I state: I never knew how to play basketball. The first time I got the ball, in the gymnasium of the scientific high school, I was so excited (they never gave it to me) that I ran to the opponent’s board and made a basket.
Then I turned exultantly, noticing however that the others looked at me strange, while the prof. Polastri slyly said: “Nice, but you should have dribbled.” Yet, that sport that I did not understand intrigued me: I remained a fan, learning a little the jargon, the tricks, especially knowing the protagonists, with many of whom I shared the age: mid-50s generation, that of gold for Alexandrian basketball.
Oscar Ravazzi was an unforgettable character in the years in which we went to the stadium to support the grays who were trying to get to B and then to the Palasport to applaud the Vibac who tried the same jump, but in A2. He succeeded in the end, but then he disappointed everyone because he became Superga and moved to Mestre. Ernesto Cima played it, not Oscar, sacrificed by Mr. Mangano (who later repented). Two parallel destinies: both basketball players, both architects, both leaving the world too soon.
Different characters: both Cima was cold, and Ravazzi was impetuous, deserving for his determination the slogan with which the supporters accompanied his entries on the field: “Oscar sbranali!”.
That boy who grew up quickly, with his thick shortsighted glasses and a controversial voice, brought on the parquet a desire to win capable of challenging entire sports halls. Soon after, however, he became a big man, kind and generous. It is in the Palasport named after Cima that the city will greet him tomorrow 20 December at 11: it would be nice if something were named after him too, I know a PalaRavazzi where today there is the PalaConi at the school field.