Let me just start this post by saying that, in all honesty, I don't even like football that much. No really. I don't support a UK team, I don't have a clue who half of the England players are, and I know it's shameful to admit, but I'm not too clued up on the rules either. Yet, when the awful possibility of an England- Italy match came up, I suddenly got interested. In that I didn't want this match to take place. Why? Well, you saw my previous post. Italians are passionate, loud, excitable people who use any excuse for a massive celebration. And why shouldn't they? But the thought of being the only England supporter in a town full of horn beeping, flag waving, over-excited Italians did not sound too good.
So yesterday evening started calmly enough. I tried to keep my mouth shut, and stay cool, calm and collected- like a true Brit, if you will. I watched the match with a group of friends (about 16 or so) at another friend's house. Surely this would be more tolerable than at a big screen venue? Well, not really. Because as the jibes started ('God kill the queen') and the Italians got louder and louder (all in a confined space, may I add), I really started to want England to win. As the time ticked on and the match came to a nil-nil end, tensions were very high indeed. My calm exterior was starting to become somewhat strained. Just the thought of how much noise would be made if Italy scored was scaring me somewhat. The Irish one kept reassuring me that it would go to penalties and England would get it. So as extra time rolled to an end, I had hope. But as the number of goals increased for Italy, I braced myself.
'ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!'
It was all over. On penalties. The boyfriend was trying his best to be comforting while looking like he wanted to jump up and down with glee. Bless him. Then the fireworks, horns and shouting really began, as we got into the centre of town.
But I don't even like football!! Why do I care?! Well, as my fellow expats will know, the blow of a major sporting event loss is bad enough when you are in your home country, surrounded by other supporters and friends. But being in a different country, and the winning team's country no less, is something else completely! Being on my own made me all the more aware of it all. Sore loser? Possibly. Major complainer? Oh definitely. But post-match, a little moping was necessary. However, I'm pretty confident that the Italians won't go on about it too much. They like to make their thoughts clear, but then normally, all is forgotten and everyone is friends again. Hopefully. ;)
So who are Italy going to be playing next? Germany. Italy v Germany on Thursday. And who will I be supporting? Well, I think Italy. I simply can't stay mad at them. Italy is now my home, and the Italian way of life is definitely for me, even when I'm on the losing team. And besides, I think they will need all the support they can get against Germany... ;D
So yesterday evening started calmly enough. I tried to keep my mouth shut, and stay cool, calm and collected- like a true Brit, if you will. I watched the match with a group of friends (about 16 or so) at another friend's house. Surely this would be more tolerable than at a big screen venue? Well, not really. Because as the jibes started ('God kill the queen') and the Italians got louder and louder (all in a confined space, may I add), I really started to want England to win. As the time ticked on and the match came to a nil-nil end, tensions were very high indeed. My calm exterior was starting to become somewhat strained. Just the thought of how much noise would be made if Italy scored was scaring me somewhat. The Irish one kept reassuring me that it would go to penalties and England would get it. So as extra time rolled to an end, I had hope. But as the number of goals increased for Italy, I braced myself.
'ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!'
It was all over. On penalties. The boyfriend was trying his best to be comforting while looking like he wanted to jump up and down with glee. Bless him. Then the fireworks, horns and shouting really began, as we got into the centre of town.
But I don't even like football!! Why do I care?! Well, as my fellow expats will know, the blow of a major sporting event loss is bad enough when you are in your home country, surrounded by other supporters and friends. But being in a different country, and the winning team's country no less, is something else completely! Being on my own made me all the more aware of it all. Sore loser? Possibly. Major complainer? Oh definitely. But post-match, a little moping was necessary. However, I'm pretty confident that the Italians won't go on about it too much. They like to make their thoughts clear, but then normally, all is forgotten and everyone is friends again. Hopefully. ;)
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| So, this happened. |
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| Then I went home and ate some of these. Mmm, self-pity pastries..... ;) |
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