Parma v Vicenza

Saturday 12th September 1998

We'd looked at the Italian fixtures before leaving for Italy; but no games appeared to fit in with our itinerary. I'd enquired about Parma's first game of the season (scheduled for 13th September) - but "Nah" came the reply, "too far out of our way." D'oh! So, it had not been intended! That Saturday morning, I sat up in bed in a caravan in Tuscany and listened to the rain thundering on the roof. Tuscany was just not the same in the rain and another day of this would drive me nuts. We had to drive to Venezia tomorrow anyway - why not pack up and start the trek northwards and stop en route in a hotel? Just as well do that as sit around in the rain all day. So we did!! At Bologna, we stopped to fill up with petrol and bought a copy of the "Guerin Sportivo", an Italian football magazine. Hello! It appeared that Parma's game with Vicenza had been brought forward to - TONIGHT! (I hardly dared breathe a word!). So we found a nice hotel in Modena (only 30 miles from Parma) and the subject was broached. There was much moaning, but eventually, agreement was in order and we set off (in the sunshine) towards Parma. It was about 5.30pm.

We'd been to Parma before (to look for the Tardini!), but it wasn't by any means a familiar town to us. However, we got lost quicker than we usually did - and then - voila! Floodlights!! We parked in a pay-per-view car park and then HIKED (I mean walked very fast on cobbles and in gutters and uphill) towards the floodlights. It was miles!! What happened next is unforgiveable; extraordinary; absolutely totally the actions of the very brain-dead. I mean, we should really have known. The signs were there for all to see! Not a fan in sight; not a car parked within a mile or two; no stalls; no smell of anticipation; no anything!!! Where did they sell the tickets?? Ah, there! "There" was a little wooden trestle table (I kid you NOT!). As we approached, an elderly man, wearing a worn jacket and misty eyes, scurried (slowly) over to the table. "Biglietti?" "Ah, si". "Not behind the goal please" (a request met with a squint of one misty eye and a twitch at the corner of the mouth). OK, so the man conjured up what appeared to be a book of raffle tickets (honestly!) , tore some off and handed them over. "Very reasonably priced" observed the husband - as the man fetched change from (this is true!) a little cardboard box!!!!!!!!!!! How could we possibly have been so totally DIM!!!!! We BOUGHT tickets - HERE!!! We thought they were for a SERIE A game?!?!? "What time do the gates open?" Up went nine fingers. NINE??? Unusual! The man bade us to enter if we wished and to sit where we wanted. Up those steps we galloped (not another soul in sight) and, horror of horrors, what confronted our eyes was amazing (but how could we have possibly thought otherwise??) - not, in fact, the Ennio Tardini - but a BASEBALL ground!!!!! My goodness, we were back down those steps smartish!! We hot-footed it out of there as fast as we could (the hub didn't even bother to try to get his money back, which, in itself was a worrying sign!). The man waved to us, as if to say, "yes you English fools, come back when you like - go and have a little walk around." As soon as we were out of sight, we howled - bent double with laughter - oh how STUPID we were!!

So then, how to get to the Tardini? Would there be any tickets left at this late hour? I asked a couple for directions to the "stadio calcio" (my best Italian, you understand). They shrugged, so, was my best Italian that bad? No, they turned out to be tourists like ourselves. Then I asked a man in a shop and he looked at me like I was a little bit touched, "a piedi?". "Well, si". I think he said it was one helluva way away - best to go 'in macchina'. Hmm. We thought about getting a taxi (because our macchina was parked practically a whole time-zone away) and then we figured that we might not remember where the car was parked - so we hiked back up the cobbles (weirdly still uphill) and in the gutters, back to the car-park. We found the car, no problem, but we couldn't find the way back to the main road! "Senso unico" were the streets (one-way) and we went around them about twenty times (absolutely NO exageration) and it was beginning to feel like we were in a bad dream. "Calm down, calm down". Eventually, with immense relief, we got out of that maze of back-streets - and headed off into which direction?. We just followed our instincts (and the heavy traffic) and about half an hour later, we found the ground! We found THE Tardini! It was cordoned off by many, many police and there were cars all over the place - and it was raining!! "PARK somewhere!!!" came the hysterical shrieks to the husband. "Exactly where would you care for me to park, exactly??" I didn't think there was any need for sarcasm. Just because we were stuck in traffic with horns blasting and the rain hammering down; there was no need for that. I turned on the radio. AAAH! They had commentary from the game. "Asprilla blah blah Veron blah blah". I allowed a tear to sneak out of the corner of one eye. Well, actually, I wept and wailed and stamped my feet like a spoilt brat (not really!). "PLEASE park the car!!!" Well, he did - miles away - on a pavement. Others had done it, so why not us?? It was a bit worrying (the Italians are big on towing cars away). but we left it there and strolled up the leafy streets towards the ground.

It was raining very hard and none of us had coats, and when we got to the stadium, there appeared to be no way in. (Exciting roars from inside though - we just had to get in). At last, a kindly Parma employee climbed out of his cozy, dry cabin to show us where the tickets were on sale. From a woman in a caravan - and she was just on her way out, with briefcase containing all the takings and the remaining tickets. However, we were lucky and made it just in time.

It took us a further 10 minutes or so as we searched for our entry gate - but then, there we were - inside the Tardini! There were plenty of seats at this end of the ground, but they were all soaking wet - so we stood at the front, behind the goal. Buffon!!!! Thuram!!!! Cannavaro!!!!! Wow! Dino Baggio - now then, he looked HUGE! The husband expressed surprise at the great names that played for this Parma team (he is Serie A totally ignorant) as we watched this (not very good) game. Buffon appeared to be playing with the proverbial teflon gloves; dropping a few balls; only the poor finishing by Vicenza saving him. It was very quiet up that end (opposite to where the "Bhoys" sang and the megaphone blasted), hardly a whisper. Only the away fans in the corner made any noise (and shot off the occasional red flare). All around us were oldish men with cushions on their heads (not a fashion statement, we presumed - rather just to keep the rain off) and they occasionally muttered something unintelligible, but there was no singing or even any movement to speak of. Half-time. 0-0. Full-time. 0-0. It was a pretty dull game - befitting the weather. Veron had been substituted, as was to be the usual throughout that season, and Parma never looked likely after that.

AC Parma seats - close up!!

Everybody was wet - but happy???

Much to our relief, the car was still there, where we'd left it. We passed several accidents on the rain-sodden motorway, we "lost" our hotel - but, eventually, we were back in our room and reflecting on the evening. We might have been wet and weary, the game might have been very, very dull and, in retrospect, perhaps the baseball game might've been a better bet (they won the Champions League, you know!) but we had been to a Parma game and seen all those lovely boys! Magical! A warning to all though. If Parma is strange to you, but you decide one day that you want to go to a game - take a STREET MAP, and remember:

THERE'S MORE THAN ONE STADIUM IN PARMA!!!

Parma Baseball Ground - another day!

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POINT OF INTEREST Programmes We had looked around outside the Tardini for a programme-seller, but there had been none - only stalls selling cheap replica shirts. Of course, we take programmes for granted in England - but they are not for sale in Italy. Parma actually give small programmes away (as they also do in Spanish grounds) - but only to the folk in the dear seats. For anyone who wondered what a Parma programme looked like though, here is a half-scale scan of the "Versus Roma, 13.12.98" one (kindly sent to me by Andy Gardener).