Italy’s Next Top Co-Blogger. ep. 2

April 3rd, 2011 | by: Marco | Comments Off

ARTICLE TWO.

Written by Fabrizio.

I might be the only one here but I “love” the Italian way of football i.e. – the catenaccio, over the brazilian samba. It’s a thing of beauty. They play to their strength (great defenders, average attackers) and remind me so much of Muhammad Ali doing his rope-a-dope. Another example is Italian managers who cite rule no. 1 as “don’t let them get you” & rule no. 2 as “a draw is better than a loss.”

A foreigner once remarked that in Italy, you can see young kids wanting to grow up to be the next great Italian defender. With this short introduction, I share two of my most memorable Italian football memories.

Euro 2000 was one of my more memorable evenings (even with the imperfect ending.)

With no Vieri & an overall average team, we had already exceeded the expectations by making it to the finals (based on some classic Italian defending & a rock of a goal-keeper). Watched & loved each and every minute till the final.

When Delvechhio scored, I could just see us lifting the long awaited cup. Italy up 1-0 with the Italian defense (& toldo behind them) holding firm, I was really in the mood. Del piero missed two sitters to close the game while france attacked in waves & numbers but I wasn’t bothered. 30 seconds from the final whistle & the camera on the Italian bench that was already up from their seats & celebrating in the anticipation of an Italian victory (a long awaited one too), wiltord scored the equalizer. My jaw dropped, along with Italian arms.

It was a cruel moment. When trezuget scored the golden goal in extra-time, it brought (what might have been) a beautiful evening to a harsh end. Years later, watching the world cup final in leh & seeing trezugent miss penalty to hand the world cup to the Italians, I felt a sense of justice being served. I felt a mix of relief & happiness just the same.

The night of “The Final”, I was in leh and all alone because of work. I remember the stomach churning feeling which I’d felt many times earlier (euro 2004-italy going out despite cassano’s goal, and his tears afterwards) returning to me when zidane scored that opening goal. When the penalty shoot-out started, our penalty shoot-out history came to mind.

When the entire thing was over (and just the shoot-out took a few years of my life) I remember sitting in my hotel room all alone feeling happy yet exhausted, with those previous memories washing away but could not express anything. Just sat there thinking if I had been in delhi right now, I would be screaming & shouting & not being able to make any sense of this thought. My first major Italian victory gave me happiness but in the oddest of ways.

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