San Valentino di San Sandro
Rating: PG-13 to R
Disclaimer: I dont know anything or own anybody. You need to check yourself into an asylum if you believe everything I write.
A big thank you to sexycanna for the pics
I kinda threw this together at work this afternoon. With a snow storm going wild outside, I just wanted to write something nice. I showed this to Frank and expected him laugh at me. He didnt, so I guess I'm still a sane person.
May, 1998. Coverciano, Italy.
The Azzurri coach Cesare Maldini is assigning rooms and roommates for his 23 member squad that will represent Italy in the upcoming World Cup in France.
“Inzaghi with Vieri, that’s a given,” Cesare told himself. And following the tradition, he’d put players from the same club in the same room. “So what we have here, Cannavaro with Buffon, that shouldn’t be a problem; they’re close friends. Albertini with Costacurta…”
“Mister!” Cesare looked up. Two of his young talented central defenders were standing at the door. “What can I do for you, Fabio and Sandro?”
“Mister,” Canna started, “can you put Sandro and I in the same room? I know Gigi very well already. Sandro and I think we should be roommates so we can bond and understand each other better. That’ll help our performance on the field.”
Paolo sneered at the room assignment. He has told his father he’d have no problem rooming with that kid from Lazio, the lone representative of Lazio on this national team. But Paolo’s just as happy to find out his father has assigned Roby Baggio as his roommate, his close friend for 8 years. Paolo enjoys Roby's company because they always goof around make fun of one another even though they truly admire each other’s talents and charisma.
That World Cup was a disaster for Sandro, who suffered a tournament ending injury. For Canna, however, the tournament has established his solid position in the national team. People remembered his passion, talents, and above all, his fight-on, never-quit spirit. When his cheek almost got scattered, he insisted on receiving stitches right there on the sideline and came back on the field with a mask, just a few minutes later. What people don’t know is that, on the night when Sandro got injured, packing up his stuff to go back to Italy the next day, aside from attempting to kiss away Sandro’s pain, Canna promised Sandro that he’ll fight and play for both of them.
“Cannavaro helped me a great deal on the night I got injured in France, more than a teammate, a friend.” Sandro told one journalist later on.
July, 2002. Rome, Italy.
Another World Cup has gone by, another heartbreaking injury for Sandro, and another devastating defeat for Italy. Fabio and Sandro’s relationship, however, is getting stronger than ever despite the ongoing pressure Fabio felt from Paolo Maldini. At the end of Italy vs. Ecuador match, when Fabio saw the way Paolo embraced Sandro and kissed him, he couldn’t help but want to make a stronger statement. He leapt onto Sandro, wrapped his legs around Sandro’s waist, arms around his neck. Sandro closed his eyes, face relaxed and let out a content smile. Canna knew at that moment, that nothing has changed; Sandro is still his. A bright smile appeared on his Angel Face while he’s still carried by Sandro.
Now, they have something else to worry about. Last year, when Juventus took Buffon and Thuram away from Parma, Canna stayed. However, without Gigi and Lilian, Parma isn’t the same Parma and Canna’s in contact with Inter now. Sandro’s Lazio went bankrupt and they wanted Sandro to go. Sandro has insisted he doesn’t care about money. He wanted to finish his career at the club he loved ever since he's a little boy. Yet the club management doesn’t seem to be very understanding.
“If I were you, I’d leave Rome to save my career, Sandro.” Totti said. “We’re supposed to hate each other but we grew up together and you’re my friend. 6 straight losses in the Derby, Sandro. You don’t have to go down with a sinking boat. But of course the Derby won’t be the same without you. I’m gonna miss you.”
“I want to join Inter. I’m going to Milano.” The usually reserved Sandro finally opened up to the media on his future..
August, 2002. Milan, Italy
Thousands of fans in Milan gathered around to welcome their newly signed defender. From a balcony, Sandro threw a No. 13 jersey to the crowd. Everything went well except, the jersey’s colors are black and red instead of black and blue he previously envisioned. They say Paolo Maldini convinced management at Milan at the 11th hour of the transfer season. So here he is.
“Maybe Fabio and I were never meant to play in the same club together.” Sandro said in an interview on his transfer to Milan.
Across town, a No. 13 black and blue jersey was assigned to Fabio Cannavaro upon his request. “It should have been your jersey, my Angel.” Canna explained his request to Sandro, “I asked for it so I can feel better wearing the number you wear, the jersey that should have belonged to you.”
Maldini, one of the greatest left backs to have ever played the game, changed his position to central back upon Sandro’s arrival. Age has caught up on him, he said to Ancelotti. Constant running up the field assisting in attacks are just too much for him at the age of 34. He’d like to shift to central back. With Nesta being his partner, Milan’s central defense should be as solid as ever.
May, 2006. Coverciano, Italy.
“Do we talk about the scandal?” Sandro Nesta repeated the question journalists have asked him. “We talked about little else. It’s a betrayal. Whoever did this betrayed football.” Sandro was also joined by his Milan captain Paolo Maldini, stating that they would not want to win championship the way Juventus did.
“They all do it.” Canna told journalists. “You can’t point finger at one person because everybody in football is doing dirty stuff.”
After that press conference, Sandro found himself in the room Gigi and Canna are sharing. Their relationship had been on rocks ever since they both got to Milano. Between Canna’s constant struggle at Inter and the ever growing threats from Maldini, Canna became less tolerant and more jealous. After Canna’s transfer to Juventus, their relationship fell apart. Now when they’re on national duties, Sandro shares room with his Milan buddy Andrea Pirlo, while Gigi’s very happy to room with Canna.
“What do you mean everybody’s doing dirty stuff in football?” Sandro began.
“Look, I’m just saying nobody’s innocent. You think Juventus is the evil one. But investigators are up Milan headquarter going over financial statements as we speak.”
“I’m asking what have YOU done, Fabio!” Sandro demanded. “Did you do something I don’t know? Is it true that they said you intentionally played poorly at Inter in order to speed up your transfer to Juventus?”
Canna could literally hear and feel his heart breaking. The whole world can doubt his sincerity about wanting to stay at Inter. But how could Sandro do the same? How many times does he need to publically announce that he never wanted to leave Inter, that he left regrets at Milano? Even Gigi could tell that on the day of transfer, Fabio's hiding his sadness behind his signature smile. If anything, they should wonder why he's not thrilled to reunited with Gigi and Lilian, and to play alongside with his childhood hero Ciro Ferrara. After all these years, after all they’ve gone through, how could Sandro, out of all people, cast doubts on him?
“Yes, Sandro. I intentionally put on a bad performance at Inter so I can get away from you, from you and Maldini.”
When desperately looking for reassurance, people usually fail to pick up sarcasm. Sandro’s no exception. “You know, Fabio, maybe they’re right. Maybe you should think about giving up your captaincy after what you’ve done.” With that, Sandro stormed out of the room.
“What’s the fucking point for me to hand out my armband when in your heart, that band is still on Maldini’s arm as if he never handed it down to me!” Fabio shouted at the slamming door, wiping tears off before anybody could see it.
“Oh dear God, not again!” Gigi Buffon banged his head against shower wall as he listened to the shouting match.
February 14th, 2007. Miami, Florida, USA.
Sandro’s still in a medical facility receiving treatment for his left shoulder. He’s been here for two months now. He missed Italy, but it has been good here in Miami in some sense. In the U.S. he can finally live in peace. Nobody knows who he is. He’s just some Italian guy with broken English. Paolo came to see him during winter vacation. Gabriela returned to Italy after the New Years. He called her this morning and sent her flowers. After all, she’s the mother of his daughter. Paolo, however, sent him a bouquet along with a real estate broker. “I know you’re looking for a vacation house in Miami, Sandro. Maybe my broker can help you out. That house next to mine isn’t a bad choice.”
The day has been good so far. Yet there’s something missing, somebody missing. He and Fabio reconciled after that fight, for Azzurri’s sake and only for Azzurri’s sake. When Sandro got injured for the 3rd time in a row in the World Cup, Fabio did what any captain would do, no more, no less. When Fabio won Paollone d’Oro, Sandro called Fabio’s agent asking him to congratulate Fabio. When Sandro went under the knife, he got a get well text message from Fabio. Sandro didn’t know Fabio was contemplating on coming to Miami for winter holidays but decided to go back home to Napoli after turning on his Satellite TV and seeing Maldini talk to journalists at the Milan Malpensa airport: “My family’s going to Miami. We need to get away from this cold Milan weather for a while.”
“Li ho messi via perche’ a sbagliare sono bravissimo da me…ho messo via un bel di cose ma non mi spiego mai il perche’, io non riesca a metter via te...” Sandro sprinted off the massage bed flipped open his phone. He can hear his masseuse yelling “Nesta! Come back here if you want your shoulder to be ready for Champions League!”
“Sorry, it will only take a minute.” Sandro shouted back.
A call from Madrid, he has to take it. “Pronto?”
“Sandro. I’m glad you picked up your phone.” There’s a slight pause at the other end. “I’m surprised they’re keeping you in the States for another month. We missed you in that knighting ceremony and Oscar del Calcio. So anyway…how’s it going in Miami?”
Everybody hates bad cell phone connections. Yet sometimes a curse can be such a blessing. The horrible trans-Atlantic reception broke up Canna’s sentences. All Sandro managed to hear are “missed you” and “Miami (Mi ami)?” *1)
Without thinking it twice, Sandro responded: “Si. Ti amo, Fabio.” *2)
Not exactly the answer to Canna’s question. But oh boy, what a sound of gospel that is to Canna’s longing heart. “I love you, too, my Angel.” Like Sandro, Fabio replied without a giving it a second thought.
After talking to Sandro, Canna’s next phone call, on this day of love, strangely enough, was made to his agent--maybe it’s the time for him to push on that Milan transfer a little harder.
*1) mi ami? Translation: Do you love me?
*2) ti amo. Translation: I love you.