Chapter 2 2. The fun of hunting

Outside of football, hunting was a childhood hobby of mine.I hunt to be with my father.I love my dad, and my dad loves to hunt, and I feel like I spend so little time with my dad. When I was 5 years old, I discovered a shortcut to being close to my father: feeding his hunting lead.This is hard work, the bird food must be suitable, the cage must be clean, and the bird must not be sick or wormy.First we need to get rid of the wild nature of the birds and raise them; then train them to sing.Birds are always silent in unfamiliar and noisy environments. Let them gradually get used to the noise and the shed used for hunting.

In the summer, we move the birds deep in the basement so that they will think of summer as winter and the coming fall as spring.When fall came, we drove to our hunting locations, hung the cages in the trees, and the birds sang like a record player. Every hunt is like a holiday.The adults get up at one o'clock in the morning to prepare everything for hunting.My father usually wakes me up at 2:30, but sometimes I don't sleep at all, I'm afraid my father won't take me there.It is very cold in the early morning of autumn, and my father often hesitates whether it is wise to take his 5-year-old son to hunt, but if he leaves me at home, I will make a big fuss, and my father only asks me to wear a few more pairs of socks, which are too thick to fit shoes .

We usually drive 200 kilometers on weekends and go hunting in the Friuli region for two days.Our little expeditionary force carried 60 to 70 birdcages, as well as shotguns, food, huts, etc.Before dawn, we arrived at the hunting location, there were many stars in the sky, and the wind was biting. When I went hunting for the first time, I couldn't see anything around me, and I was shaking with cold and fear.My father said to me, "Robbie, don't be afraid, follow me, go fast." My task was to find prey in the grass under the tree after my father and his friends shot.I always hold the prey tightly in my hand, and then proudly hand it over to my father, as if it is my credit.

At dawn we have breakfast: bread and cheese or sausage.I remember my father always drinking some wine and letting me taste it sometimes.While eating, I counted the number of prey for the 100th time, and then fell asleep on the blanket, and the sound of hunting guns could only open one eye. We never hunt in one place, every time it's a new place, every time it's like a show. I started hunting to be with my dad, my family, and it became a hobby.Hemingway said hunting was a way of developing an intimate, personal relationship with life.I agree with this statement.With creatures, you live among them, observe them, understand them, and sometimes kill them.When you hunt, you are out of the world, out of time, and you are carried away.Hunting cultivates your patience, sometimes a prey will make you wait for a whole day.I forget about pain and fatigue when I hunt because I enjoy it.

When I was in the Caldogno Children's team, hunting caused me to have an argument with the first coach Zenere.In 1979, I scored 42 goals and assisted 20 goals, "the hope of the hope".One weekend, I went hunting with my father as usual and did not participate in Saturday's training.Zenere is the town baker and has played in the D-team in the past.As soon as he saw me on Tuesday he said, "Ha, see you again, hunter fisherman, welcome back." How can he call me a hunter fisherman?I turned around and left in a fit of anger.If I say I have a lot of self-esteem today, it was even stronger then. Four days later, there was an important game. Three teammates came to my home to persuade me to play. I replied, "No." After several hours of persuasion, I agreed to participate.

Before the game, the team president, the town plumber, said to me: "Look how you're doing today, hunter fisherman." I scored five goals in the first half.At half-time I went up to him and said: "Is that enough? Or do you want another goal?" I scored another goal in the second half and the game ended 7-0. From the age of 10, I had to stop hunting because of the game and because I was afraid of being called "hunter fisherman" again. Ten years later, I couldn't stand the temptation of wild ducks in Florence, and picked up the shotgun again.