Last night was the much-anticipated Italy vs. Germany soccer match for the European Cup. Obviously an event not to be missed, right? So off to Pianegiani I went, nearly an hour early to ensure a good spot.
Nursing my prosecco and almonds, I watched the piazza fill; it was crammed by about 8:50, but people did keep coming and crushing in.
A few notes. The beginning featured both national anthems, and I was struck by the enormous differences in the music and in each countryman's approach to his anthem. Italy went first. It is a light, syncopated, and rather operatic anthem. Some people at Pianegiani stood, but most remained seated. No hands on heart or anything like that. Sergio started the local singalong, and it was just about exactly that: a little song that everyone knew and sang lightheartedly, embracing each other, teasing each other with vocal exaggerations, and generally having fun together. It was quite interesting and very sweet. Even the more martial sections were sung without being taken too seriously. I recalled that most of the soccer players sang with a bit of a smile as well, arms wrapped around each other.
And then came Germany. Stately, ponderous, certainly heartfelt. This was a song NOT to be trifled with in any way, and any deviations would seemingly have been rather frowned upon. Lovely in its own right to see the passion of the players, but a very different experience.
And the match? This was beyond doubt the most exciting match I've ever seen. I'm not a soccer fan per se, but I must say that I was screaming with the rest at the end! Starting with a goal by Germany (crisis! Wailing! Gnashing of teeth!), Italy managed to tie before the end of the game (thanks to a handball call against the opposition...much rejoicing! Much stress! Must get that other goal!). The first half resembled choreographed tumbling as much as soccer, although not many penalties were handed out. Then came the second half. If they weren't deliberately trying to trip each other (as of course the players claimed), it surely looked like it to me...and the refs. Yellow cards were handed out in alternation, and each team ended up with one player who had two yellows...meaning he will be "grounded" next game. Substitutions meant that as the players left, all the spectators in Todi clapped to thank the departing player (who, duh, couldn't hear the applause).
The game ended in a tie, and at this bracket, it means overtime. First overtime: no one scored. Second overtime: no one scored. Time to move to penalty kicks!
This tie-breaker requires each team to take five shots at the goal, which is protected only by the goalie. Each shot was scrutinized and critiqued...and each team got three goals. The tie-breaker didn't work! Time to move to the final tie-breaker, which would indeed be final: continue on the free shots, and the first team to pull ahead would win.
You could have heard a pin drop. Every goal led to massive cheering.
At the ninth (NINTH!) kick, Italy missed...and Germany scored.
We all walked home in silence or talking softly; it resembled a wake.
Love,
Alexandra
Nursing my prosecco and almonds, I watched the piazza fill; it was crammed by about 8:50, but people did keep coming and crushing in.
A few notes. The beginning featured both national anthems, and I was struck by the enormous differences in the music and in each countryman's approach to his anthem. Italy went first. It is a light, syncopated, and rather operatic anthem. Some people at Pianegiani stood, but most remained seated. No hands on heart or anything like that. Sergio started the local singalong, and it was just about exactly that: a little song that everyone knew and sang lightheartedly, embracing each other, teasing each other with vocal exaggerations, and generally having fun together. It was quite interesting and very sweet. Even the more martial sections were sung without being taken too seriously. I recalled that most of the soccer players sang with a bit of a smile as well, arms wrapped around each other.
And then came Germany. Stately, ponderous, certainly heartfelt. This was a song NOT to be trifled with in any way, and any deviations would seemingly have been rather frowned upon. Lovely in its own right to see the passion of the players, but a very different experience.
And the match? This was beyond doubt the most exciting match I've ever seen. I'm not a soccer fan per se, but I must say that I was screaming with the rest at the end! Starting with a goal by Germany (crisis! Wailing! Gnashing of teeth!), Italy managed to tie before the end of the game (thanks to a handball call against the opposition...much rejoicing! Much stress! Must get that other goal!). The first half resembled choreographed tumbling as much as soccer, although not many penalties were handed out. Then came the second half. If they weren't deliberately trying to trip each other (as of course the players claimed), it surely looked like it to me...and the refs. Yellow cards were handed out in alternation, and each team ended up with one player who had two yellows...meaning he will be "grounded" next game. Substitutions meant that as the players left, all the spectators in Todi clapped to thank the departing player (who, duh, couldn't hear the applause).
The game ended in a tie, and at this bracket, it means overtime. First overtime: no one scored. Second overtime: no one scored. Time to move to penalty kicks!
This tie-breaker requires each team to take five shots at the goal, which is protected only by the goalie. Each shot was scrutinized and critiqued...and each team got three goals. The tie-breaker didn't work! Time to move to the final tie-breaker, which would indeed be final: continue on the free shots, and the first team to pull ahead would win.
You could have heard a pin drop. Every goal led to massive cheering.
At the ninth (NINTH!) kick, Italy missed...and Germany scored.
We all walked home in silence or talking softly; it resembled a wake.
Love,
Alexandra
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