"Yeah, baby. We already got the flag up and everything!"
And we were lucky to get reservations at Ciao Bella to see the Cup, since the trickle of people became a torrent just before the game began. K and I felt like impostors, a pollack and an Irish-English hybrid with just a smidgen of (gasp!) French Canadian in her blood. Fortunately, no one asked to see our papers, and we had our own Italian American along to vouch for us.
Fact is, most folks there probably don't speak a lick of Italian beyond what they learned on The Sopranos, although we did have a real, honest-to-god Italian couple sitting at the table in front of us. And were they happy when that last Penalty Kick flew in. Most folks there seemed happy to be there, but a few guys, one already sporting a black eye, kept shouting at the French players.
The whole place erupted in cheers and ecstatic shouting, flags flew into the air from bags and purses, and we got the hell out before anything could happen. Not that anything did. As soon as we hit the street, a couple of guys on a Vespa sped past, honking their horn and waving a big Italian tricolor. Horns honked, people cheered in the streets. High fives for all, whether real Italian or just Italian for a day.
No better place in the US to watch Italy beat France, except maybe Boston or New York. But hey, we finally found something to like about Baltimore.
As for me, it was great to finally pick the right team. After a month of watching more soccer than I've ever watched before, of sitting helpless as the US, Polish and Mexican teams all went down in flames, finally that GOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!! went in the right net. And it doesn't hurt the US team that they actually managed to keep the eventual World Cup winners to a tie.
So, you mean I have to wait another 4 years for more?
1 comment:
tell me about it... i already miss it.
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