The statue in the center of Bologna--Neptuno
Ok, so I didn’t like Bologna. The best thing about the city was the game and that was 3 hours out of my 3-4 day trip. To be honest, and I think I’ve said this before; I had no expectations for that city. I was only going for the game and had no prior desire to visit it. My biggest complaint would be how expensive it was to get everywhere because of how spread out it was. For that reason, I didn’t get to experience the city how it was probably meant to be experienced. I could have, I’m sure, but I chose to save my money for Venice & be a little less active in Bologna. So, please, don’t take my entry too literally because it was more my personal decision to be less active while there. Bologna could be the perfect place for you! It just was not for me. My hotel choice was probably an error, as well. The hotel was very nice and the people were very pleasant, the location just sucked. When I chose the hotel that I did, I knew nothing about Bologna (still don’t, really), so I just looked for something close to Futurshow Station (where the game was). It was still a 14 Euro taxi ride to get there and it was really close! I don’t know… maybe they read that I was a foreigner and took advantage of me big time. Who knows? Anyway, the area was safe and quiet, but there wasn’t much for tourists to do in the general area (within walking distance). So, Bologna was a bust in my opinion, minus the basketball game, of course.
I did love the beautiful trees, plants, and colors that were all over Bologna
The first time I got to see Jacob Pullen play basketball in person was in Italy. That sentence right there is very cool to me. Him actually helping me out personally is not how I expected for it to happen, but it makes the adventure that much better. I have to say, the week prior to departure was a bit nerve-racking. I am the type of person that wants events like that to be planned out in advance and I like to have confirmation numbers and receipts to ensure that things will go off without a hitch (as far as the things I can control, of course). When Pullen said he would hook me up with the tickets, I was obviously quite excited, but my mind started running with questions of how to get the ticket, when to get the ticket, would I be able to meet him, am I screwed not speaking any Italian? A million questions! I asked him a few of the questions and researched online for a few of the other questions. Sometimes, he replied. Sometimes, he didn’t. I didn’t hear from him most of the week prior to the game. It was actually the day before the game that I finally heard something. All I could think about was, “What if he doesn’t come through? What if I don’t know how to get the ticket? What if I flew to Italy and it doesn’t work out? If it does work out, I wonder where my seat will be?” I mean, let’s be honest, he doesn’t know me. What if I was some psycho girl? He had no real obligation to help me and I was just going on his word that he would help me out. I was hoping he would come through. And he did. The unfortunate Twitter drama that happened Saturday didn’t allow me to meet him prior to the game. Obviously, and quite rightfully so, he had other things on his mind that were much more important. Although I was bummed, I have to understand that type of situation. I couldn’t imagine being in the national spotlight like that, haha. Wouldn’t want that headache! Anyway, I arrived at the arena. The taxi dropped me off outside a gate where there were a bunch of people standing. I couldn’t see a ticket office, but I stood in line for 20 minutes or so. They hadn’t opened the gate yet and I noticed that when people were walking up to the arena, no one else was getting in line behind me. They all kept walking. So, I walked around a little bit and found a security person that spoke a little English and he directed me to the ticket office on the other side of the arena. Good thing I asked! I headed off in that direction and found the office. It hadn’t opened yet, so I just stood there & waited with others. Once it opened, I walked up to the window and immediately asked if they spoke English. The guy pulled over a different girl. I asked if I was in the right spot for picking up a ticket. Indeed, I was. I gave them my ID and waited, hoping that they’d come back with a ticket and not come back and tell me that they had no idea what I was talking about. After a short wait, they appeared with an envelope that had my name on it and my ticket in it. I could breathe! HaHa! I made my way inside and had to ask a couple times where to go for my section. The girl, who spoke very broken English, directed me to what she thought was my seat. However, she counted from the top down to my row. I didn’t even question it (I thought it was weird that they wouldn’t start from the bottom) and sat down. But, I started to look around and noticed that all other sections began at the bottom (as it should be, haha!). I went and asked her, just to be certain, and she apologized, said I was correct, and I made my way down. I was in the front row!! Way better! J I was hoping that, seeing as it was a player that hooked it up, that the seats would be decent. And it worked out! Score! I had sat there for awhile before they came out to stretch and warm up. First reaction to seeing him in person was a little laugh at his infamous beard. HaHa! J The game itself wasn’t very impressive. I didn’t know what to expect, though, either. Pullen didn’t have a very good game. I think he only had 7 points. That part was kind of disappointing. I was hoping he’d have a standout game and I could see him draining those beautiful threes all night long. No such luck. The game was very sloppy. It seemed, for both teams, that every person played for themselves. They forced so many shots and there were a lot of selfish players. I suppose that’s how it works sometimes, though. It didn’t seem like the ‘team’ concept was really existent. I also paid attention to some of the interactions. I noticed Pullen went to every player (of the opposing team) and shook their hand prior to tip-off. He also was one of the few that handed the ball to the ref rather than just throwing it in the general direction and running off. And at the end of the game, he went and acknowledged the other team’s coach. Classy things like that make me appreciate an athlete more. Angelico Biella (Pullen’s team) lost by 9, I think. It was pretty one-sided for the majority of the game, but they made a big run in the 3rd. They tied it, I believe, but then Canadian Solar (the opposing team), made the 4th quarter all about them. The crowd was interesting. There was constantly noise. Behind one goal, there was a massive section dedicated to the home team (similar to a student section--they were quite loud). They all had whistles that they blew constantly when Biella had the ball. The first few times they blew them, I seriously thought it was a ref and that the players were ignoring it, haha! It was quite annoying. J And apparently, there is a traveling group that follows Biella, too, because there was a section that had signs and a bunch of people cheering for Biella. It was like that section was in competition with the home team section throughout the whole game. BUT, when Biella would score, I was thoroughly disappointed in how they didn’t really cheer. Even the people in the Biella section that I was sitting in didn’t really clap. I would clap and I even stood up a couple times, especially when it got close and tied. I just didn’t feel any excitement from the rest of the crowd. Oh well. Maybe it’s a different feeling here, haha. J After the game, I kinda stood up hoping maybe Jake would acknowledge me or something, but he just joined the team in heading to the locker. I didn’t rush out. Some part of me felt like I should stay around and wait to see if he came out. I waited inside for about 25 minutes or so and it was obviously really thinning out in there. I kind of walked around and made it look like I was doing something so no one would kick me out. No one even questioned it, though, when I walked down to the floor. I was getting ready to give up and go get a taxi. I walked through these doors and off to the left I saw a big bus and a bunch of people standing outside it (coaching staff). There was a fence and a gate (that was open) between me & that bus. I also saw two girls standing outside the fence. I just walked up to them and asked them what was going on over there. The one that could speak English said it was the team’s exit. I was like, “Jackpot!” The girls were like, “We can try to go in and maybe they will let us stay. They could tell us to leave, but we could try?” It was like they were wanting me to be the one that went in first, as if I knew what the hell was going on. I literally said, “I feel like I’m standing here trying to be a groupie!” I was saying it as a joke, of course, but the girl replied with, “Well, that’s okay. I am a fun girl. I like to have fun.” Ummmm… I then realized I was standing with groupie hopefuls. I was like, “I just want a picture, that’s all.” Eventually, we mustered up the courage to just walk in the gates. No one even cared. I walked up to one of the staff of the Biella team and asked him if I could take a photo with Pullen before they left. They told me he was still in the locker room and to just wait, but the funny thing is, they didn’t even flinch. I honestly figured me (or us) being that deep into player territory would be highly frowned upon, but no one batted an eyelash. Eventually, Pullen came out the door and I just called his name. I was curious how an introduction would go, too, haha. In the states, it would probably be a handshake. In Spain, it is kisses on each cheek. He walked up and gave me a big hug. We chatted very briefly and grabbed the picture and he had to go. He was the last one in the bus, so they were waiting on him. It was over as quick as it began, but I was satisfied. J He really came through for me and I am super grateful. I am considering coming back to Italy in May to watch another game in Angelico Biella’s hometown. Maybe. He said he’d get me a ticket again if I needed. We’ll see what happens! J So, that’s my BOOK on my day of the Italian professional BB league. J That’s way more than I anticipated writing, I swear! But, I just couldn’t stop & I kept remembering details I wanted to share.
Able to breathe!!!
After the meeting with Pullen, the ‘groupie girls’ and I walked out and I was hoping that there would be a taxi somewhere near… Nope. None. I asked them to call one for me since I didn’t have phone access, so they tried, but never got through. I could see a shopping center across the highway, so I crossed the overpass hoping to find a taxi there or someone who could help me. I wasn’t real positive, though, because I noticed the parking lot was quite empty. I was just keeping my fingers crossed that the center was open and I could ask someone to help me. I was able to get into the mall, but all the stores were closed. I could hear voices, though, so I kept walking until I found them and asked for them to call me a cab. She took my card (the taxi driver had given it to me) and went to make the call. But, during her call, a security guard approached. He wasn’t happy that I was still in the mall. I couldn’t understand a single word that was coming out of his mouth, but I could tell by the tone that he wasn’t happy with my presence. So, he’s trying to ask me questions and get me escorted out while the girl was making the call. It all happened so fast and no one actually told me if she had gotten a cab or not, but he began to escort me out. The girl working at the store told him which entry to take me to and I just followed unsure of what was going on. He led me out the door and then began to gave me directions to where a payphone was. Then, I got even more confused. I thought a taxi was coming for me, not that I would have to call one. I don’t speak Italian. He didn’t speak any English, he just kept saying “telephone” and pointing in a general direction. I am not kidding you that I started freaking out and tears were starting to well up in my eyes. I looked at the payphone, but couldn’t understand a single word on it. I didn’t know how much , what to do… I seriously started freaking out. There were a few people in the parking lot and I just decided to start walking toward them to ask them if they could use their phone to call a taxi for me. The first person didn’t speak English. Then, I ran into a guy that I could tell was a staff member of Canadian Solar (the basketball team) and as I began to speak to him about needing help, I could see a taxi pulling into the lot. I was crossing my fingers, toes, and eyes that the taxi was there for me. It was. So, the girl in the shop did get through to someone. The security guard just didn’t get that memo. I thanked the guy because he was being very nice to me and hopped very quickly into the cab, heart pounding quite hard. That was the worst part of my trip! Worst! I’m just glad that it worked itself out and I made it back to the hotel safely. I never felt like I was in danger, I want to be sure to mention that. Never. I was just very scared that I didn’t know where I was and how to get back to my hotel. It all worked out, though. Phew!
So, Bologna wasn’t my favorite and I probably wouldn’t go back. There isn’t anything else to report about the city. (I am sure you are thinking, “WHEW! She already writes too much!) I apologize for being a bit windy at times, but I don’t want to leave anything out. I suppose you don’t have to read it, haha. As I’ve said before, this is as much as a journal and form of therapy for myself as it is a way for you all to stay up to speed on my life across the Atlantic. Anyway… I’m in Venice now, but I will spread out my entries and you’ll hear about it in the next chapter of my book. J Love to all!!
No comments:
Post a Comment