Salvete omnes, and welcome to the Circus Maximus! This is Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus, momentarily stepping out of the quiet environment of my nicely furnished Censor’s office (and leaving the open-mouthed people in my Censorial staff asking each other: “Where’d he go?!?”) for the…well, a little blood and a little tears, but mostly the sweat & dust of the racetrack, to offer you a short report of this exciting, just-finished First Quarterfinal race. After all, I do know about this entire atmosphere all too well, having managed no less than six tournaments and having run as a pilot… ahem, a charioteer… in no less than four races!! Anyway, enough with the talking and let’s go straight to the chronicle. Lentule, you up there in the video director’s booth, you may roll the tape!

Okay, the first thing that hits your eyes is that this racing event for this year’s Ludi Apollinares is NOT going to be quadrichromatic as usual, but stricly bichromatic... as Russata and Veneta are the only teams who subscribed their chariots and drivers, and indeed the bleachers are a veritable triumph of reds and blues. From left to right on your screen, you can see the line-up for this 1^st Quarterfinal: on lane I we have Potentia, owned by our Consul M. Pompeius Caninus and driven by Atrectus, a brewer from Vindolandia, who offsets his average height (168 cm) with an imposing muscular mass. He’s also got long brown hair and blue eyes… which definitely isn’t a minus for all the matronæ sitting in here, whose screams I hope you can hear! On Lane II, here comes Fulmen Punicum, owned by C. Tullius Valerianus Germanicus and driven by Hanno Pœnulus – both he and Atrectus race for Veneta, the Blues. But the other half of the racetrack is a whole other color, as we have two Russata chariots in lane III and IV! On lane III, we have Ulpia Prima, owned by C. Æmilius Crassus and driven by Viriathus, who, I’m told, is a small but well-built man born in Lusitania in the city of Olisipo. He has been running in several races in Hispania and occasionally in some Ludi in Nova Roma. His preferred tactic is hurrying in the straight lines rather than trying to push the other chariots to the walls, but if pushed he will try to get even… to the point of almost forgetting the race itself! Ending the line-up in lane IV, we have a chariot named Nova Roma in honor of our Republic and owned by Cn. Cornelius Lentulus… hey, Lentule up there, that’s your young ’un! But I guess you already know that, do you? [Noise coming from Placidus’ left ear.] What? [He puts hs hand over the earphone in his left ear.] Yes, I know that you’ve told him M times not to waste his money on silly chariot races… but you can’t blame him, he’s young! [Incomprehensible voice from earphone.] No, he’s not young and stup… anyway, the driver on his chariot is a woman!!... a lovely-looking, blond- haired female driver called Dorothea… I think the males on the bleachers have something for THEIR eyes as well, don’t they?

The man you see standing proudly on the red starter’s podium is Prætor Sextus Lucilius Tutor, and the guy behind him is his assistant for regularity – his colleague Aulus Liburnus Hadrianus. I have the pleasure and the honor of calling both of them my friends. Lucilius has got the nappa in his hands… he is about to drop it… he does… and off they go!

LAP I

Dorothea on Nova Roma (or NR for short) starts off quite briskly and places herself before the other. She may be blonde and beautiful, but she’s also fierce… just see how she lashes her horses! Here comes the straight line, Viriathus on Ulpia Prima gets nearer… and nearer… and I can’t hear him, but I can definitely SEE him whistling to her!! I can also see that she’s not at all happy, and indeed she speeds up and overtakes him. The two Blue guys seem to lag behind for now, but it’s only the first lap, and the race is still on…

LAP II

Dorothea and NR are still keeping a solid lead, but the group behind them has, ahem, grouped up a bit more! Atrectus and Pœnulus have caught up, and although they belong to the same team, I can see them exchanging undecipherable but, I imagine, quite nasty insults. Atrectus on Potentia is getting quite dangerously close to the spina every time he turns around it, and I’m starting to get a huge concern that he’s going to crash sooner or later… I just hope he doesn’t.

LAP III

Hey, what’s happening out there between the guys in second and third place respectively? Let me see… well, Pœnulus is accelerating more and more, and apparently not watching where he’s headed… and the inevitable happens. BANG!! The right side of Fulmen Punicum just gave a mighty hit to the left side of Ulpia Prima… to the point that Viriathus almost jumped in the air. Well, knowing the man, he’s not the kind of guy who lets anyone get away with anything… and indeed here comes a huge counterpush from Ulpia Prima to the rival!! Unfortunately for Viriathus, though, his daring behavior has backfired… he made a sharpt left steer whed he was supposed to go straight, and he slipped back in third place, leaving the more-or-less unscathed Pœnulus to resume his pursuit of Dorothea…

LAP IV

Fourth dolphin goes down, the chariots prepare themselves for another perilous bend around that nasty spina… Potentia is about to pass them all by using its driver’s very rewarding but also very dangerous techique of “hugging the spina”… and…OH, NO!! Such a big crash just happened, that I guess you folks out there in front of your screens may have heard it even if you actually didn’t!! What a shame for our Consul… the left wheel of Potentia is barely hinged on its axis and I wonder whether he’s going to make it. In the meantime, furious Dorothea, her blond hair blowing  backwards as if caught by a tornado, has been strenghtening the lead she kept all the way through, and indeed she crosses the finish line first! Red explodes on the bleachers!! Closely following her are Fulmen Punicum, second, who does make the Semifinal, and the beaten Viriathus, third… I can still see them exchanging insults. And luckily for Potentia and the Consul, Atrectus does make it to the finish line… although his left wheel comes unhinged right on the line itself, sending poor Atrectus on the groud among the audience’s boo-boos… come on, Atrectus, go enjoy a pint of your excellent cervisia. You’ll do better next time!

OK, it’s now a quarter to five PM in the Circus and this is all for now from your improvised reporter... who’s goint to run back to the Censura immediately, otherwise they’re going to kill him! So this is Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus signing off… and don’t forget to tune in again here this evening for the Second Quarterfinal!

Salvete omnes, optimi amici, and welcome back to the Circus Maximus for the Second Quarterfinal race of this year’s Ludi Apollinares. This is Censor Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus speaking to you again and hoping that the nice guys from the Censura don’t bother me while I’m AWOL doing this… I’ve even shut off my mobile, or at least I think I did… [Mobile phone rings.] Oops, looks like I didn’t. Hello?...  Hi, Quadrate… where am I? On the racetrack, of course!... How do you mean “What are you doing there” ? Turn the TV on and you’ll see!... What? You’ve got a guy from Canada who’s just submitted a citizenship application? Well, you handle it! You’re Canadian yourself, for heck’s sake!... OK, sorry, I’ll be back in ten minutes. [Placidus clicks on mobile phone display – beep! – then puts mobile back in his prætexta’s belt bag and glances behind the camera.] Tullia, sorry, this is so stupid. [Female voice from behind the camera: “Don’t worry, Placide, this isn’t going out live. We’ll fix it.”] Oh, can you just cut it and back up a little bit? [Female voice: “Sure!”] Oh, well, then. [Short pause.]…

…Where was I? Ah yes, the race. Well, it may be the dimmer evening light, but the bleachers look to me a bt “redder” than before… Ah, here’s why: we’ve got three contestants for Russata and only one for Veneta on the track! Well, I bet that the lonely Blue will be particularily determined to win against the Reds. Here they are: on lane I Ulpia Secunda, sister chariot of Ulpia Prima, owned like its counterpart by the hot Spaniard C. Æmilius Crassus and driven by Sertorius, a former legionary and Centurio with a patch over his left eye and a special preference, I’m told, for saving all his energies for the last lap and for not hesitating in hitting his rivals as soon as they go even very slightly wrong! On lane II, here is the lonely Blue representative, Fragor, running for Veneta, owned by A. Iulius Paterculus and driven by Caratacus, a middle-aged man sporting some very cool tattoos, as far as I can see from here… hey, wait a minute! Aren’t those intricate spirals on his arms also painted in a vivid blue tempera on the chariot? I wonder what came first! On lane III, there’s Ralfy-M, a weird-named chariot owned by my friend Lentulus Jr.… no, not you up there, my dear director… your offspring!... and driven by a dark-skinned man whose name, Tyrannosarurus, doesn’t promise anything good… we shall see. Finally, in lane IV, we’ve got Taurus Flammeus, owned by Miss Tita Popilia Lænas – one of the very few strong-willed women in this male-dominated world! – and driven by a rather strong-looking guy named Triumphus.

Okay, they’re all ready now… Caratacus’ apparently sleepy horses seem to have suddenly woken up… my Prætorial friend Lucilius is also ready with his nappa… he drops it… and they’re off!

LAP I

Unlike the previous Quarterfinal, there is no clear leader during these first two turns of the dreaded spinæ in the Circus. Rather, all four chariots are very conspicuously (and maybe suspiciously, I’d say!) moving in a straight horizontal line along the track. Every now and then I can see the two big, bulky horses pulling Ralfy-M stick out their neck ahead of all the others… Maybe they’re a bit less elegant than Crassus’ and Sertorius’ pure-breed black Lusitanians, in close pursuit to the momentary leader, but those two brown steeds certainly appear stronger… may this be a case where pure breed counts very little, or maybe it’s just an impression of mine which derives from the sheer fury with which coal-black driver Tyrannosaurus is lashing them? We shall see in the next laps… I’m already witnessing the second bronze dolphin bowing his head downwards, which means it’s time for…

LAP II

Tyrannosaurus and Ralfy emerge from the mist, clearly ahead of their pursuers. Well, what can I say… I’m glad that this race is starting to have a leader, but… hey, young Triumphus, I’d look behind your back if I were you, because that wild driver next to you looks VERY unpredictable regarding what his next move could be! I see him slowing down – what the hell? Ah, I see now! Triumphus, watch your left side! Oh, gee, too late…. Ralfy furiously hits Taurus, which screeches against the wall… sparks from wheels’ spokes fly everywhere… what a mighty struggle!... but Triumphus has apparently found a curious way to move out of what could be a certain defeat and maybe worse than that… they’re parting… and I’m looking at the up-to-now unmovable Tyrannosaurus showing what looks like tears coming out his left eye… Close-up, please… no, it’s not tears. Triumphus spat in his eye!! The big dark man is clearly not pleased, and I bet he’s going to pull another trick now that the third dolphin goes down and we’re into…

LAP III

All of this funny exchange …well, folks, it WAS funny, you must admit it!... between the two lead drivers had somehow distracted me from what was happening behind them, but now I’m seeing Sertorius on Ulpia Secunda launching what definitely looks like a great attack on Tyrannosaurus’ leadership… and he manages perfectly! Now he’s just a few centimeters behind him… Tyrannosaurus apparently tries out his “slow-down-and-hit” trick again, but Sertorius is smarter – having used, with great profit, the same sort of tricky move in his past races – and swerves to the right in exactly the same moment as Tyrannosaurus doing the very same thing… making them both look like they’ve become momentarily inebriated. But the big man on Ralfy obviously isn’t, and with a “Now I’ll show you!” attitude he re-starts lashing his bulky horses like mad, now that the fourth dolphin is folding, marking the beginning of…

LAP IV

Gee, folks, what a race! What I’ve been modestly trying to describe to you up to now – and I really don’t know whether I’ve managed to do that…. after all I am a Censor, not a sports reporter! – has led to a very well-defined situaton which shows Tyrannosaurus on Ralfy in the lead, Sertorius on Ulpia Secunda closely following him, and Triumphus on Taurus Flammeus now pairing with Caratacus on Fragor, both struggling to get a place in the Semifinal while knowing at the same time that they’re never going to make it, as they’re both third!... Hey, what’s up now? One of Caracatus’ horses looks like he’s not feeling like racing any longer! He snorts, goes completely out of step, whinnies… and Fragor smacks the wall. Oh, such a stroke of bad luck… Caratacus is completely thunderstruck, and I can easily see why. He already knew that his supporters in the Circus wouldn’t see him again on the track until the next race event, of course, but finishing fourth after performing so greatly in such a great race is an undoubtable dishonor. So that’s how it ends, once again the bleachers are as red as the setting evening sun… and Caratacus climbs off his half-broken chariot with his head crumpled downwards, wanting to disappear. Luckily there’s his master Paterculus consoling him next to the stables…

… and this is the way this Second Quarterfinal ends. All that’s left to do for me, Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus, is signing off, and inviting you all to tune in tomorrow, for the Semifinal!

[Placidus moves aside and retrieves his mobile, unaware that Tullia is still filming him from behind the camera. She giggles.] Oh, you still there? [More giggling.] Well, duty calls. [He dials a number on the mobile, which beeps.] Hello, Censorial Office? This is Censor Placidus… No, I'm not saying where I am. May I speak to Quadratus, please?... OK, thanks….Hi, Quadrate. Sorry about the way I behaved before….  I was a complete fool and… What?... Wait a minute, are you actually telling me you liked it? [He blushes slightly.] No, you needn’t say that to me… you know I’m shy... Well, now I’m going straight back where you are… Oh, yeah? Can I stay here?...Well, thanks. You’re so kind, as usual. Bye. [He hangs up.] Could you ever picture that, Tullia? He told me I was perfect in my chronicle!

[Tullia, from behind the camera: “Well, did you have any doubts?”]

Well, yes… no, I mean… I’m a Censor…

[Tullia: “Aw, whatever you are doesn’t matter. You WERE perfect. And that’s that.”]

Salvete, Quirites, amici spectatores omnibusque, and welcome to the most epic-evoking event of these whole Ludi Apollinares – the gladiatorial combats! My name is still Censor Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus, and as you can gather I’m still at the helm of Nova Roma’s Censorial Office. But there are quite a few differences ce from my previous broadcasts. The most clearly visible one is a change of location – I’m not at the Circus Maximus, but inside the great Flavian Amphitheater, most commonly known as the Colosseum… by the way, I’d like to thank my Scriba and friend Quadratus for giving me a lift from the Censura to here on his beaten-down and rickety but still working automobile. (Quadrate, what kind of car is that? I don’t remember…) Another big piece of news is that I won’t worry any longer, at least until Monday night, about being AWOL from my office… simply because I’m not AWOL at all! My leave of absence has indeed been fully authorized by Consul Caninus himself, who loved my very first broadcast for these Ludi – about the First Quarterfinal of the Chariot Race – and left me a message on my mobile… “You can stop caring about all the paperwork in there – you have a Scriba, don’t you? HE can handle the paperwork! You’ve got to have fun in the arenas – after all it’s Ludi time! Drop by my office if you need some official piece of paper… it won’t be a problem at all!” So I did drop by his office, and what I got is the official written authorization from him to conduct all of the remaining Ludi Apollinares broadcasts! Isn’t that cool?

Anyway, let’s not waste any more time – we’re live now, you know! – and get straight to the point here: the first quarterfinal, and first fight. The bleachers have already filled themselves up with people, and once again they’re bichromatic – Blues and Reds, with a slight prevalence of the former as we only have 3 out of 8 fighters who represent Russata – all the others fight for Veneta.

A huge cheer erupts in the Amphitheatre as the first fighter makes his triumphant entrance in the arena! He is Venetius, a Retiarius, a former fisherman from Britannia who decided to leave his boat and the Northern Seas for the equally hard but more profitable (but also riskier!) gladiatorial career. Standing at an height of 6 feet and sportring dark brown hair, brown beard and mustache as well as green eyes, a light skin, broad shoulders, muscular forearms and muscular thighs, he is owned by Consul M. Pompeius Caninus and represents Veneta. Opposite him, here comes a menacing-looking Dimachærus from the depths of Africa, named Absbrubal, owned by C. Tullius Valerianus Germanicus and also fighting for Veneta…so a teammate of Venetius but by no means a friend of his… indeed they come from wholly different cultures and environments!

A sharp siren sounds from Prætor Sextus Lucilius Tutor’s elevated chair and, while his colleague Aulus Liburnus Hadrianus is monitoring the entire broadcast from the main studio, to ensure regularity, the fight starts. Like in all of the beginnings of all gladiatorial fights, nothing of much importance happens: the men step slowly toward each other, shoot fiery looks at each others, exchange grunts and sniffs. Then they DO start. Venetius makes a series of quick lunges with his trident… one, two, three… all pretty harmless as they hit his opponent’s armor. But on the fourth hit, he scores: the trident aims straight for Absbrubal’s chest and three small red marks appear on it. Of course he reacts, and his huge siccæ start flying through the air. But Venetius parries every single hit with the stick of his trident… Consul Caninus, didn’t you tell me he was a fisherman? He rather looks like an expert fencer!

And now… oops! His finely-woven net lands on Absbrubal’s head. The African looks confused for a split-second, but he’s too smart to let himself be caught by one of a Retiarius’ most common tricks: a quick swish with his left sicca, a sharp turn of his head and the net is on the ground. Venetius promptly moves to retrieve it… and Absbrubal, seizing the chance of a momentary distraction, thrusts his sicca into his oppenent’s leg. Ouch! The cut is deep… Venetius’ leg shows some unpleasant-looking dark red lines… he falls on his knees… everything’s over for him? No! Without even fully standing up, he jumps forward, and pushes his short dagger deep into the rear side of Absbrubal’s left leg, who screams in pain and falls. NOW it is over for him, and he’s left at the mercy of the clamoring audience… which is curiously split: half of the Amphitheater is booing, the other half is cheering and whistling. Yes, it’s fifty-fifty… but Prætor Lucilius glances at the numbers on the electronic billboard and adds his own thumb-up. A cloud of blue confetti lifts itself up from the bleachers, and Absbrubal exits the arena suffering like mad, but alive…

…which wraps up our First Quarterfinal match. Time for some words from our sponsors… yeah, ads. The necessary evil. You may push those buttons on your remote, but don’t be away too long… we’re back in less than five minutes!

Okay, dominæ et domini, are you all back and comfortable in your chairs in front of the screen? Well, don’t get TOO comfortable, as more rough fighting is about to happen!

Indeed, here comes marching in a young Thraex named Decimus Antonius Interficius, fighting for Russata… ah, that’s why the Red minority on the bleachers is starting to wake up… and owned by the pretty Lucia Claudia Quadrata Feles… hey, is it an impression of mine or the one-time “genteel gender” is actually starting to show off its fangs?! Chariots, gladiators, I gather there’s even a gladiatrix coming in later on! Anyway, Interficius has his full heavy armor already on… including his typical Thraex helmet. He lifts his visor just long enough for the audience to meet his gaze… and for me to realize how YOUNG he is. From the opposite side another Retiarius is advancing. His name is Marcus Pompeius Magnus, he fights for Russata as well and is owned by my friend C. Claudius Quadratus, who has just bought what he calls “a powerhouse” from the Numidian slave market… hey, Quadrate, would you please tell me just in how many pies are you putting your fingers?

Lucilius’ siren goes off, which means it’s time to fight! Interficius moves forward immediately… not even time for Magnus to study his moves… and zap! the sicca hits Magnus’ shoulder, just above his manica. He doesn’t even get the time to be perplexed at what has just happens… and here Interficius is at it again! The sicca moves so rapidly around Magnus’ body that he cannot even see where he’s getting hurt! He tries to react with his trident… what? Is it blunted?... but Interficius parries it all-too-easily with his parmula. Well, it looks like the “powerhouse” is not so powerful after all, is he? Even his dagger thrusts are pretty much ineffective… the youngster feels invincible in his armor, and with such a weak opponent he has good reasons to feel like that! Now Magnus tries a desperate move: throwing his net directly over the many holes in Interficius’ helmet, he hopes to obscure his vision for a second so that he can smack his head with what he sees as a mighty blow… but the helmet just vacillates slightly and Interficius stands still. And here comes the sicca yet again! On the arm! Oh, this wound is deep now. He falls. He’s done. He starts removing all of his weaponry very slowly and very plaintively – as if saying, “Look at me. I’m not a hero. I’m a man. I am vulnerable”. But even this silent plea is not enough… people all around the bleachers are putting their thumbs down…  the photosensitive cells scattered all around the Amphitheatre add up to a staggering 83% on the display...  but I don’t need them to know that Magnus was oh, such a bad fighter – the booing from the audience all around him are more than enough to prove that. He is carried straight away to his cell, to meet his fate… I can hear him screaming… Oh, heck, I’m not used to this. I don’t WANT to experience this. Hey, studio, can we get straight into the ads, please? Thank you…

Hello, welcome back here. We’re going into the Third Quarterfinal, third fight and… excuse me for a second. [Placidus bows his head down and starts a hushed, whispered prayer: Please, let me see no more death in here. Please, let me see no more d—] Ahem. Sorry, folks. I got a bit of a ‘downer’ moment. Let’s move forward, shall we? Hey, but… wait a minute… what is that I’m seeing coming out of the door? I’d recognize that wild mane of blonde hair everywhere! Dorothea!! What are YOU doing here? [Lentulus Jr., who is near the broadcasting center, approaches Placidus: “Didn’t I tell you she was a gladiatrix as well as a charioteer?”] Well, no, amice, you didn’t. [Lentulus Jr: “Well, now you know.” He moves away.] So, what a nice surprise from my friend Lentulus… she is a Red, of course. We shall see if a different ground results in a different performance from her, also keeping in mind that she’s a Dimachærus. And she’s paired with… folks, I’ll let you guess. Yeah, you got that right: a Retiarius! Seems like the net-and-trident-wielding guys are big favourites of our entrants, aren’t they? His name is Andreas and he was entered for Veneta by Ædilis A. Iulius Paterculus, who informed me that he’s a young man (one more? oh, well…)  who seems to take the fact that he is engaged in life-and-death combat very lightly.  Paterculus also informs me of his somewhat clumsy appearance, and states that whatever success he has in combat is clearly luck rather than skill, however he is good at making his mistakes look humourous as he attempts to win over the crowd. Oh, that’s it, then? A popular hero? Well, we’re on TV, dear Ædilis – isn’t he just what we need? I wonder what sort of rabbits will he pull out of his magic hat against the mighty Dorothea….

…and I shall know right now! A blare of the siren, carrying an unmistakable order: fight! And they do. Andreas starts off quite aggressively, trying to thrust his short dagger everywhere on Dorothea – who doesn’t attack at all, as Lentulus told me she would. Indeed, she closes up her two siccæ, one in each hand, like a shield… which combines with her arm protections to give an almost unpenetrable barrier. And Andreas’ fuirously-moving dagger produces nothing but clang, clang, clang, clang… until she happens to look up for a split-second and… swish! She gets a small scar on her left cheek. Yes, you got that right, Patercule: the guy IS lucky. And yes, he’s also a show-off… on a whole other planet than the restrained lioness he’s facing, who keeps shielding herself as best as she can without ever drawing a single blow… is this the human Fury I saw yesterday on the racetrack? I can hardly believe that. “Boo!” and  “Pfui!” shouts start coming down from the Reds, and I can easily see why. And then… just as I wasn’t expecting anything like that … she trips over the stick of Andreas’ trident, which he was very goofily trying to thrust between her legs, and falls to the ground – more out of tiredness than of any real pain. The smart-aleck Andreas has won. The Reds on the bleachers immediately push their thumbs down… but they simply aren’t enough to condemn Dorothea. Indeed, she barely gets a 39%, and her chosen “defensive” technique – hated around here but sometimes profitable! – earns her life back for her. She rises, pants a bit, then exhales and walks proudly out of the farther door.

…What a nice image to leave you to a final burst of ads with. Isn’t it, folks? We’ll be back very soon!

Welcome back to the Colosseum, we’re into the Fourth and last Quarterfinal, fourth and last match in this busy, heady, sunny morning here in Roma, and we’re more than ready to meet our remaining two fighters. And here they are! “Steel lady” Tita Popilia Lænas, still fuming from the really undeserved elimination of her chariot and her driver from the Second Quarterfinal of the Chariot Race, is bringing in her new man… Triumphus Maculosus, a Secutor. Another helmet guy. Wow, I love that. Hey, Lady Popilia, are you sure we’re still in a Roman-styled gladiatorial combat? Didn’t we maybe fast-forward to the Middle Ages for a second? I’m conjuring up weird images in my mind… foggy memories… did I live another life before this one? Was I someone else? Bah, I shall try not to think of any of that… also because the opponent is coming in, and he is… no, this time I won’t even invite anybody to guess it. [Voices behind Placidus: “A Retiarius!!”] Well, you said it, not me! But at least I know for sure, now, that we’re doing things the Roman way and in no other way, because Secutores are almost invariably paired with Retiarii. This guy’s name is Stoicus – nomen omen,  as they say! – and he has been subscribed for Veneta by… Sextus Lucilius Tutor?? Our Prætor himself?! [Placidus looks up to Prætor Lucilius.] Hey, Prætor, why don’t you come down here to hug your guy and get your own hands dirty for a sec? I myself did, you know – I’ve been a charioteer! [Lucilius smiles while shaking his head and hands.] OK, it was just a thought. Blow that thing, Prætor, will you?

The starting siren does indeed blow quite loudly. Maculosus unsheats his sword – here it is finally, the gladius! – and gazes fixedly at Stoicus from behind his helmet for seconds which seem to last like hours. Then he lunges. Repeatedly. And yet again there’s a series of great parries by Stoicus with his trident – hey, but did all of these Retiarii go to fencing school in their spare time? Or did their lanistæ? I’ll find out sooner or later… In the meantime, Stoicus is proving to be quicker and leaner than his bulky, masked opponent… and what he CAN’T do with his trident, which is just about to break upon the Secutor’s heavy scutum, he definitely can with his dagger! Right on Maculosus’ left shoulder! Yeah, ouch. That hurts, doesn’t it? Maculosus, I your scutum, however big and heavy it is, can’t do anything against this guy’s gazelle-like slenderness. And now... well, I’m not sure whether this is within the rules or not… Stoicus steps back, he raises his right leg up high and KICKS the gladius out of Maculosus’ hand! And immediately after that, he stomps him onto the ground… with the same leg!! That’s what I call a strong guy! A  really deserved victory! Now the final verdict on Maculosus is up to the audience. Once again they split up between boos and cheers, between thumbs up and down… and once again the Prætor adds the determining “up” vote, sparing Maculosus and showing a wonderful sportsman’s attitute. After all, it was a good, enjoyable fight, wasn’t it, Prætor? [Placidus looks up again. Prætor Lucilius winks and gives HIM a thumbs-up.] Oh, looks like I got it too, didn’t I? “All’s well that ends well”, as somebody said. It’s two o’clock PM and this is really all for now. So… this is Censor and now fully authorized sportscaster Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus signing off. See you all tomorrow at noon, same place, same channel, for the Semifinals!

Ladies and gentlemen, dominæ et domini, salvete omnes and welcome to the First Semifinal fight of the Munera Gladiatoria for Ludi Apollinares 2768 AUC! I am, as always, Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus, Censor of Nova Roma and, thanks to the good graces of Consul Caninus, official broadcaster of these Ludi. Everything is just on the verge of being ready, here in the Colosseum… Blue flags and ornaments are starting to appear upon the bleachers… with a smattering of Reds, of course, supporting the only remaining representative... and in a short time the whole place is going to become bichromatic as usual. And here they come in… the protagonists… the heroes… the fighters! Venetius, Andreas and Stoicus for Veneta with Decimus Antonius Interficius, the lone boy for Russata. They are all accompanied by their respective masters and owners: our esteemed Consul M. Pompeius Caninus, our Ædilis A. Tullius Paterculus, our Prætor Sex. Luciulius Tutor and Lady Lucia Claudia Quadrata. Wow, three magistrates standing on the dirty fighting ground… and all of them wearing their brand-new togæ pretextæ!! This is well worth a pic, folks – and indeed here’s what they’re all doing there… posing for pics! (No selfies, please!) OK, you clicking press guys, have you all run out of batteries for your flashes yet? Well, then, everybody take your places, we have to start! First off, we have Venetius Vs. Interficius, Retiarius vs. Thraex – this is going to be interesting, as in the normal state of things Retiarii have no chances at all against the Tracian boys. But is anything NORMAL in these Ludi? I wouldn’t say! Prætor, blow your siren – time to fight!

Venetius starts off in quite the same fashion as in his previous, victorious fight from yesterday with dark-skinned Absbrubal: he grabs his trident, spreads his arms wide and he starts lunging wildly with it. It’s quite a surprise attack for a Thraex, but also an almost harmless one for him… as his mighty helmet and metallic leg protections are definitely giving to young Interficius a sense of empowerment, which he is ready to put to good use – as he does right now! His sicca rises high in the air,  Venetius tries to contrast it with his trident… which gets promptly blunted by Interficius’ stronger, harsher weapon. An angered Venetius throws the useless trident away from him, on the ground, and unsheats his dagger. Now he’s firmly intentioned to do some damage… and lo and behold, he does, cutting straight into the Thraex’s exposed left arm and leaving him somewhat painful for a moment. But the power of youth is enough for him not to care about the wound, and swiftly he recommences wielding his sicca. Venatius is ready – he parries with his dagger – clang! And then again: clang! A dagger versus a sicca?!? As incredible as it may look, it’s exactly like that: Venetius is putting all of his fisherman’s strength into that short thing, and it’s becoming harder and mightier than the longest gladius!! But alas, the respective amounts of force are too much for both fighters… they detach… and they both crumble to the ground! Most of the audience erupts into laughter, not knowing what to think anymore... but their mirth is cut short by Prætor Luciulius grabbing his personal michrophone and shouting: “STOP!!” Dead silence falls in the arena. “THIS FIGHT IS EVEN. YOU DECIDE!”. His words boom across the PA and the echo is soon covered by excited talking from everywhere. “VOTE FOR THE RETIARIUS!” announces the Prætor. Thumbs-up, thumbs-down. From everybody. “NOW VOTE FOR THE THRAEX!” Idem ut supra. Hmmm. Not easy to gather who won, luckily we’ve got photosensitive cells. Lucilius has obscured the billboard as he wants to announce the result personally. He climbs down, carrying his mic with him, then stands among the two weary fighters and says: “WITH A VERY NARROW MARGIN OF 52 TO 48 PERCENT, VENATIUS WINS!” He lifts the former fisherman’s arm. Blue supporters cheer all around. Then, in a lower but still well-hearable voice, the Prætor talks to Interficius: “You were fantastic, son. You’re safe”. The young Thraex finally removes the heavy helmet from his head… he bangs it on the ground… and jumps for joy! He seems to have regained his full youthful vigor… …and again, what a beautiful way to temporarily close this broadcast link. Censor Placidus here, signing off for a short break with the news and a few ads, and coming back later on for the Second Semifinal. Stay right where you are!   

Salvete omnes, and welcome back to the Colosseum for the Second and last Semifinal of the Munera Gladiatoria… [Confused clamoring of people behind Placidus. A man bumps into him… “Oh, excuse me, Censor!” Placidus smiles at him and makes an OK gesture.] You may have gathered that this is Censor and by now fixed Ludi Apollinares commentator Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus speaking to you live… Sorry for all of this chaos happening behind me, folks… dear old Lentulus Sr. back at the studio has decided to reconnect with me right now that most of the audience is starting to come back in… they’re all carrying their little cups of sparkling water, coffee, tea, cervisia, Falernian… you name it!... and somebody’s even licking away at strawberry-flavored and vanilla-flavored ice cream sticks… everything from the nearby, newly-opened café owned by C. Aurelius Vindex, who has decided to give everybody a fresh round of refreshments to celebrate these Ludi. Well done, Vindex!

OK, is everybody re-gaining their seats? [Male voices: “Yeah!!” A young female’s voice from the audience: “Censor Placide, you’re great!” He blushes.] Thank you, dear. Oh gee, am I becoming more popular than THEM?! [waving at the gladiators on the ground.] Anyway, let’s not waste any more time: the fighters are coming in! Entering from the left (or Northern) door, here comes Retiarius Andreas, subscribed by Ædilis A. Iulius Paterculus … who… oops!...  almost trips on his own net, among laughter from everywhere!! What a goofy guy… or maybe is he a natural-born comedian, who has already got an assured successful career as a stand-up act in one of the several clubs down there in Suburra, once he gets tired of fighting in here? Only time will tell, as they say. Stoicus, his equally net-and-dagger-and-trident-armed opponent, subscribed by our Prætor, makes his entrance to the arena from the right (or Southern) door, and sets himself directly opposite Andreas. Prætor… [Placidus looks up and sees that Lucilius is distracted.] Hey, Prætor! [He recoils…] Don’t just stand there looking at your property like it was your new toy and blow your siren, will you? [WHEEEEEZE!] Thanks a lot, amice. Well, guys… off you go!

Andreas starts advancing and… wha’? Am I hearing laughter coming from the bleachers yet again? Oh, no… he’s got his net wrapped not over his shoulder, where it would normally (and wisely) be… but over his HEAD!! Hey, Andy, are you trying to get some sort of do-it-yourself headgear, like some other guys have? You should know that Retiarii are not entitled to have any! Or did you forget that you are a gladiator and you’re turning into a fisherman? (We do already have one in here!) Well, Andreas must’ve heard either me or what’s going on around him , as he’s removing the net from his head… and pulling a VERY disgruntled face to the people laughing behnd him, which shushes them up. However… Andreas apparently is not aware that in a gladiatorial combat (which he is taking, as usual, as lightly as a feather!), just like on the road, you must look IN FRONT of you, not behind. Turn around, and you get hurt… and indeed Stoicus does not let the unforeseen chance given to him by his opponent’s distraction pass him by… seizes it… lunges with his trident on Andreas’ left shoulder, the unprotected one. Right there! Aah! Well, Andy, did that hurt a bit? Are you realizing that this is NOT some kind of game? That your LIFE is at stake in here? Aw, it’s useless talking to this guy, he just seems not to do anything right. He tries making an attack with his trident... but Stoicus is quicker: he throws his net up in the air, catches the trident’s tips and sends it flying from Andreas’ hand… bash!... straight off onto the ground. Andreas is caught off-guard… not for the first time, I have to say. Then Stoicus pulls his dagger off the sheath and starts attacking again. And here goes Andreas the buffoon clowning again… he does a sort of dance in front of Stoicus, as if mocking him: You don’t get me! You don’t get me! But Stoicus DOES get him in the end… I’m not sure whether by skill or by luck, but the tip of his dagger ends up VERY close to Andreas’ esposed right toe… or maybe right into it! All I can see is that Andreas has stopped dancing: he’s kneeling and grabbing his foot. Well, it looks like that’s exactly what Stoicus was waiting for: he looks at him with a very “bleah!”-like attitude, moves behind him and kicks his butt, making him crumble down. Well, folks… I’m sure that Stoicus won this match, but did Andreas really lose? “VOTE FOR THE LOSER!” urges Prætor Lucilius from his podium. I guess whether the audience did actually hear him or not… all I can hear (and see!) is wild laughter all around. But yeah, there are a few thumbs-up and thumbs-down. The numbers add up on the billboard. 51%. He’s safe.

Well, what more can I say, folks? After all of yesterday’s gloom, I think I may close this broadcast link with a rather wide smile on my face. This is Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus signing off for the last time here from the Colosseum, see you later this evening at the Gymnasium… and over to you, studio.

[Male voice, off-screen: “Three, two, one, go.” The broadcast opens on a shot of Placidus at Circus Maximus. He is slightly flustered, and panting. He tries to tidy himself up, but in vain]

Salvete omnes, amici spectatores!...huff! puff! This is Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus broadcasting LIVE from the Circus Maximus in Roma for the eagerly-awaited…puff!... Semifinal of the Chariot Race in the Ludi Apollinares. Huff! [Short pause. Placidus wipes his sweaty forehead with a corner of his toga prætexta.] First of all, I humbly beg forgiveness from all of you watching from your TV screens for the absolutely horrible condition in which I am appearing to you, and I shall try to do my best to explain all the wheres and whys and all of the nuts and bolts of it. You see, less than two hours ago I’ve had the great pleasure of witnessing two of the best gladiatorial fights EVER in my opinion, down at the Colosseum, for the Semifinals of the Munera Gladiatoria… and after spending a very pleasant half-hour with my fellow prætextati magistrates who were there with me – namely Ædiles Paterculus and Prætor Lucilius – I set off for the Circus trusting the well-known efficiency of Roma’s public transportation means… and indeed a very kind bus driver dropped me at the nearest possible stop to the Circus. However, there was a huge traffic jam in the streets around here, which means that the bus couldn’t reach any nearer than 300 meters from here. So I had to do those 300 meters on foot and, needless to say, I ran! This, hopefully, explains everything.

Anyway, now I definitely AM here and, from the broadcast center’s window, I’m very glad to see not only BOTH chariots owned by my dear friend Lentulus, from the Russata team, getting ready to run on the racetrack – respectively, Nova Roma with Dorothea (who’s still dirty from the dust, sweat & blood in the gladiators’ arena, but still fiercely fascinating!) on Lane I, and Ralfy-M with mighty African Tyrannosaurus at its helm on Lane III – but also the owner himself, who is right here a few steps from me! Hey, amice, hook up with me for a minute, will you? I’d like a short interview with you. [Lentulus smiles and denies with his hands, but Placidus insists.] Come on! [Lentulus: “OK”. He stands next to Placidus.]

So, amice care, how are you enjoying the races so far?

[Lentulus: “Stunning, absolutely stunning. And it’s all because of you, Placide amice!”]

Aw, don’t adulate me. [Lentulus: “No, it’s true!”] After all the merit for having BOTH chariots on the racetrack is all yours… and one of them is driven by a woman who, although defeated, walked out of the Gladiators’ arena as proud as a queen!

[Lentulus giggles. “No, amice, it’s pure and sheer luck. I didn’t do anything with the chariots and they’re really nothing special! Even my teammate Crassus’ Ulpia Secunda, down there on Lane IV with Sertorius, is better than mine. But yeah, I did my job. And of course I have no wish to be mistaken for the usual recommended guy who wins everything because he’s got liaisons in high places. You know what and who I mean, don’t you?”] Yeah, sure, I know perfectly. [Lentulus: “And as for Dorothea, she’s just a slave I found at the market. She was too gorgeous to live a slave through all of her days, so I freed her… and again it’s sheer luck that she’s very good in both sports!”]

OK, amice, let’s say for now I believe you. [Lentulus giggles again.] You may go now. Vale!

[Lentulus: “Optime vale, Censor amice, and have a nice chronicle!”]

Ah, my dear Lentulus. Always the joker kind of guy… Where were we? Ah, the race. Well, you’ve heard my friend talking about Crassus and Ulpia Secunda, and so the line-up is completed by Fulmen Punicum, driven by Hanno PÅ“nulus and owned by C. Tullius Valerianus Germanicus for Veneta… ah, the lone Blue! This explains the complete and utter chromatic reversal I am seeing on the bleachers, from the Colosseum to here – it’s a Reds-dominated circus with just one quarter of  Blues! Well, in a really short while we shall find out if the bichromy will be persisting all the way through tomorrow evening’s Final… as Prætor Lucilius (who’s here as well… he caught the bus before mine, the lucky bastard! *grin*) is about to drop the nappa… and he does… and they’re off!

LAP I

As it was easily predictable ever since I saw HER on the track, Dorothea immediately takes the lead by inflicting a series of high-power lashes upon her horses – and one on her rival driver Pœnulus in Lane II, who is (understandably) nothing-but pleased! He looks at her with admiration – she ignores him, of course. Her lioness-like blond mane… ahem, hair… has re-started freely flowing behind her head and everyone is in awe… including, somehow, the bulky Tyrannosaurus on Ralfy and Sertorius on Ulpia Secunda, who are lagging behind… at least for the moment. Here comes the terrible spina… Pœnulus, after speeding with all his might through the preceding straight line, slows down a little bit and wisely turns at a safe distance from it, while Dorothea, at full blast, crosses EXTREMELY close to the spina… gee, she is SO close… but nothing happens, and she keeps her lead. What a woman! Even the brazen second dolphin, coming down to announce the start of the next lap, seems to be bowing to her.

LAP II

I honestly think that from now on, until the very end of this Semifinal, we may stop worrying about Dorothea on Nova Roma, for two reasons: 1) her lead is solid all the way through – her immediate pursuer Pœnulus, no matter how hard he tries, gets closer and closer and closer and closer but never seems to actually overtake her! … and 2) she keeps eating up bend after bend, spina after spina, just like a ten-year-old schoolboy would eat up a slice of bread abundantly smeared with Nutella!! [Lentulus, near the broadcasting center, explodes into roaring laughter.] Hey, Lentule, you liked that, huh? Folks, sorry for the down-to-the-ground silliness of this food-based comparison, but it’s just about the only way in which I can describe what the wild woman’s doing. And what about the other two? Well, they’re in the back, looking somehow like they’re having a pleasant stroll on a leafy Roman avenue… except for the fact that they’re insulting each other, with Tyrannosaurus spouting out unwritable obscenities in some Arab dialect to Sertorius, who responds with worse stuff in Gallæcian… while the third dolphin bends, telling me that we’re into…

LAP III

What did I tell you about Dorothea? We don’t need to follow her anymore. While Pœnulus keeps restraining his otherwise furious horses at every single spina to avoid crashing into a wall, the lioness queen keeps gnawing at them… just like a lioness after some profitable hunting! Of course it is in the straight lines that the short-sized Veneta driver gets his chances not only to abbreviate his detachment from the all-powerful Nova Roma chariot, but to take a closer look at its driver. And everytime he does get close and winks at her, she barely glances at him – and when she glances him a bit longer, it’s just to blow a rapsberry at him with her mouth. Back there, Tyrannosaurus must have somehow realized that it’s not the middle of Spring, and that he’s not smelling the flowers while walking and thinking about nothing, and he’s starting to shoot some lashes as well, and VERY slightly speeding up. Well, you’re a bit late, ain’t you, big guy? Because, you see, the fourth dolphin is bowing right now, and it’s time for…

LAP IV

…the fourth and last lap of this mostly predictable race. Dorothea… aw, why am I still talking about her?!? She swallows the spina – gulp! – just like she’s swallowing a glass of water, and I bet she’s going to follow suit for the last bend. PÅ“nulus is yet again getting closer to her in the straight line... one more wink… one more thumb-up from him... and one more rapsberry from her!! PÅ“nulus, please allow me to give you a friend’s advice, will you? Give it up. She’s DEFINITELY not your kind of woman. And, talking about giving it up, there’s one man on the racetrack who seems to have taken my hypothetical advice to PÅ“nulus quite literally. He has resigned to being fourth. His black pure-breed steeds look more tired than every other creature here in the Circus – both four-legged and two-legged. And now… hey, what did I just tell you about Dorothea? She gets to the last bend and, not needing to rush any longer as she’s WAY ahead of everybody, she seems to fly around the spina with the gracefulness of an étoile from the Parisian Opera Ballet. And then, of course, she crosses the finish line in all her glory. Behind her, in second place, basking in his OWN glory of having earned a place in the Final – so he can see her again! – there’s Hanno PÅ“nulus on Fulmen Punicum… closely followed by Tyrannosaurus on Ralfy-M, who has somehow managed to catch up to him and finishes third… and the procession is concluded on a sour note by the disenchanted and broken Sertorius on Ulpia Secunda. C’mon, Sertori, it’ll be better next time. And to you, Crasse amice…  I do look forward to your chariot and gladiator subscriptions in the next Ludi!

This, I think, wraps up this penultimate broadcast of mine in the Ludi Apollinares – at least, as long as the Circenses are concerned. I’ve still got fighters waiting for me! However, for now, this is Censor-cum-manager-cum-sportcaster Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus signing off, and hoping to meet you all this evening. See you at the Gymnasium!

[The broadcast opens on a ceiling shot of a brightly lit but not excessively large room. The camera moves slowly downwards to reveal a cheering crowd of people, all standing behind a cord and equipped with blue flags, blue banners, blue bandanas etc. Some of them have their faces painted blue. Placidus stands in front of the crowd, about two meters from them.] Salvete omnes, dominæ ed domini… [Crowd clamouring behind.]… oof! Lentule, can you please put a bit more level into my chest mic? Otherwise these wild beasts behind me will be drowining me out! [His voice gets slightly louder.] Thank you. This is Censor Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus… [Voice from off-screen, near Placidus: “No, you’re not!”] What the h— [Placidus turns to his right. Consul M. Pompeius Caninus comes in full view next to him. Placidus sees him and stands to attention.] Consul! It’s you!

[Caninus: “At ease, amice. You’re not in the Legions’ ranks any longer. I’m just joking.”]

What do you mean, sir?

[Caninus: “Also, don’t ‘Sir’ me, please. I mean, you’re wonderful, but you just don’t need to introduce yourself with your full prænomen, nomen, cognomen and agnomen every time you start a broadcast. And you don’t need to qualify yourself as Censor. Just say “Placidus”, OK?]

OK, as you wish, sir. [The Consul smiles, points a finger at Placidus in a jokey manner and moves off-screen] Lentule, can we start from the top, please? [Voice from earphone.] Oh, we’re live?! Well, who the heck cares! Well, folks, just as I was about to say a minute ago, this is JUST Placidus… [He turns to Caninus, who smiles again.]…broadcasting live from the Gladiators’ Gymnasium in Roma, with more than  three hundred rowdy Blues huddling behind me… [Crowd clamours and waves flags.] and another five hundred or more, I guess, assembled outside and watching on the big screens what is, by definition, the Final match of the Munera Gladiatoria for the Ludi Apollinares 2768 AUC. [Prætor Lucilius and the Consul appear to introduce the contestants.] Standing beside me, on my left, introduced by his owner, none but Consul Caninus himself… 6 feet tall… long uncouth beard and hair… from the unwelcoming coasts of Northern Britannia… VENUTIUS!! [Crowd cheers.] Consul, please accept my humble apologies for getting his name wrong up to now – it’s VenUtius rather than VenEtius! I must have been given a wrong card. [The Consul winks at Placidus and mouths: “That’s OK.”] On my right, introduced by his owner, Prætor Sex. Lucilius Tutor… muscular and well-built… from Athens, but by now a fully naturalized Roman… STOICUS!! [More cheering.] Both of them, as you can see, are Retiarii; both fight for Veneta and both are equipped with their full weaponry: net, dagger and trident… Hey, Lucili, what is that curious red thing in your hand? [He shows it.] Oh, it’s the siren! Well, I don’t think you need it here in this rather intimate, closed-up setting. Just do a regular start.

[Everyone except the gladiators moves off-screen. Prætor Lucilius, off to the left: “Attention, please… Ready?… Fight!!”]

Ladies and gentlemen in front of your screens, even from the premise of this Final, I gather it’s going to be a truly memorable fight! Both Venutius and Stoicus have thrown their nets to the ground, as if explicitly stating that this is going to be a clean, honest, no-tricks combat. Venutius shots a menacing glance at Stoicus, while towering over his average-height opponent. But Stoicus, who has witnessed much worse than that in his native Greece, does not show any signs of fear at all, and indeed it is him who launches into his first dagger attack, very rapidly towards Venutius’ waist… he is faster, and neutralizes the hits very easily, either by parrying with his trident’s stick or by making a series of quick jumps. Now it’s his turn to make his attack move… he lunges with his trident, once, twice, but both times he hits Stoicus’ manica. At the third attempt, however, he scores… he’s hit Stoicus’ arm just below the manica! Stoicus winces slightly, but does no more than that… he has proven time and again that he his a hundred-percent faithful to the meaning of his name. And here go the daggers again! Both fighters are engaging with just the smallest, shortest weapons available to gladiators everywhere, but this doesn’t mean that the fight is less powerful and, for that matter, less furious: all that I’m hearing now is clang, clang, clang, clang! They’re even overwhelming the crowd’s furor! The hits they are both getting are mostly to their arms, but it seems that nothing can hurt them… and nothing can stop them… except maybe for… Prætor Lucilius, who sets himself between the two fighters. [Lucilius: “Time out, please, boys.” To Placidus: “Placide, this is becoming too repetitive and too drawn-out. We need the hit counter.”] Ah, OK, go get it, will you? [He moves off-screen again.] Well, folks, for the first time in these Munera, our latest technological gadget, the electronic hit counter, makes its appearance in a match. You see, this is a small box equipped with a camera which “sees” every move that our heroes make, whether it hits or not, and adds up one point for every correct, within-the-rules move for each gladiator… again, indipendently from the move causing any physical damage or not. [Lucilius comes in again with the hit counter and gives it to Placidus while holding a score-board in his hands. Then he restarts the match. “Attention, please, boys… Ready? Fight!”] The two fighters have suddenly become a lot more circumspect than before, as they know that every move they make, every finger they shift, counts as much as the nastiest of wounds! Venutius can’t wait any longer and grabs his trident… he thrusts it… again… and again… and again… … he hits Stoicus’ chest… the latter responds with the dagger, moving rapidly, but never too fast for the robotic eye in our device. Up… left… right… left again… center, to Venutius’ chest… he hits him… droplets of blood fall on the shining white marble floor of the Gymnasium… but the last very scoring move is from Venutius, who almost pushes his dagger straight into Stoicus’ arm! Only the latter’s quickness of movement saves him and… [Lucilius intervenes again: “STOP!! He shows the score-board to Placidus and the audience: VENUTIUS 7, STOICUS 6.] Oh my!! Venutius has won by ONE POINT!! Come here, big man.  Well done! [He goes to Venutius and puts his arm around Venutius’ shoulder – he barely manages to do that. Venutius’ face changes from seriously menacing to broadly smiling. He is joyful.] Ok, what more do we need, Prætor? Ah, sure, the vote. But I think we already know that, don’t we? [The audience shows indeed a vast majority of thumbs-up with a very few thumbs-down.] Stoicus, you were great and you are safe. This couldn’t end any better, right, Prætor? [Lucilius: “Right!!]

OK, dominæ et domini, puellæ et pueri, everyone who’s been watching this up to now… Munera Gladiatoria are OVER… at least for this edition of Ludi Apollinares! But the Ludi themselves are NOT over… I’ll be waiting for you all to join me at the Circus Maximus for the OTHER most exciting event of today, the Chariot Race Final! Anyway, as of right now, this is P. Annæus Constantinus Placidus signing off and seeing all of you later on, tonight!

[The broadcast opens on a shot of Placidus inside the broadcasting center. An elderly man, with his shoulders to him, is sitting in front of a TV monitor behind him, and various other monitors are on – with people sitting in front of them.]

Salvete omnes, dominæ et domini, iuvenes, puellæ et pueri – in one word, everybody! – and welcome back here in the Circus Maximus to the “Last of the Last” great event in this 2768 AUC edition of Nova Roma’s Ludi Apollinares – the Chariot Race Final! [The younger operators in front of the monitors behind Placidus cheer.] Thanks, guys. My name, as you probably know by now, is P. Ann. Constantinus Placidus – or just Placidus for anyone who knows me; for anyone who DOESN’T know me, well, I’m a Censor in Nova Roma, temporarily assuming the role of Ludi events manager, chronicler and commentator – quite a feat for a quiet unassuming guy like me, ain’t it? Something else you all are most probably able to notice is the setting around me – I’m not standing on the racetrack any longer, but I’m in the relatively calm environment of the director’s booth up here in the broadcast center… yes, folks, that’s where my affectionate video director operates from… Mr. Gnæus Cornelius Lentulus Maior, or better, Senior! Lentule, say hi to our viewers, will you? [Lentulus Sr. turns for a very short instant, half-grunts a “Hullo…” and turns promptly back to his monitor.] Hear that, folks? He can speak! [Lentulus, his back to Placidus: “Ha, ha, friggin’ ha. Very funny.”] Oh, just don’t care about him. He’s a bit of a grumpy bear. But he’s a fantastic director. And also a golden-hearted guy. Well, that’s not the only surprise I have here for you tonight… Quadratus, will you reveal yourself, please? [Gaius Claudius Quadratus comes in from off-screen right, and says hi.] Welcome here, amice mi, and thanks for having accepted my invitation.

[Quadratus: “Thanks a lot to YOU for having invited me here – a welcome diversion from the daily paperwork!”]

I can bet it is, amice. So, like I was asking Lentulus earlier this afternoon, how are you liking the races so far?

[Quadratus: “Well, Placide amice, as you may certainly see, I’m a little bit beyond the time when I could fully appreciate all of the hustling and bustling of chariot racing. But I can definitely assure you that, in my greener years, I didn’t miss a single Ludi broadcast… I saw lots and lots and lots on my old black & white set… and I occasionally watched a few others in color when my office job left me some time to… now that I’m retired, I think I can resume my former pastime, don’t you think?”]

Oh, definitely, amice. Listen, what—

[Quadratus:…and of course these latest broadcasts are much better than last year’s, because it’s you doing them!]

[Placidus blushes again…] Hey, hey, hey, all you flatterers. You really wish to turn me into a radish or something?!? First Tullia, then the Consul, now you… am I  maybe becoming some sort of new Deity to worsh— [He is interrupted by a grunt from  Lentulus Sr., who points out of the window towards the racetrack.] What’s up, Lentule? Are they starting yet? Ah, no, it’s the pageant. [Lentulus Sr. keeps pointing insistently out of the window…] What? Should I comment it? [Lentulus Sr.”Uh-uh!”]  OK, let me see… [He looks out.] Well… top models from India with the latest Oriental fashion trends… flower girls from Sicily… exotic dancers from… Egypt, I guess… the usual stuff as in every single Ludi Final. Boring. Yeah, sorry, Lentule, as an event commentator I shouldn’t be saying anything REMOTELY like that, but you see, I’m not— [Some bursts of half-coughed, stifled laughter are heard from Quadratus. Placidus turns back to him.]… I’m not a commentator, you see, amice. I honestly cannot say it’s the first time I’m doing something like this… I’m sure I’ve done it before… but it’s always something very, very outside my comfort zone. The fact is that… you know, Quadrate… I’m a—

[Quadratus: “…a Censor. Sure you are, Censor Placide. And a very good Censor to work for. But you also are a perfect anchorman to be interviewed by.”]

Oh, yes, the interview! I was forgetting about that… [Placidus turns for a moment to the window and sees that the charioteers are getting ready to line up on the starting line.] We’ve got time for just one more question. What is the element of chariot racing you are looking forward to the most? What do you expect to see?

[Quadratus: “Well, when I was younger, what I always enjoyed the most was the unrpredictability. The surprise factor. Now that everything’s quantized, electronicized, computerized, -ized, -ized, -ized, some of that unpredictableness is inevitably gone. But I’m glad that some quirky stuff still happens now and then out there on the tracks, doesn’t it?”]

Sure it does. [Crowd clamoring from outside.] Well, amice, looks like it’s time for me to resume my temporary job. It was a real pleasure chatting to you, but unfortunately I’ve got to start my chronicle.

[Quadratus: “OK, go ahead, amice. Vale!”]

Optime vale, Quadrate, et gratias multas iterum. [Quadratus moves away.] Great guy, isn’t he, folks? Anyway, back to the race. There are only two chariots on the track now – namely Lentulus Jr.’s Nova Roma, running for Russata, with the great, great Dorothea at the helm in Lane I, and next to it in Lane II we have Valerianus Germanicus’ Fulmen Punicum, running for Veneta and steered by the equally great – but differently, of course! – Hanno PÅ“nulus. The bleachers have regained the perfect Blue/Red bichromy I was expecting to see, this time more rigidly parted than before.  I’ve been told about the drivers’ different tactics – PÅ“nulus wanting to “save the best for last”, as they say, and hurry in the last laps, while Dorothea has chosen what she’s proven to be best at, i.e. hugging the spinæ, even for this last race. Dorothea… ahem… if  I were you, I’d be looking for somebody much better to be hugging than a cold stone wall! And maybe I’d find that somebody not too far from you!! But alas, I guess that romancing finds no time and no place in the heady and speedy world of chariot racing… and apparently, right now, PÅ“nulus’ nervous whistling before starting (whistling to himself, I guess, rather than to her!) is nagging her to the point that she’s getting more restless than her horses and she keeps looking to her right with an half-irritated, half-spiteful look on her face. Well, I’d say it’s quite a step forward from ignoring him outright! Anyway…they’ve both got no more time for that, as Prætor Lucilius has erected himself on his podium and he’s more than ready to drop the nappa. He does, and, for the last time in these Ludi, they’re off!

LAP I

A cloud… well,no! a small-sized tornado!... of white-brown dust rises up from the starting line… getting Prætor Lucilius’ brand-new toga prætexta all dirty in the process… Hey, Lucilius, now you know what it’s like to actually be on the racetrack, don’t you? The horses’ pace is furious for both charioteers, this time. Clearly Pœnulus has learned from Dorothea her trick of shooting a tremendously long string of sharp lashes to the horses in the very first seconds of a race, and puts it to very good use. He is exactly nose-to nose with her… side-by-side… as the first straight line of the first lap is ending, they’re paired and look like one huge monstrous Quadriga… except for the respective colours, of course, with Nova Roma’s gold-red paint shining beauifully to the last rays of the setting sun and being certainly more visible than Fulmen Punicum’s by-now-fading bluish tint. Anyway, colors don’t really matter here when there’s a SPINA waiting for you! Here they go… Pœnulus slows down, a bit less than he’s accustomed to do, and turns with no problems… Dorothea eats it up as usual. Hey… but… what’s that noise I’ve just heard? Was that a sort of muffled clang? And… is it my tired eyes, or is it Nova Roma’s right wheel slightly but perilously wobbling?! Lentule, please, can we get a bit of a zoom on the rear of her chariot? [Camera zooms in.] Oh, no… it’s not my eyes… she’s lost the middle bolt on the wheel!! She must’ve hit the wall… oh, heck, is her race over so shortly after beginning? [Glancing on the monitor, Placidus sees Dorothea bending over the side of her chariot, towards the wheel.] And why is she bending over like that… at the risk of getting a huge scratch from the wheel on her armpit?! I just have no idea… but I think I’ll find it out very soon, as the bowing second dolphin is telling me that Lap I is over and it’s the start of…

LAP II

Hey, folks! You won’t believe what you’re seeing… what I’M seeing… Dorothea’s horses have resumed galloping furiously, and her right wheel is as stable as ever! How’d she do that? Some sort of magic?... No, wait a minute… Lentule, can you zoom in again on her, please? [Lentulus Sr. grunts: “Humpf!”] Just one moment? Please? [Lentulus Sr.: “Uh, OK.” Camera zooms in as above.] Oh, sure! Her NECKLACE!! Now I do remember… Prætor Lucilius had even got one of his Scribæ to inform her, before the race, that wearing heavy jewellery on a racetrack – and more so during a Ludi Final – would be somehow against the rules… she was scornful as usual and that was pretty much it… but at the start she did wear a huge cubic-shaped bronze nut as the centerpiece of her necklace… which right now isn’t there anymore. I think I can guess where that bronze nut ended up. Can you, folks?  That woman’s got just as much willpower as that old steam train in that stage musical… wat was it called? [Quadratus, off-screen from behind Placidus: “Starlight Express!”]. Oh sure, Quadrate, that was it. [Quadratus smiles.] I’ve never seen ANYTHING like that happening during a chariot race, and I’ve witnessed a few. Quadrate amice, was that the “element of unpredictability” that you were looking for? [He glances back at Quadratus, who gives him two big thumbs-up.] Well, back to the race, folks… I see that Dorothea, totally forgetful of her accident, has gained a small but substantial lead… and it’s increasing… and PÅ“nulus is lagging a bit just as the third dolphin goes down, bringing us all right into…

LAP III

The Quadriga from Lap I seems to have mysteriously rebuilt itself, as right now the two chariots are perfectly paired… hey, they even got around the first spina together! Did somebody use glue? Or is there something else going on? Well, I’d better not investigate further, but I’m seeing Dorothea turning more and more and more often towards her opponent… up to now she always, invariably looked straight ahead of her! Oh, well, maybe I’m imagining things. And now… here goes Pœnulus exploiting his chosen tactic… we’re shortly past the middle point of the second straight line in Lap III and he speeds up, and up, and up… and overtakes her! Even from here I can hear the shouting from the Blue sides of the bleachers… VE-NE-TA!! VE-NE-TA!! This burst of joy is short-lived, however… a sharp acceleration from Dorothea, she catches up… and the Quadriga reforms itself yet again. There definitely IS something between these two. I can’t quite grasp what, right now, but there IS something… and it’s proved by their perfect, almost harmonious simultaneity in going around the second spina, exactly as before… the pair breaks down, but just a little… Fulmen’s horses are slightly ahead of Nova Roma’s for a brief moment as they cross the finish line for the penultimate time, and the fourth dolphin goes down to signal everyone that we, and they, are going to push into…

LAP IV

Yes. This is it. This is the Final. The last lap. The last chance. Some of my last words of comment as well, at least for these Ludi Apollinares. And of course, it’s the last time for me and for everyone to see the mighty Quadriga I’ve been watching since four laps ago in full action, and at full speed! They are not shifting an INCH… I can guarantee you, folks… it’s a PERFECT coupling! PÅ“nulus, of course, is still very much determined not to allow the lioness to have the final word, and, after distancing himself a little right around the first spina (of all places!), accelerates again and advances…. but the force and the sheer speed of Dorothea’s lashes are unmatchable and are simply too much for PÅ“nulus’ horses, and for his arms. So, while Nova Roma is swallowing the very last spina for the very last time in these Ludi, he remains very slightly behind. He makes a final push, a final desperate attempt to regain for himself a vision of the Quadriga, but it’s too late. The chariots cross the finish line, and Dorothea on Nova Roma wins by a neck… isn’t that what they say? Those good sportcasters  on the Olympic channel? [Quadratus, from behind: “Sure!”] While the Red color erupts all over the bleachers, PÅ“nulus on Fulmen Punicum is contented with a more-than-honourable second place. They restrain their horses, climb off their chariots and head towards the winners’ podium, where Prætor Lucilius is ready to meet them with their respective gold and silver medals. But… hey… as Dorothea is lifting her head up after being crowned with her medal… is that a SMILE I’m seeing on her face? And is she actually EYEING PÅ“nulus and smiling TO him?!

What was I telling you earlier, folks? There IS something between these two. Now I’ve finally grasped what it is. L’amour, as they say up there in Gallia. And while the air all around seems to be changing itself into a pink color… or is it just some clouds of red confetti still hanging around?... this is Publius Annæus Constantinus Placidus, Gnæus Cornelius Lentulus Maior and Gaius Claudius Quadratus thanking you all for joining us and signing off. Goodbye everybody, optime valete omnes, and see you all… hopefully… at the next Ludi!

P. Porcius Licinius A. Tulliae Scholasticae omnibusque S.P.D.

This morning's status report had no important news.  New Horizons will fly past Pluto tomorrow, pridie Idus, not quite two hours after noon, Roman time.  It will take 5 hours for the radio transmission to reach Earth.  (It would take a similar transmission from the Sun only 8 minutes and 20 seconds to reach us.)  NASA plans to analyze the data and make a report the following day, on the Ides, an hour after midnight Roman time.

Valete!