Thread by @StillDelvingH

A story about football
(How I discovered it even existed -It’s fair to say none of my parents are fans)
My brother and I were in Italy, in a camping, with our dad, wife #2 and step-sis #1
I was 10
That night Italy was playing
In a World Cup
In Italy
People were *hysterical*

Funny thing, in Italian campings (the one we camped in to the least), everyone had a TV. Everyone. Playing the “sound battle” with their neighbours.
Tho that night there was no battle.
Everyone was looking at Italy playing
Everyone.
It was playing semi-finals against Argentina.

We didn’t have a TV. (We were visiting Italy to “culture up” as our lame, ambitiousless mother was raising us as pitiful peasants.) We were there to learn about monuments, museums, the Romans’ history.
That night, we were reading the Michelin guide about tomorrow’s visits.

I was working on a summary that would be deemed acceptable by the saviour of our sorry soul (aka dad), when a fellow camper noticed we didn’t have a TV.
We were to miss the World Cup. With Italy playing. In Italy.
It was unacceptable.
Dad say no thank you but he wasn’t having it.

I mean the guy would have carried us to his tent. That was huge. With a TV bigger than the 1 we had at home. Filled with hysterical Italians drinking and eating. That cheered when we arrived saying: “You for Italy, yes?”
You would have had to have a death wish to say the contrary

The match started. The whole camping erupted in loud cheering. That night I learned *a lot* of slurs in Italian. At one point my 6 year brother, delighted by this welcome and unexpected experience, yelled: “Vafaculo!” at an Argentinian player.
The whole tent laughed and clapped.

The atmosphere was electric. But as the match drew close to an end, tension started to built. We could feel anxiety and fear bubbling behind the joy. That and many were drunk. The match ended on penalties.
The camping suddenly became completely silent.
It was a little scary tbh

When an Italian player missed, our host was so pissed off he took his (empty) beer bottle &threw it at the TV
Thankfully he (too) missed
There was an ugly decorative porcelain thingy set on a placemat on the TV
It exploded.
At this point we literally ran away to hide in our tents

Italy lost.
A scream of despair, rage and frustration tore the night, erupting from dozens inconsolable, angry Italian chests.
The (loud) complaint lasted for hours. There were brawls, and he atouts of various things getting broken
We stayed hidden pretending we weren’t there.

In the morning I finally ventured out of the tent (I needed the bathroom).
The camping had transformed in a cemetery of frustrated hope. There was broken glass everywhere -and actually a lot of TVs, who had paid the price of the unbearable humiliation.
This is how I met football.

(Those holidays in Italy truly were unforgettable)
ICYMI
Here’s the highlight

https://twitter.com/StillDelvingH/status/1455469435985317891

FTR “he atouts” was “the sound”
(And no I don’t know why autocorrect is drunk today. Maybe it had a business meeting with UKG this morning.)