In the 1983 Italian movie, Zeder, a young journalist discovers that the ribbon of an old typewriter he has recently bought still retains the imprint of a story written by its previous owner.
As he slowly pieces together the words he discovers it to be a macabre tale that lures him into the world of the dead and the undead, until his existence is nothing but dread and fear.
And the Vancouver Whitecaps 1-0 defeat to the Colorado Rapids was a bit like that.
Not the dead and the undead, fear and dread parts (although feel free to insert your own jokes here if you wish) but rather the idea that the substance of this team is still as indistinct as the the faded words on an abandoned typewriter ribbon.
Marc Dos Santos is still struggling to make his side into anything we would call meaningful. They are a ghost that has yet to be born, the echo of a song that is yet to be sung.
And the game on Sunday was full of echoes.
The inability to build on good results by losing to a team that was in a slump. The reluctance of the midfield to get forward. The insistence that the best players to play the searching forward balls were the two central defenders.
But the most haunting thing of all was the unwillingness to play the brave pass. The reluctance to challenge the opponent with anything other than a set piece or a pounced on error.
This wasn’t helped by the decison to play Caio Alexandre (roundly touted as a a box to box midfielder) in the number ten role, nor was it helped by asking Russell Teibert to play the Baldisimo role and dictate the play from deep.
Maybe, on another night, the Whitecaps would have won this game with a couple of set piece goals but that would have distracted from the fundamental flaws that still remain.
It was disappointing to see Vancouver once again shrink from the opportunity to gain a statement win that would have set them up nicely for the early part of the season.
But it was more troubling to watch yet another game where Dos Santos was incapable of sending out a team that could create chances from open play.
The words on his typewriter ribbon are growing feinter with each day that passes. But what if it turns out those words don’t form a tale that makes sense? What if they are just the random tappings of a malevolent spirit?
That would leave us all with nothing to do but scream helplessly into the endless void.
Time for the Soccer Shorts player ratings!
Crepeau-6*, Nerwinski-2, Veselinovic-3.5, Rose-3.5, Guttierez-5, Teibert-4, Bikel-3.5, Dajome-5, Caicedo-4.5, Alexandre- 3, Cavallini-4.5
Soccer Shorts (The Director's Cut) 