The Limited Times

Now you can see non-English news...

The celebration of the stateless

2022-11-25T01:43:58.160Z


I am an atypical Italian: I never fully understood the emotions of a fan, although I did learn to envy them


The Italian player Paolo Rossi lifts the World Cup trophy after beating the German team, 3-1, in the 1982 World Cup in Spain.getty

The night turned frantic in a moment, lights, flags, hugs, horns, voices.

Paolo Rossi, Paolo Rossi, Paolo Rossi.

What happened at the Santiago Bernabéu on July 11, 1982, and especially the celebration that followed, leaning out of the window of my parents' mini on an Adriatic beach, became my first emotional memory.

She certainly had no clear idea of ​​what was going on: she was going to turn four two weeks later.

But I like to think that that night my notion of joy was shaped, the gratification of seeing others enjoy, experiencing an ephemeral fulfillment for something that they did know and that, of course, I also wanted to know.

Soccer accompanied my childhood naturally.

The stickers, the prints or the

figurines

;

games in the school hallway with tinfoil balls during recess.

Foggy Sundays in the stands of the Ferrara stadium with my father to watch his team, the Sociedad Polideportiva Ars et Labor, or SPAL, which always evoked more of a workshop than a playing field.

I sympathized with Platini's Juve and later with Inter, because of that cliché that it is always more poetic to suffer a little.

Even so: I am an atypical Italian: deep down I never had any idea of ​​football nor did I fully understand the emotions of a fan.

Although I did learn to envy them.

And the only moments in which I touched them were some World Cups.

To a lesser extent, the Europeans.

I am on my way to completing half my life outside of Italy and, perhaps because of the alchemy of the feeling of belonging, I suffered and celebrated with the defeats and triumphs of my team.

However, now that I am not competing as happened four years ago in Russia, my status as a false stateless person is complicated.

The sporting event that moved me the most was Spain's victory in South Africa, which I experienced in the EL PAÍS newsroom in Madrid.

Probably the funniest ending in history, or at least in my history as a journalist.

In 2018 I lived in Bogotá and I felt devastated by the elimination of Colombia.

And this year I will be moved, again, with Spain and also with Mexico, the country where I live.

Sure: my position can be easily refuted, even hateful, for convenience.

Perhaps it is because, at this point, I have not understood football.

Or perhaps because what I really enjoy is seeing those around me enjoy and celebrate, like that night in 1982. That is the company, a derivative of the game, and that is also a feeling of belonging.

And, after all, because I envy you, dear fans.

Subscribe here

to our special newsletter about the World Cup in Qatar

Source: elparis

All sports articles on 2022-11-25

You may like

Trends 24h

Latest

© Communities 2019 - Privacy

The information on this site is from external sources that are not under our control.
The inclusion of any links does not necessarily imply a recommendation or endorse the views expressed within them.