Mi Amici Italiano - Watching the World Cup on Board
July 14, 2010 2:30pm eastern time
On Air Club - Deck 3.
Freedom of the Seas
Italy v Paraguay
I arrived at the bar at 2:15pm hoping to get a seat. I was alone except the animated bar tender eager to talk soccer with someone. I ordered a diet rum and coke and he talked about is beloved Honduran team. By 2:20pm several others had arrived. Perhaps an hour or so earlier I had come across the Italians out on Deck 12 all taking turns on the Flow Rider - they were easily identifiable not because of dress or appearence, but because of the excited and somewhat vulgar language they were all shouting at each other in their excitement in surfing the artificial waves aboard the Freedom.
Surely they'd come watch the biggest game for Gli Azzurri since 2006 when the World Cup was captured. What was I thinking? Italians arriving on time?
Alas, about a minute before the national anthem was played, they arrived - all 20 of them. Young Italian couples. They instantly doubled the population of the lounge and took seats about 5 feet behind me. They announced their arrival with a simple "FORZA ITALIA!" and many in the room, including me, responded in kind. Besides one Uruguayan and one German, the room was clearly in favor of the world champs. An American family arrived and sat to my left - one of the "soccer dad's" became quite the know it all throughout the match but really only exhibited his ignorance. That guy probably coaches baseball and basketball too so that makes him an expert.
As the TV showed each Italian player during the anthems, the Italians called out their names and debated in Italian the choices for the starting line up. Quando Gennarro? Iaquinta? Ah bastardo!! Some of the comments I could not understand. When the view on the TV switched to the individual Paraguayan players, the comments were quite simple "ahh shit!.... ah shit! ah shit!" as they made fun of each player.
10 minutes or so into the match, the first call against Italy happened and this is when the ice was broken between me and the Italians. One of them cursed loudly and then noticed as I laughed. He tapped me on the shoulder and asked "Parle Italiano?"
I explained that I did speak "un po (a little)" but that I did understand many curse words. Not much else was really said until half time - we were all intently watching the match.
The cursing certainly continued - the ref was called many things related to female anatomy, told to go sodomize himself, and of course origins of his birth were called into question. As for the Italian players - they were quickly praised for good play "Bella!" and instantly told to die a slow painful death in hell for sloppy play - and quickly cannonized for good play again. Love/hate relationship defines Gli Azzurri and the common Italian fan. On the 39th minute, Paraguay scored and the insults and declarations to God grew really loud. A few of the Italians left the room swearing they were done for the day. Their self directed exile lasted about 35 seconds.
Half time came - our new friendship was solidified a bit more - we discussed roots with my family in the Veneto and in Tuscany. This particular group was from Perugia - a few others in the room were from Roma. The Perugians were all enjoying Peroni beers so I joined them hoping the switch from rum would inspire Gli Azzurri. It sure was interesting to hear their opinions of the first half - and since Italy was not winning, Marcelo Lippi, the Italian manager, was condemned for his choice of players (mostly Juventus players whom Lippi has strong roots). If the Italians won, would Lippi quickly become a master again?
The second half wasn't much different except the insults came a bit more often as the Italians remained behind. The annoying soccer dad had made several dumb observations about Italian soccer in general and erred mightily in explaining off sides rules to others. I think had my "amici" listed to this idiot, a war might have ensued. Thankfully the know it all left and took his ill informed brilliance with him.
The game remained tense, the Italians needed to score. Finally about half way through the second half, the Italians broke through. A very loud cheer announced the score by Daniele De Rossi - dances broke out, kisses were made, proposals for marriage were had, a baby might have been conceived and dozen or so more Peroni were instantly ordered. La festa italiana was alive and well. I think I was adopted by two or three of them. My head was rubbed at least once. Pictures were taken. The international symbol "we're number 1" was made over and over. The Italians are fun people when they are happy. De Rossi had scored, the Italians were happy.
Sadly the game ended - the Azzurri had to settle for a tie against a very skilled Paraguayan team. I was able to get a group shot with my Perugian friends - I was sure we'd see each other again somewhere on deck.
The reality was, I only saw one or two of them the rest of the week. I ran into a few more Romans while on the beach in Cozumel - they adored Alyssa's blue eyes and were quite familiar with the goods that come from Bassano del Grappa. But my 90 minutes or so celebrating il gioco di calcio, the beautiful game, the copa mundial with this group was most definitely a fun highlight of the cruise.
July 14, 2010 2:30pm eastern time
On Air Club - Deck 3.
Freedom of the Seas
Italy v Paraguay
I arrived at the bar at 2:15pm hoping to get a seat. I was alone except the animated bar tender eager to talk soccer with someone. I ordered a diet rum and coke and he talked about is beloved Honduran team. By 2:20pm several others had arrived. Perhaps an hour or so earlier I had come across the Italians out on Deck 12 all taking turns on the Flow Rider - they were easily identifiable not because of dress or appearence, but because of the excited and somewhat vulgar language they were all shouting at each other in their excitement in surfing the artificial waves aboard the Freedom.
Surely they'd come watch the biggest game for Gli Azzurri since 2006 when the World Cup was captured. What was I thinking? Italians arriving on time?
Alas, about a minute before the national anthem was played, they arrived - all 20 of them. Young Italian couples. They instantly doubled the population of the lounge and took seats about 5 feet behind me. They announced their arrival with a simple "FORZA ITALIA!" and many in the room, including me, responded in kind. Besides one Uruguayan and one German, the room was clearly in favor of the world champs. An American family arrived and sat to my left - one of the "soccer dad's" became quite the know it all throughout the match but really only exhibited his ignorance. That guy probably coaches baseball and basketball too so that makes him an expert.
As the TV showed each Italian player during the anthems, the Italians called out their names and debated in Italian the choices for the starting line up. Quando Gennarro? Iaquinta? Ah bastardo!! Some of the comments I could not understand. When the view on the TV switched to the individual Paraguayan players, the comments were quite simple "ahh shit!.... ah shit! ah shit!" as they made fun of each player.
10 minutes or so into the match, the first call against Italy happened and this is when the ice was broken between me and the Italians. One of them cursed loudly and then noticed as I laughed. He tapped me on the shoulder and asked "Parle Italiano?"
I explained that I did speak "un po (a little)" but that I did understand many curse words. Not much else was really said until half time - we were all intently watching the match.
The cursing certainly continued - the ref was called many things related to female anatomy, told to go sodomize himself, and of course origins of his birth were called into question. As for the Italian players - they were quickly praised for good play "Bella!" and instantly told to die a slow painful death in hell for sloppy play - and quickly cannonized for good play again. Love/hate relationship defines Gli Azzurri and the common Italian fan. On the 39th minute, Paraguay scored and the insults and declarations to God grew really loud. A few of the Italians left the room swearing they were done for the day. Their self directed exile lasted about 35 seconds.
Half time came - our new friendship was solidified a bit more - we discussed roots with my family in the Veneto and in Tuscany. This particular group was from Perugia - a few others in the room were from Roma. The Perugians were all enjoying Peroni beers so I joined them hoping the switch from rum would inspire Gli Azzurri. It sure was interesting to hear their opinions of the first half - and since Italy was not winning, Marcelo Lippi, the Italian manager, was condemned for his choice of players (mostly Juventus players whom Lippi has strong roots). If the Italians won, would Lippi quickly become a master again?
The second half wasn't much different except the insults came a bit more often as the Italians remained behind. The annoying soccer dad had made several dumb observations about Italian soccer in general and erred mightily in explaining off sides rules to others. I think had my "amici" listed to this idiot, a war might have ensued. Thankfully the know it all left and took his ill informed brilliance with him.
The game remained tense, the Italians needed to score. Finally about half way through the second half, the Italians broke through. A very loud cheer announced the score by Daniele De Rossi - dances broke out, kisses were made, proposals for marriage were had, a baby might have been conceived and dozen or so more Peroni were instantly ordered. La festa italiana was alive and well. I think I was adopted by two or three of them. My head was rubbed at least once. Pictures were taken. The international symbol "we're number 1" was made over and over. The Italians are fun people when they are happy. De Rossi had scored, the Italians were happy.
Sadly the game ended - the Azzurri had to settle for a tie against a very skilled Paraguayan team. I was able to get a group shot with my Perugian friends - I was sure we'd see each other again somewhere on deck.
The reality was, I only saw one or two of them the rest of the week. I ran into a few more Romans while on the beach in Cozumel - they adored Alyssa's blue eyes and were quite familiar with the goods that come from Bassano del Grappa. But my 90 minutes or so celebrating il gioco di calcio, the beautiful game, the copa mundial with this group was most definitely a fun highlight of the cruise.
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