A white-haired man, skin the color of cognac stained leather, wears a full-sized Italian flag as a make-shift scarf. The energy is contagious, the chairs buzzing, reverberating the chanting and eventually the cheers at the shot on goal.
I can't make out the complete phrases, but one doesn't need to understand the grammatical functions of the language tonight. Tonight we speak one language--and it involves embraces and high-fives; jubilant cheers and boisterous boos.
Balotelli breaks away from the defender, he cuts toward the goal and his teammate kicks a beautiful pass to the center--its arc clean and precise. Balotelli hits the ball with the force of his forehead, his face laden with anguish and desperate hope--as if he could will the ball in if he prayed hard enough. A man sitting behind us calls out 'Mamma mia!' Wait...they actually say that here? The ball spins off his head and curves perfectly in the goal.Nothing but net. And we exhale, and realize we've been holding our breath this entire time. The crowd erupts. And it feels good to be a part of the commotion for once.
Observations during the Italy vs. Germany EuroCup Game. We watched it in Santa Theresa in the public plaza with hundreds of spectators.