My wife got me a book in a charity shop called The Miracle Of Castel Di Sangro and it contains the funniest true story I have ever read. This is long but please read it through. In 1996 Castel had a population of just 5000 yet incredibly they were pushing for promotion to Serie B the Italian second division. An American journalist who fell in love with Italian football during the USA world cup came upon the story while there and followed their fortunes. It has what you would expect,dodgy owner,match fixing etc but they were about to open a new stadium and this is what he writes. "Work on the stadium was progressing feverishly now, it would open officially on the day we played Genoa Gravina (the dodgy owner) made the surprise announcement it would open the next day with an exhibition match that would introduce to Castel the player whom Gravina had just purchased from Leicester City of the English Premiership;Robert Raku Ponnick,of Nigeria. The news hit the town like nothing ever before.A Nigerian forward from the Premiership,Englands equivalent of Serie A.This was the boldest move La Societa had ever made,and one shuddered to think of the cost.But even Gravina must have come to recognise his squad was not good enough for Serie B,his team needed a goalscorer as well. Additional facts and statistics about Ponnick-such as age,goals scored,previous clubs,etc-were hard to come by on such short notice Guiseppe wrote in Il Centro ,but Ponnick himself would be presented at a news conference to be televised live from Pescara on Wednesday night,and he would play in the next days friendly. The story was featured on national newscasts by noon. Tiny Castel had rocked the world of football again.News of Ponnicks signing was sent out worldwide by ANSA,the official Italian news agency.The Societa office was swamped by phone calls from national newspapers ,all demanding privileged seating from which their representatives could witness Ponnicks debut. Granted Leicester were not one of the Premierships stronger clubs,but a quick check of the records showed Ponnick would be the first player from the Premiership to come to Italy since Lazio had bought Paul Gascoigne in 1992 and he would be the first ever to play in Serie B. It was standing room only to watch the press conference at 7 pm.Sure enough,there he was,Robert Raku Ponnick seated between Gravina and the semibilingual local journalist,Leopoldo Gasbarr. Already wearing a Soviet Jeans jersey,Ponnick was tall,thin,and had a totally shaved head.He spoke perfect English which gave me a rare advantage. And a good thing too,for if someone had been translating for me, I would have been sure I had misunderstood.Ponnick didn't wait for questions,or even for an introduction.He just started talking,while Leopoldo translated into Italian as fast as he could.And I could hardly believe what I heard. "I know I come late in the season" he began"but still I will score the most goals in the league.But that is nothing.I have seen this Serie B and I am far superior,it will be a joke.I will score the most goals that have ever been scored in Serie B.I don't know how many that is,but it does not matter, I will do better. Leopoldo asked him if he thought his presence would assure Castel promotion. "You mean STAYING in this rinky dink B division?Shee-it.Forget that my man.That be negative thinkin'.No we going to Serie A!You got my word on that.This year.No question.Now that I'm here Castel is a Serie A team.There's no-one who can stop me.And if my team won't pass me the ball,I'll just go and get it myself.I can dribble,I can shoot with both feet,and I give great head. Ponnick leered as he gave the double entendre,which was lost on his Italian audience,but not on me.O Dio mio!.What would happen when this mans blood was tested for drugs?Then he began what was almost a rap monologue,leaving Leopoldo in the dust and everyone demanding that I translate immediately. “I got to warn the people of Castel whatever-clever,if you value your women, keep ‘em inside. Cause if they be sweet lookin’,I’m gonna **** ‘em. And I don’t care whose daughter,I don’t care whose wife.To score goals, I need my pussy.And I tell you right now; I got the biggest dick in Italy.So get ready ladies,get ready.Your magic moment and magic man have arrived.Robert Raku Ponnick will rake you over the coals and entertain you like you never been enterained before.And I mean on and off the pitch†No, No not possible ,I said to myself.This could not be happening,Gravina , not understanding a word of English,remained oblivious.But Leopoldo was looking at his shirt collar as if it was six sizes too small,and obviously someone in the studio knew enough to send a techinician running to prevent him saying any more. “Hey, what the **** man!†Ponnick shouted, as the technician tryed to pull the microphone from his jerseyGravina looked on dumbfounded.Then all sound was cut off.Then the screen went blank.The place was in chaos, with me taking the easy way out ,clapping my hands over my ears ,claiming,â€Non capisco†and fleeingas fast as I could. Chaos was rampant by the next afternoon.An hour before the exhibition was due to start,5,000 people were surging at the new stadiums shiny gates.Large TV trucks with satellites on top clogged the new parking lot. As usual I went through the players entrance but found my wal blocked by Jaconiâ€Only for today ,Joe†he said apologeticallyâ€We don’t want Ponnick to get nervous,no-one is permittedâ€As he spoke sweat poured from him in a way I’d never seen before It was a mob scene,no admission was being charged for Ponnicks debut and someone threw the gates open allowing 5,000 people into an area that only held 3,000. I spotted Galli (a player) in an elegant suit which was strange because he was supposed to be playing in 15 minutes. There were tears streaming down his face.†Good-bye Joe†he said and hugged me.I spotted Christian and asked him what was wrong.â€La Societa†he said glumly “To pay for Ponnick,they must sell a player and they chose Giacomo . Because Ponnick will score all the goals now. He goes to C1 tomorrow, he is no longer a member of the team†Galli was grief stricken and was saying he could imagine life anywhere else.We squeezed into seats for the match,no-one seemed to know who the opposition was , which was odd as the identity of the amateur team was always known in advance. Not that it mattered, all that mattered was Robert Raku Ponnick. As the players filed on to the field,Ponnick pushed his way forward in the line and ran on ahead by himself, waving and grinning to the crowd, which responded with a standing ovation. All eyes were on him as the match began, he had long loping stridesthat led him all over the pitch regardless of the position of the ball. He seemed oblivious to any sense of tactics. He also tripped 2 or 3 times in a tangle of limbs, getting up and pointed to the pitch as if it were not fit to play on.At one point, ignoring the play going on all around him, he picked up a handful of turf,holding it at arms length and shaking his head before throwing it down in disgust. But then he decided to join the action. It became clear all he wanted was the ball and as he had said he wasn’t really willing to wait for a pass. He ran to Michileni and kicked the ball out from under his legs,giving him a hard shove in the process. The whistle. The referee ran over waving a yellow card at Ponnick. “Christian†I said “Can you get a yellow card for fouling your own man?†“ I don’t know “ he said , sounding worried. Galli had buried his head in his hands, this was more than he could bear to watch. When play resumed Martino threw the ball to Ponnick, who immediately set off for the opponents goal,closely shadowed, but not impeded, by 2 defenders. From about 30 yards out he let fly with a shot- which missed the goal by more than 30 yards. Around us fans began looking at each otherand shaking their heads.The opposition looked even worse than the usual run of amateurs. Martino passed the ball to Ponnick ,who was standing,back to goal,in the middle of the penalty area. The ball bounced off his knee and Ponnick fell down without having been touched by an opponent. Another whistle, and the referee indicated a penalty. It was as bad a call as I had ever seen but apperantly the referee had been told to give Ponnick every chance to strut his stuff. Vincenzo stepped up to take the penalty but Ponnick would not give him the ball.Instead he angrily waved him away and when he did not retreat Ponnick threw the ball down and lunged at him, beginning to grapple. Half a dozen players rushed and pulled them apart. Cei the captain was looking at the desperately for instructions,Jaconi indicated he did,in fact want Ponnick to take the penalty. The ref placed the ball on the spot and stepped back but Ponnick bent down and moved it 6 inches to the left.The referee ran up , shook a warning finger at him and moved the ball back.He whistled for the kick to be taken, but Ponnick suddenly clutched his right side,doubled over as if in severe pain , wobbled backwards 3 steps and sank to the ground.The trainer and doctor sprinted on to the field, as others gathered round to see what had happened.Even the opposing keeper came forward, concerned he may have had some sort of serious attack or been hit by an object from the stands. As soon as he say the open net, Ponnick sprang to his feet, took two quick strides towards the ball and kicked it into the goal, after which he immediately began a jog around the field, grinning and waving his arms in jubilation and inviting the fans to join him, though none did. No goal,of course no goal! Now the referee ruled he had forfeited his chance to take the take. Enraged, he sprinted toward the official,Altamura and D’Angelo restrained him, then he Appeared to spit in Altamuras face D’Angelo shoved Ponnick away, Altamura stepped forward pointing to his face and raising his fist at Ponnick.The whole squad was now milling about as reserve players ran on to the field, followed by Jaconi. Into this mass of cursing, heaving bodies the referee plunged. But Ponnick reached forward and pulled his little black book containing the red and yellow cards from his pocket. He threw the book to the ground but waved the red card in Altamura’s face. Altamura exploded and threw a right handed punch which landed on Ponnick’s jaw,knocking him to the ground. Jaconi pressed forward and tried to help the Nigerian to his feet, for which he was rewarded with an ugly shove.And then Ponnick pushed through the ring of players all around him and started to walk toward the sideline. The referee meanwhile , having retrieved his red card, caught up with Ponnick and showed it to him , making it clear an expulsion had occurred. But Ponnick seemed beyond caring. He walked toward the sideline and the thousands who had gathered to cheer him began to boo.This man was an utter disgrace! He was a lunatic! Ponnick raised his middle finger high pointing it at all sectors of the stands.The jeering fans began to throw soda and water bottles , but by then he had disappeared into the dressing room. Pale and shaking, Galli pushed past us and ran for the exit . But at the same moment the entire amateur squad proceeded to the middle of the field holding hands.They spread into a single line, applauding the fans. And then loping towards them came Ponnick . He shook hands with each of them and turned to wave to the crowd. The public address announcer asked for a warm greeting for the Guastafeste Proffessional Acting Troupe and their star performer Robert Raku Ponnick! The whole game had been a charade.And the climax , as it were, was when the referee ran on to the field, pulled down his shorts and mooned the shocked and baffled residents of Castel di Sangro. It turned out all the players , except Galli who thought he was being sold were told Ponnick was an actor and that the owner Gravina had arranged the whole farce hoping to be broadcast on a local tv football programme.The players had no choice but to play along as he hoped it would raise the clubs profile. Ponnick turned out to be an English actor . The press were outraged and the owner denied all knowledge of the affair ,which no one believed and he tried to blame it all on the clubs PR manager. In the end they actually did win promotion against all the odds.
Quiet a long story but a good one none the less. Nice the way the chairman had every one fooled. Id say that was before the days of google alright.
I feel sorry for Galli, poor fecker thought he was getting shafted for your man and then it turns out it was all a PR stunt.