From the Sunday Telegraph by Paul Ackford http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/ru...-one-of-the-worlds-best-tight-head-props.html
Nice insight. You'd hope another nail in Paddy's coffin, but don't hold your breath
Martin Castrogiovanni stays true to his calling as one of the world's best tight-head props
We are on the subject of downtime, because when Martin Castrogiovanni clocks off from his day job as Leicester's tight-head prop, the last thing he thinks about is rugby.
Doesn't watch it, doesn't read about it, it doesn't even appear as a vague blur on his horizon. Timo, his Italian restaurant, which he bought with two partners when a combination of groin and shoulder problems sidelined him for seven months a couple of years back, keeps him occupied, as will a second Timo soon to open in Market Harborough. But that's about it.
No other interests? I inquire. Hobbies, wife, kids, other sports? "I have a dog," he says deadpan. "I call him 'Fatty'. I stay with him." My incredulity obviously registers because he says, quickly, "What's wrong with that? Why can't I call my dog fat? He's a British bulldog, and, no, he's not fat, but people called me fat once so I wanted to call my dog Fatty. He loves it. He comes when I call his name. People ask me all the time, 'Why do you call a dog Fatty?' I didn't ask to be called Martin, but my parents called me Martin."
It is tempting to make much of this bizarre exchange.
Fatty: a sideways dig at the demise of scrummaging perhaps. "When I started my career, the culture was that if you were fat and big you played prop. Now, you need to be as fit as any other player because it's not just about the scrum, it's about running. But that's not necessarily good because average props can get by. These days the scrum isn't considered as important in the context of the match. You might only get six or seven scrums a game and that has helped a lot of mediocre props."
Or, Fatty: a reference point for Castrogiovanni himself, a reminder of his move from Calvisano to Leicester in 2006 and the improvements he had to make in attitude, fitness and skill levels to fit in, a transition so successful that he was voted the Premiership's Player of the Year in his debut season. "I remember that because I didn't expect it. There I was, a big prop, a fat bastard, and recognised as one of the best in the league."
Or, Fatty: simply an example of Castrogiovanni's mischievous nature. "My idol was Mauricio Reggiardo, the Argentine prop. He was a little bit like me: long hair, big guy, stupid off the field, making fun of things all the time. I played against him and I wanted to be like him."
Whatever. What is not up for debate is Castrogiovanni's passion for the game which has taken him from Argentina via Italy, courtesy of his Sicilian grandfather, to the Midlands. "I left my family and mates in Argentina when I was 20. It was a big change for me, but I wanted to follow my dream and play rugby. Now when I play, I do so for the honour of my family back home, for my mother and my father. I try to be the best I can, so they can say, 'This is my son', and feel proud about it."
For me, that's the guts of Castrogiovanni's appeal. There is no doubt he is a born showman. You need a big personality just to carry off that huge mop of hair, and few props celebrate tries with as much aplomb, but underpinning all of that is a self-evident desire to embrace warmly whatever is on offer. The pictures section of his restaurant's website is full of images of Castrogiovanni socialising with punters, and I asked him if he ever did any proper work there. "I go after games, and if someone during the week says, 'It's my son's birthday, can Castro be there?' I will go then too," he said. "Apart from that, no."
He's selling himself short here. Those who followed Leicester to Treviso last weekend, where Castrogiovanni picked up the man-of-the-match award, talk admiringly of the trouble and time he took to sign every last autograph, an obligation he takes seriously. "I always remember when I was young and wanted to ask for an autograph from someone. If he didn't look at me, or ignored me and walked away, I would feel really bad. So what I try to do is to be as nice as possible with lots of people. Young people may have the dream to be like me, and if they want an autograph I will give them one."
That sense of decency is one reason why Castrogiovanni is held in such affection by the Tigers' supporters. The other is that at 28, in his fifth season with Leicester and with 68 Italian caps to his name, he is a highly accomplished tight-head prop.
That journey to distinction, though, has not been trouble-free. In November 2009 Castrogiovanni was part of an Italian scrum which destroyed an All Black eight at Milan's San Siro stadium. Castrogiovanni's opposite number that day, Wyatt Crockett, has not featured for New Zealand since. After the game, Paddy O'Brien, the International Rugby Board's top referee, reacting to the fact that most of the scrums in that match were a hopeless mess, named and shamed Castrogiovanni, accusing him of cheating.
"After O'Brien said that, I was the most penalised player in the Six Nations tournament which followed, because the boss of the referees had singled me out. Even when it wasn't my fault refs would penalise me. Paddy O'Brien came to me the following November and apologised. He said, 'Castro, sorry, I made a mistake.'"
Castrogiovanni recounts the story not to pillory O'Brien but to demonstrate the disconnect between what actually happens at scrum-time and how officials interpret what they see. "Referees need to understand the culture of the scrum because at the moment a weaker scrum can survive by kidding the referee. A lot of international loosehead props - I don't want to say their names - put their hands on the floor for support. For them that's normal, but it's not normal. I have to bind and so does the guy I'm against. Referees need to focus on the whole scrum and sit down with some old props who are legends of the game and be told what is going on."
There is obviously an element of self-interest here. When Leicester face Llanelli at Welford Road this afternoon in the second round of the Heineken Cup, Castrogiovanni and his mates will hope that their scrummaging power will fatigue the free-running Scarlets who scored four tries in their opening fixture against Perpignan, but there's nothing wrong with that. At its best rugby has always been an activity in which power and pace, structure and improvisation contend for supremacy, which is why it is important to keep faith with one of the sport's defining elements.
"I'd give refs three bits of advice," Castrogiovanni offers. "First, the timing of crouch, touch, pause and engage needs to be the same across the world, and it's not. Next, it is important to ensure that the gap between the two front rows is consistent. Finally, referees need to be clear which scrum is genuinely going forward and which is cheating by walking around. Get those right and you will have a good scrum."
Wise words, and worth remembering when you next hear a long-haired bloke shouting "Fatty? Fatty?" near an Italian restaurant. He's not a pepperoni short of a pizza, just a very fine international prop with a weird take on dog names.
Nice insight. You'd hope another nail in Paddy's coffin, but don't hold your breath
