"Julio Ricardo Cruz, born on 10th Oct. 1974, height: 190 centimetres, weight: 78 kilos, 12 appearances for the Argentines, scoring 2 goals. He used to play for Feyenoord, for whom he scored 50 times in 103 appearances. Honours of him include: 1996/97 Argentina Apertura and Clausura, 1998/99 Dutch Eredivisie, 1999 Dutch Johan Cruijff-schaal (Super Cup). On 1st July 2000, an Italian side Bologna bought this highly-efficient striker from Feyenoord for 430 million Italian Lira......"
"Julio, you know for a striker like you..." Pavel Cruz said after putting off the newspaper. "Italy isn't an easy place to go to."
"I know papa." Julio replied, with a grin on his face. "But I'll just work hard to cope with it."
Pavel sighed, but with an encouraging look on his face. "I believe in you, Julio. You really got the potential of a superstar, and one day you might even stand on top of the world, winning the World Cup for the Albicelestes. "
Silent Julio suddenly was. Habitual silence it was for him.
A while later, he raised his head.
"Papa, thanks for your encouragement." He said. "But I know who I am, I won't hope beyond my ability of realising it. Bati and Crespo are in our national team, Piero and Vieri in Serie A. I might not possibly reach their standard, and I just want to be myself."
Suddenly, a look appeared on Julio's face as if he's going on pilgrimage. He said to himself: But I know, I came to Italy for a big day.
There is a big day waiting for me. I know there is, ever since I started playing.
II
City of Bologna, Stadio Renato Dall'Ara
Long ball chested down by Julio. Zauli was the man marking him.
Grabbing shirt, it was all Zauli could do. And it nearly worked.
Julio was stumbling, but a touch to the left gave him time to recover. He remained control of the ball, and got away from the Atlanta defenders.
One on One!
Taibi, the goalkeeper that night, was throwing himself out of goal - we all know this is not what he's good at. Well, the Argentinian big man had only the keeper to beat, and while staring at the Italian goalie, his temper had grown out of control, just like an eagle without its wings.
Under his arms, left corner, right corner, over his head... at least six ways for Julio to get the ball past the keeper, just a matter of way it seems.
Yet he flicked the ball to the left.
There came Beppe Signori, putting the ball into the empty net. And there he turned and ran, and there he took off his shirt and celebrated.
"You Mad, Julio?! You could've scored that goal yourself!" His agent had gone bananas.
One little smile appeared on Julio's face. "It doesn't matter who scores. You know he's pursuing his 200th goal, he needed that more that I did."
"You have no idea, no idea at all!" Agent jumped out of the chair. "Have you scored that goal, you would've been the top scorer of Bologna this season, and that means 50% increase in your wage next year!"
"Of course I know what you mean, but money isn't that important for me." Julio replied, his eyes were bright as sunshine, his mind crystal clear.
Agent could feel his face heating up. "Oh my god, you are a professional footballer, PROFESSIONAL, understand? Don't give a damn about wage? And may I ask you WHAT DO YOU WANT?"
Silent Julio suddenly was. Habitual silence it was for him.
A while later, a look appeared on Julio's face as if he's going on pilgrimage. He said to himself: What I want is a big day.
There is a big day waiting for me. I know there is, ever since I started playing.
III
City of Bologna.
"Oh my god, it's Signori!" Screams burst out of nowhere in the shopping mall.
People gathered around immediately, holding notebooks or cameras. Shortly, a casual-clothes-wearing Signori was surrounded by fans.
Beside him stood Julio.
Crowds kept pushing, surrounding Signori while pushing Julio aside. As if he disappeared into thin air, or he was simply absent from the scene.
Signori sighed, signing another autograph and was taken another photo. He raised his head, stared at Julio with a wry smile on the face, just like saying "Sorry, mate, couldn't help it".
Julio smiled back.
Signori is a somebody here, Julio didn't need to come to this city to learn this. "And I'm nothing special compared with him", he knew it ever since the start of his professional career.
He didn't care about this, he was even proud of his indifferent status.
Habitually, Julio remained silent, and a look appeared on his face as if he's going on pilgrimage. He said to himself: I came here not for autographs or photos, I came here for a big day.
There is a big day waiting for me. I know there is, ever since I started playing.
IV
Stadio Dall'Ara
Some of the Bologna fans had left the ground. Chants of Inter Milan were heard from the stands that belonged to the home fans.
Inter 2, Bologna 0, 70 minutes gone. For 37 years, Nerazzurri were unbeaten on this ground.
The result of this match was more or less settled.
Even the tireless Carlo Nervo and Tomas Locatelli stopped running, everyone was just waiting for the final whistle, including the referee himself.
But Julio got the ball, went past one player, and another. Bang, goal!
Not a huge amount of applause received - more of a conciliation goal rather. Toldo muttered as a response: that was not bad, pal.
Julio ran with the ball into the area. Toldo didn't have much choice, but to take him down. Penalty! And a red card straight away!
Signori equalised with his usual calm. The whole stadium just went wild - Is it just a dream? It can't be real!
But it's only the beginning!
Julio waved his arms, and as a response the crowd was alive once more. Nervo started breaking into the defense, and Locatelli was back to his usual role as a middleman, the Rossoblu are back. It is the Show Time!
Free kick. Julio. Kicked the ball with power and sent it flying over the wall. Top right corner!
Ear-shattering roars around every corner of the ground. Coming from 2:0 down, coming from behind, and yet we are leading! That's a miracle, an absolute miracle!
Not over yet, corner taken, Julio simply jumped and headed on goal. 4:2!
To the side of the pitch Julio ran, kneeled on one knee and simulated a shot of arrow from a bow. It's his typical celebration after every single goal, and is truly his Julio move and Julio moment!
A standing ovation was paid by the fans, chanting the same name: Grande Julio! Pazza Julio!
"We lost to Cruz, and Cruz alone." Javier Zanetti said in the post-match interview emotionlessly. "We didn't take him seriously, so God made us pay the price, simple as that."
The magnificent turnaround, it appeared in every Bolognese's conversation. This turnaround, this unexpected win for this rather insignificant club.
"A Little Underdog, A Big Turnaround!" Tuttosport had that as a title the other day.
"An underdog? An unexpected win?" Silent Julio suddenly was. He said to himself: I don't just want to win unexpectedly as an underdog, what I want is a big day.
There is a big day waiting for me. I know there is, ever since I started playing.作者: Sancruz 时间: 2007-12-8 01:37:58
V
Turn down the offer from Inter Milan? How can you?!
Smiling, Julio received the No.9 jersey from Massimo Moratti, who kindly brought him to the Nerazzurri. Yes, here he came, Stadio Meazza!
A rather less well-attended press conference - Via Durini 24, hundreds of press conferences like that in the Moratti years. And our main man, Julio, barely a 7 million dollars of transfer fee. Even shin bones of Vieri worth more than that.
And not to mention, the consequence of his arrival was Hernan Crespo's departure!
"I will hang every manager of the club, one by one!" Bobo stood in front of his great companion's locker, biting his lips while glancing at the new big man.
"Cruz." said Hector Cuper without expression on the face. "Moratti brought you here, and sent Hernan to Chelsea. There's no way I could do about it. But, something I must tell you now. For me, maybe, just maybe you would be someone in rotation row."
Silent Julio suddenly was. Habitual silence it was for him.
A while later, he raised his head. "I understand, sir. Just take the responsibility for Inter, and you don't need to care about Julio."
"I came here not just for taking someone's place." Julio said to himself: I came here for a big day.
There is a big day waiting for me. I know there is, ever since I started playing.
VI
Stadio Giuseppe Meazza
Bobo received the ball, turned and shot. Just wide of the post.
Mixture of cheers and boos from the stands.
Angrily, Cuper threw the unfinished cigar on the ground. "Cruz, warm up!"
Julio stood up immediately, started warming up along the side of field. His eyes were shining like diamonds.
The time finally came! His hard work in training, his endless waiting on the bench, all came to an end. It is time!
Yet Kily crossed it in. Bobo's header. Goal!
Inter went ahead, Cuper's Inter Milan was ahead. Then the rest of it was just more or less routine.
Cuper had time to light up another cigar. "Sorry, but Cruz, wait for another while."
Silent Julio suddenly was. Habitual silence it was for him. His eyes seemingly darkened.
Mohamed Kallon stood up and patted on his back. "You will get used to it, mate. Maybe you shouldn't have come. "
Julio sat down on the cold bench. His whole body was like an erupting volcano while standing, but now, he was totally calm.
"I will not regret it." He said to Kallon and to his deeper heart. "I came here for a reason, for a big day in my dream."
There is a big day waiting for me. I know there is, ever since I started playing.
VII
"Substitution for Inter.
Cuper out! Zaccheroni in!"
"Julio." With hesitance said Zac, I will offer you time to play. But whether it's 90 minutes or 10 minutes depends entirely on your performance. Do well, and you will get all there is in return. I can assure you."
One could read eager from Julio's eyes. Eager for battles.
"I will not let you down, sir. I promise!"
Great Header against old club Bologna.
Amazing Volley against strong contender Parma.
Nice Tap against archrival Lazio.
......
Celebration of archery time and time again!
Julio Moment time and time again!
Standing ovation time and time again!
No, you are not mistaken, it is him, the very Julio that sent both the fans and opponents crazy!
Nine wins out of nine! Nine victorious days for Julio!
If this isn't excellence, then what is? If this can't be called perfection, then what can be?!
Yet after missing a number of matches, Bobo was fit again.
Complaining from the bench? Refusing interviews? Spitting? Kicking the advertising boards? Vieri was obviously unhappy. As a result, more often had 'Father' Moratti appeared in changing rooms, and apparently the atmosphere around it wasn't what had been and what should be.
What on earth is happening? Hadn't Inter won their matches?
Tension? Dissatisfaction? Rivalry? What the hell is going on?
Silent Julio always remained. Habitual silence it was for him.
Bobo is Bobo= Bobo forever; Julio is Julio and just Julio.
Just like your arm versus leg in a wrestling match. No bookmakers would even place a bet for the final winner.
"Julio, you WERE simply amazing. And I did my best to keep the promise." Zac looked much older than before. This side of San Siro was far more complex than he'd ever imagined. The difficulties both inside and outside was even more daunting than to lead a messed-up Rossoneri to a Scudetto. "But you know, boss discussed the squad with me a few times last week."
"I know everything, sir." Said Julio calmly and emotionlessly. "I can assure you, even if a 'Julio Phenomenon' is gone forever, there will never be a 'trouble maker Julio'!"
Why not record this and play it Maldini a thousand times, then repeat the whole thing to bloody Jaap Stam? Now, you tell me, what is the Spirit of Knight?!
Cold bench reserved for Julio, yet again.
The only difference was, a slogan 'Come back Julio' remained ever-present in the stadium. And a missed opportunity from Vieri could always lead to ear-wrecking hisses.
"I envy you, honestly." Sighed Kallon. "More games have I played than you, and more goals scored. But they never do the same thing for me."
Smiling, replied Julio: I came here not just for fans to boo some other players. I came here simply because I believe there will be a big day.
There is a big day waiting for me. I know there is, ever since I started playing.
VIII
"Julio, neither you nor me. Again." After the release of the 20-man squad for the weekend, Kallon had just been complaining all day long. "Let's go chill out, and have some fun, will ya?"
"Not for me." Julio replied without even considering the alternative answer. "Thanks for that. But I'll just go for a bath and prepare for the training next morning."
"Training? What's the point?" Kallon couldn't even believe what he heard. "You know what? 24/7 of training, and we still get sold next summer!"
Silent Cruz suddenly was. Habitual silence it was for him.
"Playing the game or not is something, but turning up to training or not is a totally different matter." Yes, in his mind, he trains and can thus play, he trains so he is always ready if needed.
He said to himself as the belief is strong as ever: There is a big day waiting for me. I know there is, ever since I started playing.作者: Sancruz 时间: 2007-12-8 01:38:51
IX
November 30th, Year MMIII
Stadio delle Alpi
"Julio!" Zac suddenly rose like a tower from the bench. "I have nothing to say. Just go and fight like a man! For me and for the sake of your name!"
Unexpected silence for Julio.
All the sorrow? Forget about it!
All the pain? Forget about it!
Hobgoblin nor foul fiend, can daunt his spirit.
After labouring night and day,
It is Time for the Pilgrimage!
Julio back on the pitch after the bad days. Yes, without a doubt.
Facing Juventus. Facing billions of football fans around the globe.
Blue or white,
Happiness or sadness,
Hero or zero,
Stand up straight or lie on the floor aching.
A hundred years of close encounters and the ever-growing list of vendetta. It must all come to an end.
This is not just a football game.
This is creating a piece of history!
It's not part of life, it's larger than life!
Yes, yes, yes. IT IS DERBY D' ITALIA!
Free kick to Inter.
Place the ball on the spot, walk back a few metres and pray.
Julio ran, his boot touching the ball. There came the ball howling in the wind towards goal.
Speed + Power + Curve + Angle: Never better!
Buffon went down in disgust and disbelief. GOAL!
Inter 1, Juventus 0!
The graceful Old Lady instantly became somewhat a paranoid Wife of Frankenstein!
Attacking! Attacking! Wave of offense one after another for the Bianconeri.
Camoranesi, the product of Argentinian creativity and Italian passion; Nedved, the Iron Man; Del Piero, the golden boy; Trezeguet, an ISO 9000 quality guarantee for finishing.
Those names adding up could bring an adult Martian to tears.
Their power made up the endless waves of hatred!
Along the pitch, Zac really wished that he had chosen priest as his profession to make God closer to his prayers; and Lippi suddenly found millions of nails growing from his seat in the technical area. Can't bear to sit!
No bullshitfromation as 442 or 343 on the pitch, just offense and defense, just swapping control over the ball, just tackling endlessly, just attacking or defending all over the place. It is a game no more, but a fight, two gladiators fighting for the right to live! Do or die!
And yet the ball came through, Julio started running towards the deadly region. Grabbing and pulling of his shirt. Tens of opponents' legs on his way to glory.
He saw the ball coming. Buffon's fist approaching. Legrottaglie's arm just in front. Julio stretched his legs. In a split-second, seemingly he made a touch of the ball.
His head was punched by the fist. On the ground he went, full of sweat and dirt across his face.
He couldn't dare to get up, nor raise his head. He feared failure. That was his full strength. The strike with full throttle and all that he got. He feared failure so so much!
Time stopped at that very moment. All quiet in the pitch and in front of millions of television sets.
Until roars broke the silence, until ear-shattering roars heard from the Nerazzurri supporters on the North Stand! Goal! Goal! Goal! Two- Nil! Two- Nothing! 2:0!
Only once, only that time in Julio's career- yes, of the one-hundred-and-thirtiesh goals he scored- had he not kneeled on the ground with one knee, had he not placed the invisible arrow on his bow and fired at his invisible enemy as a celebration.
Utter nothingness on his face. Utter nothingness in his eyes. Utter nothingness in his mind.
Who knew how much effort he's had to keep himself on from every single match he played?
Who understood how much he's been through just the few months since joining Inter?
Who cared about the many months that he waited and waited for his Godot that never came?
Who even gave a damn about his resolutions, his objectives, his ambitions, or his dreams?
He ran to the away stand, just looking at his supporters, just stood there looking, with tears falling like rain.
"Grande Julio! Grande Cruz! Grande Julio! Grande Cruz!"
Just men's roars heard, just women's screams heard.
Just as the old poem goes: Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned.
It is truly his Julio moment.
A Julio moment without the celebration people used to see!
A Julio moment that is hidden in the soul of every single man!
"That is the very moment of my life that made everyone else envious." Repeatedly said the famous journalist Altobecci of Tuttosport even years later." You know, on that day, there were more than 900 journalists all queuing up, wanting to talk to Julio. But only I was with him."
"Yet it was the worst moment in my whole career. I was so astonished by what I saw that I absolutely forgot my responsibility of interviewing.
You know what? That 6-foot Player of the Match couldn't help but was totally drowning in tears throughout the night, and he couldn't even manage to finish a single sentence of speech. All I could barely recognise was a few words like 'my whole life', 'achievement' and 'no regret'.
And, there was a simple phrase, which he repeated at least a dozen times.
That was nothing but 'My Big Day'. "作者: 流水落花 时间: 2007-12-8 08:57:25
