I came down to the final Sunday of the season. When all of you were fixated on who would battle for the right to play in the finals of the NBA, all eyes here in Italia were on “Viola” Florence’s beloved soccer team.
As a brief recap, the crown jewel in European soccer is to have the honor of playing in “Champions League”. Entrance to Champions League comes from finishing in the top four teams in your respective country in the previous season. Therefore Fiorentina (Viola) has been playing the likes of Roma, Milan, Inter and Juventus all year for the right to earn a spot in Champions League next year and to compete with countries all over Europe like Manchester United, Chelsea and Madrid.
Heading into the final game of the season, Fiorentina held a slim two point lead over Milan for fourth place. A win by Fiorentina at Torino would secure them the fourth position and send the city of Florence into an uproar as it would be the teams first time in champions league in six years.
A loss or a tie combined with a victory by Milan over Udinese would spell another heartbreaking end for Viola.
I decided that there would be no better way to enjoy such a huge match than to make my way into the center of the city on a Sunday afternoon, find a bar and watch the game with the crazy soccer fans of Florence. The game was only on pay TV and we didn’t receive it at the castle anyway.
Perhaps the most shocking thing for me was that it took me nearly a half hour of walking the city streets to find a bar that had the game on! I was totally puzzled by the lack of availability.
I finally settled in at a pub near Santa Croce mid way through the first half and in the span of 20 minutes witnessed three of the greatest saves that I have ever seen a goalie make. The problem was that the goalie played for Torino and when the half ended in a zero/zero tie, that all too familiar feeling that we sports fans feel of lost opportunity coming back to bite you in the end was circulating through the streets of Florence. The only saving grace was that Udinese was beating Milan at half time 1-0 and a loss by Milan would make the results of Fiorentina’s match irrelevant.
The second half started much like the first, with Fiorentina applying all the pressure and the match taking place near the Torino goal, but Viola continued to come up empty. Then, the energy level of the city shifted to panic as the score was flashed on the TV, that Milan had taken a commanding 3-1 lead! With only 15 minutes left in the match Fiorentina was faced with the grim reality that a 0-0 tie would result in another series of dashed hopes for them and their fateful fans. I was getting tired of devoting so much time to watch a team that I seemed to have jinxed from scoring goals (I had now viewed nearly three full games this year and had yet to see a goal scored by Fiorentina!)
Meanwhile, it was time for me to use the boys room as the two Corona’s I had consumed were ready to be flushed from my system. As I entered the grungy, tiny bathroom at the back of the pub and settled into the only wall urinal available, the sound of bedlam erupted behind me! What had happened I thought? Oh shit, don’t tell me that they scored and I missed it? I wanted to immediately race back out into the bar and see what had happened as the celebration continued, but couldn’t risk the damage to my prostate by stopping mid stream (You guys know what I mean!)
When I got back to the bar, the people were still hugging each other and going crazy. I looked up at the old TV hanging from the ceiling and saw the replay. For those of you that are sports fans, I must tell you that in a sport that sees so few goals, I cant imagine a more dramatic experience than the way that Fiorentina scored.
One of its players brought the ball up the right wing and kicked a high lob pass into the center of the field just inside the goalie box. There were only two players there to receive the pass, one was on Torino and the other on Fiorentina. The Fiorentina player grabbed the pass with his left foot as if he had Velcro attached to his shoe. Kicking it to himself, just slightly above his head and with his back to the goal, he leaped into the air and threw his head back, while lifting his right leg to the sky. The result was a complete back flip while kicking the ball with his right foot (Which was elevated above all other parts of his body) on a line drive into the upper right corner of the net!!! Its called a bicycle kick and those that have ever seen one know that its one of the more acrobatic scenes in sports.
As the clock winded down the fans began to sense their team’s destiny. When the officials blew the final whistle they went crazy in the streets of Florence. “Champions League 2008 here we come!
There were a few observations that I had that afternoon as I walked through the streets back to my car. Both of them made me a bit sad.
The first was that Florence is not the people’s city any more. There were far too many people walking the streets of Florence that afternoon that had no idea what had just taken place. It was far too difficult for me to find a bar with the game on. Why? Because Florence is a city that is run by the tourists. In Chicago, New York, Boston, San Francisco or LA, the inhabitants of these great American Cities would have dominated the landscape and the sights and sounds of a Sunday afternoon of Sport would have dwarfed all other interests. Instead, the Florentines were confined in their houses to watch the game on their little TV’s. Their city is no longer really theirs.
The other emotion that raced through me was that of loneliness, as I watched the dozens of motorinos and cars zooming through the city’s narrow streets with banners and flags celebrating their teams victory. As much as I wanted to participate in the celebration, I just didn’t belong. I was an outsider. In fact as hard as I have tried this past year to adapt and fit in and as much as I have wanted to believe in some way that I am an adopted Florentine, I realized that afternoon that I am nothing more than a guest on an extended stay in this amazing city. A tourist who has been blessed to spend so much time in one place.
As I walked across the Arno that afternoon, with the sound of horns honking behind me growing more and more faint, I realized something else important…
I’m an American, specifically an Angelino and I’m dam proud of that fact…
No comments:
Post a Comment