2008 Woodie Awards
From 'foot fairies' to soccer superfan, I'm a changed man
Matt Kiebus
Issue date: 4/15/08 Section: Sports
By Matt Kiebus
Columnist
ROME - As I write this, study abroad officially ends for me in 10 days, and before next Friday I must complete two 2,000-word ethics papers, one 3,700 word paper for Pope Pius VI, one 1,500 word paper for travel writing and a 2,000 paper on Jesus. Why, you may ask, does he have so much work abroad? Frankly I haven't done anything but travel, drink and eat the last two months. It's been wonderful.
I've traveled the canals in Venice, wine tasted in an ancient castle in the Florentine hills, watched the sun set on the Amalfi coast, met the buffalos that supply our mozzarella cheese. I soaked up the rays in the Costa del Sol in Spain, I downed Guinness with high-school buddies in Dublin, and, oh yeah, I went to Amsterdam (wonder how that slipped my mind).
I schooled Italians with my basketball wizardry, Italian class schooled me -- I set record lows for my inability to speak Italian. I bought a fedora, slammed some limoncello, got lost in Rome repeatedly and fell in love … with a bar called Scholars.
One thing, however, will stick with me from Rome that I never thought would happen: I became a soccer, sorry, futball fan.
Now, this is completely out of character. Growing up, I hated "foot fairies." When people criticized baseball for being too boring I came back with, "Have you ever watched soccer?" I despised it more than lacrosse. (To clarify, I was a baseball player growing up; it was a rivalry about what was the real spring sport.)
Unless Spanish or Mexican announcers were doing the game, nothing about the "European cult" interested me. The game was slow and the players cry more than T.O. Sure, I would watch the World Cup and was bitterly disappointed at Poland, but that's about it.
Then I came to Rome. No SportsCenter, no Sports Illustrated, no ESPN, no Greyhound basketball, no Buffalo Bills football, no Arizona Basketball, no New York Mets baseball. Only AS Roma.
So it began. Games were always on the TV at dinner, and my host's boyfriend was a season-ticket holder, a Superfan of sorts. When Champions League play started I watched a city rejoice over their upset of Real Madrid. All this time I knew the game, but now I know the clubs, their histories, the players, their contracts, their absurdly attractive girlfriends. You thought being an athlete in the States got you tail? Imagine if the United States only had one sport. Life is good.
Columnist
ROME - As I write this, study abroad officially ends for me in 10 days, and before next Friday I must complete two 2,000-word ethics papers, one 3,700 word paper for Pope Pius VI, one 1,500 word paper for travel writing and a 2,000 paper on Jesus. Why, you may ask, does he have so much work abroad? Frankly I haven't done anything but travel, drink and eat the last two months. It's been wonderful.
I've traveled the canals in Venice, wine tasted in an ancient castle in the Florentine hills, watched the sun set on the Amalfi coast, met the buffalos that supply our mozzarella cheese. I soaked up the rays in the Costa del Sol in Spain, I downed Guinness with high-school buddies in Dublin, and, oh yeah, I went to Amsterdam (wonder how that slipped my mind).
I schooled Italians with my basketball wizardry, Italian class schooled me -- I set record lows for my inability to speak Italian. I bought a fedora, slammed some limoncello, got lost in Rome repeatedly and fell in love … with a bar called Scholars.
One thing, however, will stick with me from Rome that I never thought would happen: I became a soccer, sorry, futball fan.
Now, this is completely out of character. Growing up, I hated "foot fairies." When people criticized baseball for being too boring I came back with, "Have you ever watched soccer?" I despised it more than lacrosse. (To clarify, I was a baseball player growing up; it was a rivalry about what was the real spring sport.)
Unless Spanish or Mexican announcers were doing the game, nothing about the "European cult" interested me. The game was slow and the players cry more than T.O. Sure, I would watch the World Cup and was bitterly disappointed at Poland, but that's about it.
Then I came to Rome. No SportsCenter, no Sports Illustrated, no ESPN, no Greyhound basketball, no Buffalo Bills football, no Arizona Basketball, no New York Mets baseball. Only AS Roma.
So it began. Games were always on the TV at dinner, and my host's boyfriend was a season-ticket holder, a Superfan of sorts. When Champions League play started I watched a city rejoice over their upset of Real Madrid. All this time I knew the game, but now I know the clubs, their histories, the players, their contracts, their absurdly attractive girlfriends. You thought being an athlete in the States got you tail? Imagine if the United States only had one sport. Life is good.
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