Alessandro Rosina Feels The Love

By: chris | August 3rd, 2009

Roughly two years ago, Alessandro Rosina was all the rage on the peninsula. His dribbling, running, tenacity, circus midget size and male-pattern baldness endeared him to men, women and children alike. His nickname, Rosinaldo, was both self-explanatory and deserved. Any team would’ve been chuffed to bits to have him. The lone star on a once-great team which had few reasons for optimism in its stable, shone brightly across the Italian sky.

And then…he just wasn’t. Two years later, Torino went down and Rosinaldo went up – for sale, that is. Italian teams poked and prodded, but no one cared enough to buy. So he’s been sent to Russia, to Zenit, where the coach greeted him with a presser waxing on his disappointment in Alessandro’s arrival. Must be nice to be loved.

Dick “Lame Duck” Advocaat on the acquisition of Alessandro Rosina:

“I’m very disappointed,” the coach told reporters.

“I told the club we need two or three top class strikers but instead they bring in Rosina. I really don’t know what to do anymore as I’ve never had to deal with a situation when a player is being brought to the club against my wishes.”

…and this mere days before the studly Pavel Pogrebnyak was sold off to Stuttgart to replace Mario Gomez.

Dick’s got a point, and yet he doesn’t. Coaches, particularly one with the CV of Advocaat, should have some say in who is dumped into their locker room. It’s really the only way to build a winning squad.

However, Mr. I Did It For The Money is leaving his Zenit post promptly at the end of the season – less than four months from now – to take the one atop the Belgium national team. So he’s as lame as lame ducks get, while Alessandro will be in St. Petersburg for the next four years – or at least that’s what his contract says.

So how do you think the first meeting between Alessandro and Dick went? Awkward man hug? Eyes to the floor, mumbled greetings? Or maybe, mired in an abyss of depression after the loss of Pogrebnyak, he’ll size up Alessandro upon arrival and, like an empty arm at last call, will say “fuck it, you’ll do”. Cheap love, but it’ll have to suffice these days.