The evening experienced by the fans who filled the Roman stadium. Dybala’s goal explosion then uncertainty eats away at enthusiasm. And in the end it’s pain, like 39 years ago
June 1 – Rome
It ends in tears. But it’s not joy, it’s disappointment. Big, gigantic. Paulo Dybala, the author of the opening goal, is crying in the middle of the stadium in Budapest. He cries at the Puskas Arena and the “his of him” Olympic. Almost to compensate him, to tell him we love you. Then the team goes under the curve in Budapest and in Rome they continue to applaud. No, so no, it can’t be. Cursed penalties, still them. Like 39 years ago. And to think that everything had been so beautiful: the eve, the waiting, the beginning, Francesco Totti who “posts” the choreography with the gigantic “Sons of the wolf”, a fantastic collection of smiles before starting, many premonitory signs, the feeling of a magical evening, the Giallorossi hymns sung at the top of their voice. Until Dybala’s goal, and who else but him. All perfect. A night of fairy tales, however, turned into tears. There was also the middle story, the story of the two stadiums: Ferenc Puskas, after whom the Arena of the Hungarian capital is named, scored the first brace of the long novel of the Olympic stadium in the 3-0 that the national team gave him ‘Italy. Maybe from up there he could have said a few words. A “treat Rome well to me”. But no. But now there is another piece of history, sadly much better known, which fills tonight the dream that has become a nightmare, the bloody penalties of Roma-Liverpool.
More Romanists
—
No, no, it can’t be. On the streets of Budapest, and later in the stadium, the numerical supremacy of the Giallorossi fans had become overwhelming over the hours. Choirs, scarves and beers without exceeding in the meeting points set up by UEFA, the Fan Festival in Piazza degli Eroi (here the two fans even mixed) and the exclusively Romanist Fan Zone in the City Park. The former Perrotta, Cassetti and Rizzitelli also took to the stage here, launching the latest “Roma Roma Roma”, a sort of delivery of the baton passed on to today’s players. An overwhelming cry, almost as if they wanted to physically push Mourinho’s boys towards success. The procession of fans, supervised by the Hungarian police, was very lively but composed. The only moment of tension came from some incidents in which three fans were injured, including a Spaniard and a Swede who were involved in a fight near the stadium with seven Poles arrested, probably ultras from Slask Wroclaw, a historical rival of Sevilla .
“Ours!”
—
No, no, it can’t be. With an Olimpico that suddenly filled up, just like the Spanish stadiums do. With that first shot of the Giallorossi fans in Budapest which produced the first round of applause with the speaker saying: “These are ours!”. And then the first roar at the zoom on Mourinho, the broken scream at the very occasional Spinazzola, the hopeful silences at the moment of the Var for the intervention on Abraham which made the penalty shout out. And then that goal that seemed to have solved everything and instead hadn’t solved anything yet as Mourinho said with that gesture like: “Calm down, nothing happened”.
The crossroads
—
No, no, it can’t be. Even if at some point it became clear that something was changing. At the end of the first half there was the Sevilla post hit by Rakitic, greeted in a curiously different way between Rome (where it was experienced as a near goal due to the narrow escape) and Budapest (where instead the Roma fans taken with that interminable recovery). Then the restart with Mancini’s own goal and that growing feeling of unease, as if at a certain point the worry and uncertainty had slowly eaten up all the triumphal enthusiasm with which the whole day had been lived. And with the Andalusians, even in the stands, capable of plucking up courage and even trying to question the cheering contest.
Betrayal
—
No, it can’t be like that. Even the best-known faces of the Giallorossi fans in the Hungarian stadium must have thought so – Edoardo Leo, Diego Bianchi, Antonello Venditti, Damiano dei Maneskin, Blanco, Noemi, Valerio Mastandrea – and the gaze of the mayor Roberto Gualtieri, who was also on the road that was worth a season. What a strange football. In his perfidious ability to transform joy into disappointment that now imprisons all looks and words. And that it will be difficult to forget even for that way, the cruelty of the penalty kicks, with which he brings down the nightmare of 39 years ago from the attic.
June 1st – 10.17am
© REPRODUCTION RESERVED
