Viva Italia!

I have never cared about a single sporting event like I did during the World Cup Final. I rushed home after church to catch the pre-game show. I put on an Italia shirt and hung my giant Italy flag from our balcony. I got out my small Italy flag and waved it around our apartment. I wished our Italian neighbors were still around and thought that we could all have a party together. Oh well. The excitement had begun. I was devastated when France got an early goal, from a penalty kick that may not have even been deserved. I lost hope early on, knowing that the first goal so often determines who will win, but Italy didn't make me sad for too long. With the game tied at 1-1 early on, I watched every play with excitement and nervousness and wondered how people do this on a day-to-day basis. I mean, I barely could do March Madness this year without taking some Valium before each game. I thought Italy was looking good after the first half, but the French certainly came back and dominated the second half. Italy's defense refused to surrender, however, and the game went into overtime. My heart was racing and I sat on the edge of the couch. Italy had a couple of very close shots, but nothing. I can't say I like it when a game ends with penalty kicks, but you gotta get a winner I suppose. I screamed and hollered and yelled to Joy in the other room to announce each penalty kick. And yes! Italy was on fire baby!!! When Italy won, I screamed and lept to my feet, running around the apartment yelling "Azzurri! Azzurri!" I then left the confines of our aparment (a little too small for a true celebration) and ran around the apartment complex with my flag, yelling up to people on the balconies that Italy had won the World Cup! Dreams were realized. Life was good. Joy and I then got in our car to go to Ravinia, the outdoor picnic-like setting of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. On the way, Joy waved the Italy flag out the window. Most people probably had no idea what we were doing, but there was this dear old lady who was driving next to us, who waved and started pumping her fist in excitement. We even took the Italy flag into the park with us and were able to tell many more about Italy's victory. I apologized to a German woman about their loss to the Italians, but I wove the flag proudly and with great honor. I thought about the night ahead for Rome and Milan and the rest of the nation. I actaully think for a few hours I became Italian. The World Cup was back in the hands of those people on the boot, not having won since the year of my birth, 1982. VIVA ITALIA!!! VIVA ITALIA!!! AZZURRI!!! AZZURRI!!! AZZURRI!!!