Monday, 2 July 2012

football fever part 5...the (big) loss...

Well. What can I say? You all know the score from last night. I won't dwell on that part too much. But, as a (dedicated) blogger, I am going to divulge what I saw and heard, during and after the match. Being the only person in the town who wasn't actually completely gutted after/directly affected by the loss means I can give a neutral account. Ish. Possibly. Anyway, read on for some of my observations...

Poor Balotelli.(
Before the game started, the flags came out and the big screens were set up everywhere, even in a little town like mine. And the horn beeping started about an hour before. 

Some personal linguistic highlights were 'vai caccare!!' (go sh*t), 'bastardi!!' (well, I'm sure you can guess that one) and towards the end, simply 'meeeehhhhhhh!!'

One of my friends had to go outside for a ciggy after the first goal was scored. Needless to say, he had a few more as the game went on. 

Everyone had taken to calling Balotelli simply 'Mario'. Unfortunately he wasn't so super this time. 

'Busquets' sounds like biscuits. This  may have made me smile. 

Did anyone else see the near shorts-pulling-down moment? I did. Don't ask me who it was between (as, clearly, I only remember names which are mildly amusing to me) but as it happened, I may have let out a little 'woooo'. Needless to say, nobody else joined me on this one. 

And I may have 'wooooo'ed again after Balotelli gave us another glimpse of that washboard stomach just before half time. Again, I was alone on this one (although I was mostly with guys).

I did feel a genuine sense of dismay when the 3rd and 4th goals were scored. I must really be getting attached to this place.

What happened when the going got tough? The pizza. Yes, there was a half time pizza dash.

Cassano's hair looked a bit hedgehog-y. 

I'm not an expert on football (well, duh), but I think I'm right in saying that the Spaniards were running...and the Italians were taking a bit of stroll. I know the Italians are laid back people, and this is something I love about them, but in the Euro 2012 final?!

Buffon, although stuck with a rather ridiculous name, actually looks like a really decent chap.

Needless to say, when the match had finished, any sense of joy was somewhat lacking. The Italians were understandably absolutely gutted. But they still went out, and despite the absence of hooting car horns and banner waving, they put on a brave face and went for beer and ice cream. I still heard a couple of digs at England (eeek how long will I have to deal with that?!) but the Italians had just lost the final, of course they were annoyed. I took the high road and didn't point out the fact that they had just lost too.

This time, it was my turn to buy the boyfriend some dolce. Gelato may not make up for a loss in the final, but it does taste bloody good. 

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