WHY do WE care for THAT Soccer Ball.
May 31 '02 (Updated Jun 03 '02)
The Bottom Line I care for that ball that's about to be kicked right now. I'll care till June 30th. FORZA AZZURRI!!!!!
All right, go ahead; label me with all the off-topics you want. I could care less right now. Do you honestly think I can wait to write this review? Do you think I can wait for Epinions to open, if ever, a category on the World Cup that's about to begin - in one exact hour, actually - and NOT COME HERE AND WRITE ABOUT IT ON THE SPUR OF THE MOMENT??
How to care for Soccer Balls.
Unlike most Italians, I usually don't. And I'm lucky enough to have a boyfriend who generally loathes the game, a white fly among Italian men who are unavailable to the rest of the world each and every Sunday - or at least, that's how it used to be. For now, what with postponed games, Saturday Evening games, Champion's League, UEFA Cup, most men are glued to their couches and hypnotized by the TV set or yelling in the stadiums at least twice a week. Take my brother, for instance; he's a huge Roma team fan. He travels all over Italy to watch his team. His mood depends on whether Totti struck a goal, where the Roma is positioned in the league table, who has been admonished and will not be able to play the next game. I’ve come to terms with him, and have been instructed, by osmosis, on who are the best current players and coaches, on all technical notions, tactical formations, strategies, and still haven’t been infected by the Soccer disease.
But the World Championship is different. It's always been. It’s a plague.
That ball that’s about to be kicked in Seoul at the France-Senegal game that officially opens the World Cup Tournament is important to all of us who live in Italy. Every four years, we live the dream of seeing our mascots kiss that cup. Every year, we awaken from our dream, disillusioned once again. But we indulge in that dream time and time again, nevertheless.
Spain, 1982. I was twelve when the Italian team was last declared World Champion. I can still recall all the names of the members of that team: Zoff, Causio, Gentile, Conti, Causio, Altobelli, Tardelli, Cabrini, Rossi... I can still recall every game vividly as it were yesterday, undeletable photographs in the back of my mind. All Italians can. We still reminiscence the Italy- Brazil and Italy- RDF games as though they were yesterday’s matches. I have pictures of me, hanging in my living room; in the midst of a roaring crowd, standing on my dad’s car with my face pained in tri-colored stripes, dressed with a white sheet toga, and a laurel crown on my head.
Alas, that was twenty years ago. And since then, we have all rejoiced madly, have wept atrociously, have yelled incontrollably, have stared at the video unable to utter a single word, have felt as powerful and as defeated as if we were the true, actual protagonists of the tournament. We are all rooting for our National team, we are all experts, all mad supporters, all Italians once again. We are caught in that dream. Once again. All of us.
The FIFA cup is the one thing that brings ALL ITALIANS TOGETHER.
During the last time Italians were robbed of the dream of being World Champions, the games were mostly in the afternoon or in the evening. Whenever Italy was playing, all activities came to a halt for two hours. We had a television in our office, and we would take all phones off the hook, gather around the TV set and go totally wild for two hours straight. We were twelve women.
We watched the title slip from our hands, we sobbed like babies when our pal Roberto Baggio didn’t kick that ball correctly during penalties, we stood in disbelief for quite a while, then vowed for revenge upon the next tournament. We watched the hosts of the World Cup win four years later, against us and at penalties again, listened to them making fun of their Italian cousins, and in return, we gave into the thought that the French deserved the title the year they were hosting the games.
(We didn't get over them winning the European Championship, however; that's why today our tolerance towards them has whittled away, replaced by feelings of disdain and contempt).
But, no matter what happened then, we all wanted Baggio back this year, we wanted him to avenge for that mistake that unanimously has been considered our ultimate defeat four years ago. He wasn’t summoned. Nonetheless, we all ADORE our Italian team. They are the perfect, the most brilliant representatives of our National sport ever since that glorious, legendary team that blessed us with the title twenty years ago.
All Italians, women and men alike, know and love practically all of the Italian Soccer players who have been called upon by our most beloved-ever coach, Giovanni Trapattoni. They are definitely qualified, tactically, to be considered one of the strongest teams in the tournament. The defense the Italian team boasts, with Paolo Maldini, Fabio Cannavaro, Alessandro Nesta, Marco Materazzi, is to be considered one of the best in the world. Strikers Christian Vieri, Francesco Totti, Vincenzo Montella, Alessandro Del Piero are all close to becoming mythical attackers in Italian Soccer history.
However, there’s much more to their skills going for them at this point. The Italian team is, truly, the first All-Stars team we’ve ever had in recent times. They are all extremely attractive and handsome, and are considered role models by teenager boys and heartthrobs by women of all ages. They are so exposed, they hold far more of a public profile than any other players before them. They appear constantly in TV shows, are credited with small parts in movies, often sponsor commercials of all sorts, and are all-around celebrities. All of them are recognized by everyone as household presences. It’s the first time an entire team is so appealing to all ages, all genders, being soccer fans or not. And of course, an added bonus is the coach’s image in Italy; Giovanni Trapattoni is definitely the most charming, funny and beloved coach Italy can remember of in the past few years. So, what more can you ask for? They’re all beautiful, notorious, talented, even self-ironic. You can’t resist them. They’re winners already.
That’s why all Italian companies have agreed to allow their employees two hours of PTO during the Italian matches in the South Korea/Japan 2002 World Cup tournament, and when games, such as today, are held at lunch hour, the lunch break will be extended for an extra hour so that everyone can enjoy most of the championship without having to resort to expedients. Cafeterias are featuring take-away trays. All bars and fast-food joints are equipped with wide-screen TV sets. Radios are all synchronized and will be airing the games live.
Of course, coach Trapattoni has a lot of pressure on his shoulders, for given the premises anything less than a semifinal will mark the Italian team with a black notice of failure among the hardcore soccer fanatics. With all the amazing cards he has to play, it appears almost impossible for them not to climb up the ladder during the first rounds of the tournament.
However, the dream has never been as colorful and exciting as it is today. The roads are already deserted, offices are vacant, everyone is in first line right now rooting against our worst enemies – our neighbors, France, who are widely considered to be the most probable winners along with our national team and Argentina.
I’m joining in on the fun. I can’t resist insulting the French snobs! Half of their team isn't even a native.
So let the games begin; it's 1:44, and the first ball has already been kicked. We'll see just how bad this new FIFA Soccer Ball really is, for it's been the object of many a controversy lately. We'll see if the French can live up to their title, or if the Nigerians are worthy of being called the surprise team of the year.
May the best one win.
I sure hope it’s my team in the end, but they’ve won in my heart anyway, no matter how they perform.
Close to fifty million Italians care a whole lot for that FIFA Soccer Ball.
======
Uh-oh.
Just so you know. Today, at 1,30 P.M. local time, Italy won against their first antagonists, Ecuador, for 2-0. My favorites were the best ones on the field; Totti served, Vieri scored. What more could I ask for?
The dream lives on. Hopefully, it'll be a long and pleasant dream.
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Epinions.com ID:
elsa70
|
|
Location: Ciao, baby.
Reviews written: 33
Trusted by: 24 members
About Me:
temporarily out of order. ZZZZZZZ.
|
|
|
© 1999-2009 Shopping.com, Inc.