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July 11, 2006
Forza Italia, l'ultima parte.
No way was I going to watch the World Cup final in isolation from the rest of the world. I had seen Italy played with heart in reaching the finals. It had reminded me of Serie A and how it was better at one time than the other leagues. Not wanting to cross bridges or go through tunnels for fear of unforeseen delay, Little Italy was the obvious choice.
Mulberry Street was already packed when we got there 2 hours before kick-off. It must have been many, many years since Little Italy had seen that many Italians and their friends.
Due to some miscommunication with a restaurant that professed to have many plasma screens, we had to change our lunch plans to be in a much better place where one didn’t have to pay a cover charge, drinks or anything. The bar was open, and with just a smile one can just come in and be welcomed – the owner looked more like doing community service than anything else. Chairs that did not match the interior were brought in to accommodate at least 50 guests who couldn’t manage to get seats on the sofas. The rest either sat or lied on the floor. Like a handful of lucky people who were in the know, we brought in outside food. Between N and I, we spent $20 on a pizza and courtesy drinks.
It was the World Cup final and nothing was better than being in the company of thousands of the winning side’s supporters. Every dribble savoured by the players were cheered on with ooohs and aahs… every mistake, met with cries of passionate frustration and the occasional slap on the forehead. The crowd inevitably and mercifully drowned the voices of the two clueless ESPN commentators, who had done nothing more than show the world their immature understanding of the sport.
Italy had won the match on penalties and the sun was shining on this small neighbourhood 4,000 miles from Berlin where it was already dark. Thousands filled the streets effectively closing them to traffic.
There were some confrontations with the NYPD, but quick arrests effectively contained the situations. Of course, revellers accused the authorities of not understanding the euphoria of a world event. And in protesting against the arrests, at least one person got arrested for over-zealously making her point.
Some kind soul offered us access to his building’s rooftop from which we soaked the sun and witnessed the celebrations. Red, White and Green confetti was scattered from the roof of another building.
The sun had turned orange. Someone had a barbeque started, but it was already time for us to leave. As we made our way through Mulberry once again, Little Italy was still filled with blue shirts, painted faces and six cups-full of awesomeness. Semplicemente. Bellissimo.
Posted by quickness at July 11, 2006 06:54 PM
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