(The only man alive who can look good in pleather.)
Down 0-1 to an away goal, Rosenborg came out flying in Florence, which must have been a bit of a surprise to La Viola, what with how bad their visitors looked last week, and the fact that they're still not in season. (They did, however, beat Valencia twice in the CL group stages, so they're not exactly crap.) Rosenborg more or less dominated the first 25 minutes, but then Fiorentina took control and, though they insisted on passing the ball to the other team around the box far too much -- Frey was not a happy man -- the game was never really in doubt after Liverani's first half goal. Cacia made it two after replacing Pazzini late in the second half, but the clean sheet was lost due to some sloppy defending just before time. It was all good, though, and Fiorentina
move on by a 3-1 aggregate score to the last 16 against Everton, who scored a shitload of goals yesterday.
Fiorentina 2-1 Rosenborg (3-1 agg)
Liverani 37 (F), Cacia 80 (F), Kone 89 (R)
Fiorentina: Frey; Ujfalusi, Kroldrup, Dainelli, Pasqual; Donadel, Montolivo (Jorgensen 64), Liverani (Kuzmanovic 83); Semioli, Pazzini (Cacia 72), Mutu
Rosenborg: Jarstein; Basma (Lago 54), Kvarme, Demidov, Nordvik; Strand, Tettey, Skjelbred, Konan (Iversen 71); Sapara, Kone (Pelu 90)
Check out that banner on the upper right. Niiiiice.
According to the official Viola page, Kroldrup is 6'1". I'm assuming that's very, very wrong, otherwise this is a team of midgets. (Also, I think Frey is on his toes.)
Pazzini still very badly needs to shave.
As usual, he had a ton of chances and either blew them or had them saved.
Also as usual, there was a lot of this.
It must just drive him NUTS that he can't score in Europe (especially since it took Cacia about 15 minutes across two games to do it.)
Even though he didn't score, Mutu's great form continued, which is very encouraging ahead of Roma this weekend.
Pity about that facial hair, though.
Liverani, meanwhile, made his first appearance in more than a month and was fantastic -- like, MOTM fantastic.
He scored from far away, and immediately fled.
He was extremely excited, as was everyone else.
Donadel especially.
"YOU'RE HURTING ME!"
Look at Liverani's little joyous fist sticking out. &hearts
Look out, Pazzini preparing for flight!
What's gotten into the Princess? When has he ever, ever done anything that cute before?
See what I mean? Waaaay taller than 6'1".
"Right, short people. Back to work."
"Yeah, it's cool. I'm cool."
("Heee. I scored! You saw, right?")
You know who was oddly absent from that celebration.
Busy fixing his hair, maybe?
(Not to worry, though, he'd soon correct things.)
Cacia came on for Pazzini in the 72nd minute.
(See? He's a bird.)
It took him all of eight minutes to score with a great, instinctive finish of which the Princess was more than likely a wee bit jealous.
First goal for the club means lots of running around and, um, hand kissing.
And, also, nuzzling by teammates.
Is he looking at the camera? Trying to find someone he'd rather hug?
Looking for Pubes, perhaps? *shudder*
He didn't score, but Dainelli was there, too.
I'm not gonna lie, he's making me all kinds of nervous these days with his awful backpasses.
Gazzetta weren't impressed, either -- he got a 5.5, which was the lowest score on the team.
If he pulls that shit against Roma, the score will be about 1-7, and Seb will take him out and beat him senseless.
Speaking of, his leg has healed and his back and just as perfect as ever.
Even when his team are trying very hard to screw him, for some reason.
(And, look -- even got time to meet with the fans. Awwwwww.)
Ahem. Sorry, I digress.
Look, Monty!
And Pasqual!
Giant, ass-kicking Kroldrup!
[Insert Nordic RAWR here.]
Donadel's got a trim (!), and continued to play great.
(Who would have thought someone with that hair could be so reassuring?)
WINNARS!
Thanking the peeps.
If I had to to guess, I'd say Kroldrup is about 6'9". That's reasonable, right?
Ujfi in Disgruntled Baron mode, just for Marie.
Roma Sunday, as you may have heard. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go poison all of their midfield.