The day starts off with a parade around the different plazas throughout the city with around 100 or so men dressed up in medieval costumes, holding flags and guns, marching to the beat of the drums. We got the most pleasant wake up call at about 8am of the drum parade making its way around the city. This event happens once a year and we were lucky enough to be apart of its festivities for the day. The festival is in the honor of St. John, the patron saint of the city. The event is called “Calcio Storico Fiorentino,” or “Historical soccer from Florence,” originated in Florence around 1200-1300 AD. It served as a competition for many of the nobleman in the area at the time and it was seen as ok because violence and death were accepted back then. The fighting that goes on during these games can date back to when the Gladiators fought during Roman times. The players and the men in the parade wore clothes that represented what was worn in the 15th century. In an article I read about the annual event, even popes such as Clement VII, Leo XI and Urban VIII are said to have enjoyed the bloody game. However, in the last few years, the game has been seen as too violent because of the fights that have broke out in the middle of the game and was actually banned for the entire year of 2007 as punishment for their “unacceptable behavior.” My friends and I sat down and waited for all of the members of the parade to line up on the field and then it was time for the two rugby teams to enter the arena. The crowd was going wild and I was having a hard time just taking it all in. There I was sitting in front of one of the most beautiful churches I have ever seen and I was about to watch big hefty men tear each other to shreds for possession of the ball and trying to win for their “side” of he city. Wearing blue meant you were from one side of the river and wearing white meant you were from the opposite side of the river. The parades of medieval men were summoned off the field and it was time to begin the match. There were 27 muscled and shirtless players on the field from each team and I knew from that point on I was in for a real surprise. The whistle was blown and I was shocked at all the hitting, punching, tackling that went on in the first minute of the game. I was seriously in my own little world trying to keep up with what was going on. The ball was being tossed from player to player but then that player would get pounded into the ground and the next player, white or blue would pick up the ball and run. Men from opposing teams were tackling and fighting all over the field while referees were trying to break up the major punch throwing also going on. A couple of times during the match, a stretcher made its way onto the field, but no one on the field even noticed. The game continued on as a member of the white team was carried off the field in agony. The gruesome game went on for about 50 minutes and by the time it was over I had to sit down for a good 10 minutes and take in what I had just witnessed. Nothing like that would ever be played in the United States. The event was more than just a game and some hitting; it was a major symbol for
Italy and city of Florence and the specific neighborhoods playing in the match. The blue team ended up dominating the white team and I even saw one of the blue team members crying to one of his buddies. I was in awe that a man of his size was getting emotional over something like this, but it just made me realize how much nationalism and pride went into this one game. People from Florence and even people from all over Italy take pride in this event and have for centuries.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Rugby gone Wild
(Map of where the Piazza di Santa Croce is located)
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