darrus (darrus) wrote,

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Camel - English


Author: darrus
Pairing: Matthaeus/Klinsmann
Rating: PG
Time: 17.12.1989
Disclaimer: Not true

Summary: Missing scene to "Amore Italiano". Morning before Fiorentina-Inter match

Florence. Morning


Harsh loud knocking makes him start.

He lifts his head, trying to remember in this first waking moment where he is. Another hotel in another town, and all these hotel rooms look the same, and this goes on and on for more than ten years already. In his dream there were golden Christmas balls, and snow, and laughter, and something else…

It is still drizzling outside, the sky is covered with dirty-grey clouds – the same disgusting weather as yesterday.


Last match before the Christmas holidays.

The knocking repeats, even more loudly, making him wince.

- I hear! – The footsteps move away from his door, and only then he realizes that his answer was in German.

He wants to lie down again, cover himself with a blanket and go back to sleep. Trapattoni won’t put him in reserve even if he misses the training, he is too important for the team, and these rebellious thoughts overcome the reason for a second. He makes himself stand up. Cold shower doesn’t help to wake up, he shaves, not looking at the mirror. Thoughts are circling around the approaching game, and he understands that he doesn’t remember a word from what the coach said about the tactics. Maybe Giovanni will repeat everything again.

The button on his shirt is missing. He throws it in his bag without even attempting to fold it. Voices are heard from the corridor, someone is laughing, someone is still able to laugh at this time of year, and he feels himself like a sleepy fly, but he still needs to shake himself and play this one more match, and then there will be time to rest…

He opens the door. Some players are standing in the corridor already, he answers their greetings, trying to smile. Jürgen runs up to him.

- Wait. I forgot my jacket in your room yesterday.

He steps aside and Jürgen bends down, taking the jacket off the floor and putting it on. The cloth is still wet but Jürgen doesn’t seem to care.

- And under which circumstances could you have forgotten this thing in your teammate’s room? – Asks Aldo Serena, who is standing nearby. Another door opens and Andy emerges, his hear disheveled – it seems that he forgot to look in the mirror.

- Oh, you can’t even imagine, Aldo, what two Germans can do together at night in a hotel room, - smiles Jürgen. Others burst into laughter, many versions are voiced, the most popular one is “drinking beer”.

- So? – Demands Nicola Berti.

- Ask Lothar, - laughs Jürgen.

- Lothar?

- Ask Jürgen, - shoots he back as always, but this usual banter – Germans versus Italians – doesn’t amuse him today. He just wants to sleep.

- Jürgen?

- Ask Lothar, - and Jürgen is in a good mood as always.

- Lothar?

- Ask Jürgen, - maybe his smile looks unnatural, but who cares.

- Lothar and Jürgen, answer the question! – Finds a solution Aldo.

Jürgen winks at him, and they answer in unison.

- Ask Andy.

- What Andy? I was asleep last night, I don’t know anything, - smiles Brehme. Since Jürgen joined them in the team it became much easier to fight off such teasing.

Everyone laughs again, Aldo knocks at another door and is answered with something like “Coming already”. He zippers his club jacket up to the chin. Maybe he has to tell doctors that he always feels cold, he is ill probably…

- Didn’t sleep well? – Jürgen’s voice is barely audible.

He lifts his head.

- Just the weather, - and realizes that it was too loud. Giuseppe Bergomi puts his hands on his hips and looks at him with indignant expression.

- What do you have against our fine Italian weather?

Why can’t they leave him alone? He can’t shake himself enough even to answer the teasing, not to speak about participating in the bantering. Is he the only one who is feeling himself so tired?

- Your fine weather gives me a fine migraine, - shoots back Andy, making everyone laugh again.

- Better tell me, where did you hide our goalkeeper? – Attacks Jürgen.

- Two goalkeepers, - smiles Andy.

- Ah, yes, goalkeepers, - Nicola runs to the other end of the corridor and begins knocking at the doors.

- Dear Jürgen, - starts Aldo in a serious voice, - in order to answer to your question, I will have to remind you about the most illustrious pages in the history of our great club, - Giuseppe presses his hands to his mouth, trying to hold back the laughter, - and explain you the tiniest of nuances in the relationship between field players and the best representatives of the great and fine art of goalkeeping…

- They’re just unable to get ready in time, that’s all, - Alberto Rivolta is the first who loses it.

- Now they’re unable to get ready in time, and we have to stand here and wait instead of sleeping, and the training under this rain won’t do any good anyway, we’ll just get wet and all.

- Look, Lothar has woken up! – Laughs someone. Walter Zenga joins them, baseball cap in his hands.

- Horrible weather. Tomorrow I’m going to Bali, and try to stop me someone.

They start in the direction of the staircase. Jürgen walks close to Bergomi, telling him something.

- And I think holidays in Milan will be perfect, - shrugs Aldo.

- No way. I’m going to Austria, and we will be skiing. And if someone says something about broken legs, you’ll face my wreath!

- Jürgen, and where are you going? – Asks Walter.

- Home.

Jürgen says it quietly, with such soft, peaceful smile, and turns back to Giuseppe, continuing the conversation.

- And you, Lothar? – Interrogation continues.

- Don’t know, ask Andy, he always knows what he is going to do.

- Andy?

- And this time I don’t know. Jürgen, sit with us in the bus?

Jürgen turns to them again.

- No, I wanted to talk with Corrado.

- About what?

- What do you mean about what? He’ll be talking with coaches about Renaissance and Firenze, what else can they talk about? – Laughs Giuseppe, patting Jürgen’s shoulder lightly. Jürgen nods, a little embarrassed, looking at smiling Italians.

He tries to make himself wake up before others start to ask what’s the matter with him. Maybe he really is ill, but he doesn’t want to miss the match. The drumming of rain on the windows gets on his nerves. He quickens his pace, starts talking to Aldo about some nonsense. Italian verbs just won’t conjugate correctly today, he is speaking slower than usually, but it seems that for everyone else everything looks normal. If only he could get warm somehow…



Tags: camel english
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