染的。




btw,也许,他现在也在toronews forum上面

再去找找?

缘,妙不可言
回复

使用道具 举报

 楼主| 发表于 2007-11-2 08:13 | 显示全部楼层
咨询了Gg,
"We stood aside as squads of carabinari in full riot gear marched into the stadium as my long-suffering spouse looked at me with a “what have you gotten us into” expression in her eyes."
这其中的carabinari应该是CARIBINIERI
回复

使用道具 举报

 楼主| 发表于 2007-11-3 19:46 | 显示全部楼层
全文翻译完成
翻译过程中疑惑诸多
请各位看过之后务必给出意见
回复

使用道具 举报

发表于 2007-11-6 19:59 | 显示全部楼层
文章不错
回复

使用道具 举报

发表于 2008-8-2 23:30 | 显示全部楼层
.好文章!
回复

使用道具 举报

发表于 2008-9-21 01:03 | 显示全部楼层
典型的美國式文章
回复

使用道具 举报

发表于 2008-9-21 01:07 | 显示全部楼层
啥叫 美国式文章呢?
回复

使用道具 举报

发表于 2008-9-21 01:11 | 显示全部楼层
就是才有美国人看得懂的...
回复

使用道具 举报

发表于 2008-9-21 01:15 | 显示全部楼层
回复

使用道具 举报

发表于 2013-8-11 14:38 | 显示全部楼层
感人的文章
回复

使用道具 举报

发表于 2014-4-22 17:11 | 显示全部楼层
爱,不分国界,不分时间。
回复

使用道具 举报

您需要登录后才可以回帖 登录 | 加入我们register!

本版积分规则

关闭

站长推荐上一条 /2 下一条

Archiver|手机版|都灵中文论坛ToroChina都灵足球队爱好者

GMT+8, 2024-3-29 20:53 , Processed in 0.144898 second(s), 46 queries , Gzip On.

Powered by Discuz! X3.4

Copyright © 2001-2021, Tencent Cloud.

快速回复 返回顶部 返回列表