Categoria: sport

• Is this real – part 1

  Here’s the deal: basketball might be one of my top all favorite sport. It is fast paced, entertaining and full of actions.

  In 2014, my local team got promoted to the big league, and I remember it like it was yesterday. For the first time, I had a hometown basketball team to support. No more researching distant teams, trying to find one to get behind—I finally had my team. Over the next four years, I followed them religiously, and by 2018, I was riding every high and low of the championship with them. Those seasons were a whirlwind of emotions: reaching the finals, falling short against powerhouse teams, and still coming back stronger. Every loss only made me more invested. Every win felt like a personal victory.

  Fast forward to today, and here we are—contenders for the first title of the season! The excitement is through the roof. But if I’m being completely honest, I’ve kept my distance.

  At the start of the regular season, in what seemed like a miraculous streak, my team didn’t lose a single game for two months. After not attending the home opener, I was eager to go and experience the energy firsthand. But as the weeks passed and I finally felt ready to jump in the car and head to the arena, a familiar and nagging thought crept in: What if they lose?

  Superstition took over. I decided not to risk it. I have avoided watching a single game in this tournament, and I won’t start now—not even today, not with everything on the line. That is the rule. I won’t wear the colors, I won’t put on a shirt (I don’t even own one yet—it’s on the list), and I definitely won’t break the pattern now.

  As the final notification buzzed on my phone, an overwhelming mix of happiness and elation washed over me. Dolomiti Energia Trento clinched their first-ever Coppa Italia title, defeating the formidable EA7 Emporio Armani Milano with a decisive 79-63 victory.

  What were the odds?

  At the beginning of the regular season, the winning streaks was unreal to believe. It started with a progression of teams that I thought were reasonably beatable; it was not until november 3rd that probably against all odds made us fan believe that this season was about to be the most grateful and satisfying. That game was – you guessed it – EA7 Emporio Armani Milano. That day, winning by over 30 points too, changed the whole regular season trajectory.

  I always believe in my team’s success until the final buzzer, but that victory was a turning point. Could this team continue winning and achieve even greater success?

  Reflecting on my earlier superstitions, I can’t help but smile. Perhaps my decision to keep my distance, driven by a blend of hope and fear, played its own small part in this historic triumph. Superstitions aside, witnessing my hometown team rise to such prominence fills me with immense pride. This victory isn’t just a testament to the players’ dedication and hard work; it’s a monumental moment for our entire community.

  As I look forward, I realize it’s time to fully embrace this journey. The first step? Finally getting that team shirt that’s been on my list for so long!

  from the sideline

  Carola Pedrinolla

  Feb 17, 2025

  personal, sport, Uncategorized

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• superstitions or little stitius?

  One experience that completely altered my brain chemistry was being an exchange student in the U.S. As a passionate sports fan, I felt like I had landed in the ultimate playground. I thought I understood fandom—after all, I lived and breathed sports—but I quickly realized I had only scratched the surface.

  In Nebraska, I didn’t just watch the games; I became part of the team. The structure was simple yet powerful: wear red—preferably a Huskers shirt—and gather to watch the game. It wasn’t just about supporting a team; it was about belonging to something bigger. It was about being part of a family, one that cheered together, suffered together, and carried the weight of every win and loss as if we had played the game ourselves.

  Back home, I had always been meticulous about game days. I sat in the same spot, ate the same meal in the same order, and followed a set routine, believing in the ritualistic power of sports. But that year in the U.S. reinforced something even deeper: the act of wearing the team’s colors wasn’t just about superstition—it was about unity. In basketball, you became the sixth player; in soccer, the twelfth. Wins felt sweeter, losses more bearable.

  For the first time, my passion and my superstitions weren’t seen as something odd or obsessive. No one joked about my routines or questioned why I cared so much. Instead, they understood—because they felt the same way. There, being too invested in sports wasn’t a weakness; it was a shared language, a badge of honor.

  Plus, something strange happened. Every time I wore the shirt, they won. Coincidence? Maybe. But for a sports fan wired like me, it became law. I held onto that belief like it was part of the playbook. When I returned home, I kept wearing the color instead of the official shirt—but the outcome changed. If they won, I’d wear it again. If they lost, it was banished from my game-day routine. The same superstition that once kept the ritual alive now dictated its every move.

  That year, I made one (big) mistake—I forgot to buy the shirt. When I returned home, and for the decade that followed, I compensated the only way I knew how: by wearing the color. Even without the official emblem, it became a symbol of connection, a quiet way of saying, I’m still part of this.

  But beyond the rituals, the passion, and the community, that year also sparked something else in me—something I overlooked. Being immersed in a place where sports were more than just entertainment, where they shaped identities and built lifelong connections, made me realize that this was much more than a hobby.

  This is why, no matter where I am, you’ll always find me wearing the shirt. Because it is always, somehow game day. It is never just fabric. It is belonging. It’s home.

  And when the game is on, I know exactly where I stand—shoulders to shoulders with my team, even from miles away. 

  from the sideline

  Carola Pedrinolla

  Feb 15, 2025

  sport

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