Off The Pitch: Best Friends Forever

August 25th, 2008 | by: Brooks Peck |

It was recently reported that Jozy Altidore and new Villareal teammate Giuseppe Rossi have become “inseparable friends” since Altidore joined the Spanish club earlier this summer. The following is a fictional conversation between the rising American star and the only Italian national from North Jersey.

Jozy and Guiseppe sit in the Villareal locker room playing poker. Rossi pulls the last of Jozy’s stack of Euros into the giant pile in front of him.

Jozy: You win again! This sure is fun, Guiseppe.

Rossi: Friggin’ A it is…I’m glad yous are here, Jozy. I was gettin’ sick a these Spanish fanocchios tawlkin’ their jibberish language at me.

Jozy: Yeah, it’s always nice to have someone to talk to when you’re in a foreign land! So how was your Olympic experience, man? You led the tournament in goals! That’s pretty awesome!

Rossi: Friggin’ Belgium. Waffle eatin’ bastids.

Jozy: Yeah, well, we didn’t fare so well, either. But we’ll get ‘em next time!

Rossi: Hey, Joze, I just had an idea. Ya know, we’re havin’ so much fun here – the gamblin’, the hookers, the Jagerbombs, and you watchin’ me do all a dat – ya know, yous should come play for Itly with me.

Jozy: (laughs) I like you too, Guiseppe, but I’ve already been capped by the U.S. Plus all my friends back home would sure be disappointed…hey! What if you came to play for the U.S.? Then we can be together forever!

Rossi: Uh, what if — no.

Jozy: What? I mean, you even grew up in America, man – Clifton, NJ, that’s like 10 minutes from my house.

Rossi: The hell you tawlkin’ about? My parents are from Itly. I’m Itayin. Bada-bing bada-boom. Don’t forget the cannoli.

Jozy: But you were born in the U.S. You grew up there. I mean, my parents are from Haiti, but I was born and raised in America so I’m an American.

Adriana La Cerva enters the locker room holding a dead lapdog.

Adriana: (crying) Guiseppe, what did you do to my dawg?

Rossi: I was asleep on the couch and it musta crawled under my leg for warmth – get outta here, Ade! I told you never to come down here!

Adriana: I hate you, Guissepe! The wedding’s awf!

Rossi: (dismissively) Go cry ta your mutha.

Adriana stomps her foot, turns to leave.

Rossi: Anyway, Jozy…come play for Itly.

Jozy: (shaken by the outburst) But I’m not even Italian, man!

Rossi: It don’t matter. I know some guys who can take care a dat. Get yous set up with a passport, new name, a nice shylock business, anything yous need.

Jozy: I don’t know, Guiseppe. You’re my friend and all, but I just can’t do that. I mean, I know Italy are the World Cup champions and have a much more prestigious record than the U.S., but I’m looking forward to helping develop our program and maybe, one day, being known as the best American soccer player ever – I mean is that even possible in Italy anymore? There’s so much competition for a spot in the team, you have one bad game and the entire country hates you and you’re losing your place to an 86-year-old Pippo Inzaghi. Nah, I’m staying with the U.S., man.

Rossi: Alright, alright, whateva.

Jozy: So what do you want to do now?

Rossi: (thinks…) Jagerbombs!