What happened to Italy?

I've been hearing this a lot lately, and it's a fair question. Italy entered this World Cup as reigning champions and left it in the first round. So what happened to Italy? There is an army of balding men wearing fat ties and slick glasses in RAI studios right now (over)analyzing this very matter, but I will give you my opinion. Since you asked.

The coach was the wrong choice, and he didn’t select or field the right players. To further devastate matters, our best chances at holding it together in spite of the deficit - Buffon and Pirlo - were injured and unable to play all but a few minutes of the first three matches. On the field Italy were limp, lifeless; they played without organization or heart. Except for the dying minutes of the third game against Slovakia, when Pirlo controlled with his calm, unerring passes, Quagliarella exploded with his bloodlust for goal, and Italy came alive. That was actually the hardest part of the tournament to watch, even compared to the embarrassing tie with New Zealand (who doesn't even have a professional soccer league). I was a ball of emotions: furious that Italy had waited so long to turn it on, overjoyed to see them play with heart and fire, and miserable to know the effort was wasted. The hole they'd dug themselves was too deep to climb out of.

Of course I'm ashamed that my team didn't make it out of group play. It's gutting to fall so far so fast, especially when naysayers use it to gripe that Italy didn't really deserve to win in 2006. Still, I believe the story couldn't have ended any other way. This team was not going to win the World Cup again, and the loss only gets more painful as the team advances. I'm almost glad Italy put it to bed so quickly. As a fan, I prefer to know right from the start that there is no hope.

So now what? Now the fans of mighty Italy lick our wounds and we wait. We change our computer background from the World Cup trophy because it isn't ours anymore, and we watch the reconstruction of the Azzurri. We cheer and we grieve, we praise and we curse, we beg and we boast, we demand and we despair, and we wait for the fratelli d'Italia to rise again.

Mad Love

Love is...

Not being offended when the 2010 World Cup commercial comes on, and I shush you, turn to the TV and raise my arms in victory at the clips of the Italian team celebrating after the 2006 final.

Mad Love is...

Knowing I will have the same reaction every day until June, but never changing the channel or rolling your eyes.

Thursday Overthink: FIFA World Cup 2010

Friends, the next World Cup is nearly upon us. The games don't start until next summer, but the draw to determine the groups is TOMORROW. In case you were thinking of calling me for a chat Friday night, don't. I have mixed feelings about the tournament: I am excited of course - who doesn't love a good World Cup? - but loathe to lose my crown. I have no expectation of Italy winning again. Does this make me a bad fan? Winning two times in a row is a lot to ask, and I'm not greedy. But does that mean that I will watch without my heart in my mouth? I wonder if an Italian loss could ever hurt less than Tiger Woods coming home to a scorned wife at 2AM.

In World Cup news:

• Wal-Mart is going to put special shops promoting the World Cup inside its stores. No details have been provided, unless "unique opportunity for us to leverage our global scale" means anything to you.

• FIFA and Sony have signed a deal to broadcast match highlights in 3D, and they are discussing doing the same with live matches.

I don't understand this whole 3D movement in film and now TV. Do people still have to wear those red and blue glasses? If so, those better be stocked at Wal-Mart's World Cup Shop right next to the FIFA branded floor pillows I will need to cushion my head when I faint after watching Cannavaro slide-tackle in 3D.

It's About Tradition

On Saturday we went to Tontitown for the 111th Annual Grape Festival. Tontitown is a little community about 12 miles northwest of Fayetteville that was settled by Italian immigrants in the early 1900s. When I first moved to Fayetteville, everyone I met asked me if I was from Tontitown. I learned quickly that Italian last names are rare here, unless you’re a descendant of a Tontitown settler. Tontitown is very proud of its heritage and strives to keep its traditions alive, through annual events such as the fall Polenta Smear and the summer Grape Festival .

As with all local fairs, the Grape Festival features a midway of sketchy rides, a visual feast of mullets, a section of arts and crafts tents selling Confederate flag bikinis, and a string of overpriced junk food vendors. Paolo nearly broke my heart when he opted for a corn dog instead of the wildly popular spaghetti dinner, but that’s his father in him. Throughout his boyhood, Sam didn’t miss a Missouri state fair, and the smell of carnie sweat and corn dogs (to be eaten on the fourth day of the fair, never earlier, allowing the grease enough time to reach the right level of putrid) always puts a certain twinkle in his eye.

We ate over in the park so the boys could play on the multitude of playground equipment. There are half a dozen different play areas in the park, with lots of old-school gear not found in parks anymore. As we spun on the merry-go-round, I shared my story of how I got my worst scar from a merry-go-round on my elementary school playground. I was pushing it around and didn’t clear the edge when I jumped on, which left me with a two-inch long scar on my left shin. The next play area over, I described how I was nearly crippled as a child when a mean see-saw partner slid off the back of the seat, leaving me to plummet to the ground, crushing my feet under the seat. I can still feel the shock of that pain traveling like lightning from my ankles to my waist. It occurred to me there is a reason those particular playground artifacts are not in use anymore.

After last year’s Grape Festival, I decided to inquire about volunteering at the local museum because I admired the community and really missed having a museum, no matter how small, in my life. I now serve on the Board of Directors and have befriended all those wonderful people whose last names end in vowels. They believe I have a lot to offer their small museum, and I am hopeful that I can prove them right.

As we drove home, faces and fingers sticky with grape ice cream, I reflected upon past Grape Festivals we’ve attended, with Paolo growing from a toddler to a schoolboy, and Gianluca, first just a bump (of freakish proportions, due to arrive a week later), and now nearly ready for the rides. I pictured our family coming back to Tontitown year after year to enjoy their tradition, and to make it our own. I can honestly say that being a small part of this kind and welcoming Italian-American community makes it even easier to embrace a long, long stay in Northwest Arkansas.

"We believed in a dream and made it come true."

Did you know that any team who wins the World Cup four times gets to keep the trophy? I had forgotten until now. Brazil was awarded the first trophy, which was stolen and is still missing. The second belongs to Italy, forever. Amen. The picture at left is captioned, "Fabio Cannavaro receives the Cup from Joseph Blatter." Excerpts from the article on Gazzetta dello Sport below:

FLORENCE, 2 September 2008 - For the first time, a national side displays on their shirts a logo reflecting one of their achievements: for Lippi's lads, it will be a special memory. It's a logo that will identify the reigning world champions: the world cup on a white background, with the words FIFA World Champions 2006. "It has never happened before and this shows how much FIFA cares about Italy," said Abete, president of FIGC.

(In case anyone was wondering what I want for my birthday, a-hem.)

Here is Joseph Blatter, FIFA's number one: "The champions deserve special recognition. The Italian side are the first ones to have it; the logo will be on their blue shirts at least until 2010. The players who have that logo on their shirts will have extra motivation." Then came a round of applause, requested by Blatter, who complimented Italy.

The squad and the coaching staff were also present in the ceremony. The captain Cannavaro found some time to talk about a rematch: "The experience in Germany changed all our lives. We believed in a dream and made it come true. We have won a magical cup. However, we have another chance at it now; the chance to silence everyone. This is why I invite president Blatter to hand over the cup to me. He can do that now." After which, FIFA President (who left his place in Berlin to Johansson), stood up and handed the World Cup (that was behind both of them) over to the Italian captain: "It's never too late to do well," smiled Blatter.

Italy lose captain Cannavaro

Oh, no.

Azzurri squad announced for Euro 2008

Goalkeepers: Buffon, Amelia, De Sanctis
Defenders: Barzagli, Cannavaro, Chiellini, Grosso, Materazzi, Panucci, Zambrotta
Midfielders: Ambrosini, Gattuso, Aquilani, Camoranesi, De Rossi, Perrotta, Montolivo and Pirlo
Forwards: Toni, Borriello, Del Piero, Di Natale, Quagliarella, Cassano

There are three, THREE Fabios in the lineup. Have I mentioned already...? Yeah, I have.

All in all, I'm pleased with the lineup. I'm disappointed with the exclusion of Pippo Inzaghi in favor of Antonio Cassano. Cassano's a big baby, and Pippo's a pro. Pippo is a cherrypicker and has never scored a pretty goal in his career, but you know what? They all count, even the ugly ones he scores with his knee cap or his ear.

There are two words that explain why I'm not too stressed about our forwards: Luca and Toni. Toni, who broke my heart by moving to Bayern Munich last season, helped his club win the Bundesliga title and finished as the league's top scorer with 24 goals in 31 appearances. Perhaps the national side lost God but found Jesus.

Two years ago when Italy brought home the World Cup, I said I didn't care if they ever won anything else. I almost meant that.

Five Cool Things

1. Gianluca rolled over. Now that's he's figured out how to get from front to back, tummy time is over. Speaking of tummy time, I read an article about "container syndrome," which is caused by babies spending all their time in infant carriers, bouncers, swings, and strollers. Essentially, their muscles don't develop because they never get to use them, not to mention the emotional disconnect. Therapists recommend tummy time as a good way to exercise the little ones. I too have a suggestion: pick up your kid. Leave the damn infant carrier in the car and carry your baby. I promise you, babies are fun to hold.

2. I finished a New York Times crossword puzzle. I watched Wordplay recently, and it made me feverish to do some crosswords. If Jon Stewart and Bill Clinton getting all giddy over crosswords doesn't get you fired up, you are dead inside. Oh, and I work in ink.

3. Super Bowl Sunday. This really shouldn't be on the cool list. Roma lost 3-0 to Siena. Siena?? Damn it, Roma, you're in second place. How are you going to make a run for the scudetto if you don't win your 'gimme' games? What? Well, that was the big game on Sunday as far as I'm concerned. You didn't think I had anything to say about the Super Bowl, did you? Please. Although, our satellite provider screwed up the coverage and didn't broadcast the whole first half, so that was disappointing for some. Are there halves in football?

4. We rocked the vote on Super Tuesday. We turned it into a family outing, so I got to explain to Paolo what we were doing. He was less intrigued once I assured him we were going to vote, not going on a boat. I told him we intended to pick the nicest person to be our leader. He asked who the nicest person was, and I told him we thought Mr. Obama was, but that was just our idea. Other people have different ideas, and that's why we vote. How tolerant was that? Because I really wanted to say, "Other people have different ideas, but they are stupid and should be disenfranchised." Actually, I'd be happy with Obama or Clinton, so I feel like I can't lose. I can't wait to see what the final Democratic ticket will be.

5. Italy beat Portugal 3-1 in a friendly. Goals by Luca Toni (pictured here), Andrea Pirlo and Fabio Quagliarella. If you can pronounce that last name, you are a fan. The team is looking strong heading into the European championships. The best part of the game was the Scottish announcer. His accent is almost inpenetrable, but he loves the Azzurri, and it's so rare and refreshing to hear nice things said about my team. Thumbs down on the new V-necked jerseys. We're going to need to resolve that by summer.

The Retirement of a Gladiator

Francesco Totti announced his retirement from the national team today, after a year of speculation following the Azzurri's World Cup victory. At his best, Totti had vision, skill, artistry and unflagging devotion on the pitch. At his worst, he was petulant, fraudulent, lazy and absent. Throughout his career, I have both admired him and been terribly disappointed in him, but there is no denying he is one of the greats, an Italian legend.

Totti wore the number 10 for the Azzurri, and I can't think who will wear it now. A creative, attacking midfielder - the Playmaker - is not so easy to replace. Who is the new Totti? Sure, there are Del Piero and Pirlo, but those guys aren't getting any younger. Who is the next brash, fearless, imperfect, brilliant star to streak towards goal, to send in the perfect cross, or to score a free kick that defies the laws of physics?

Totti has said that he is more loyal to his club team, AS Roma, than to the national team. I could never understand that, and I don't think Italian fans or players did either. Totti is a rare player in that he has only ever played for Roma. Most players jump around in their careers to bigger clubs, higher salaries, and better chances at winning titles. Still, everyone knows it is the greatest honor to pull on the blue jersey and play for Italy. Ever since Totti made that statement, I have had mixed feelings about his place on the Azzurri squad. If his heart is not in it, I know how badly he can play. "If Italy is not his highest professional priority, I don't want him on my team," I declared defiantly, all the while watching from the corner of my eye for his return.

Totti, affectionately called Bimbo d'Oro (Golden Boy), was often weighed down by a superstar complex, but on many occasions earned every accolade. Totti: easy to love, easy to hate, impossible to count out. Until now. Now he has counted himself out of the lineup, and I will miss him.

Grazie, Francesco, for your contributions in blue. See you in August wearing red and yellow.

He is not the only one, and I can prove it.

Sam and I knew going in that we were blessing/cursing our son with a unique name. We knew we would never find a Paolo on a store rack of personalized cups or bike license plates or 'Stay out of _____'s Room' signs. We knew our Paolo would probably never meet another one. But they're out there, those Paolos, and they're totally rocking of late. I'd like to introduce you to a couple.

For those of you who weren't paying attention, AC Milan won UEFA Champions' League yesterday. This is important. Imagine if a professional sports team from some city in the United States could enter and win a championship to be the best team out of all the teams on the continent. Also pretend the U.S. were on a continent that had more countries that all played the same sport and were really good at it. Okay, I give up. The gentlemen holding the trophy is Paolo Maldini, otherwise known as God. I'm not kidding; look it up. It would take a very long time to detail all of his winnings and contributions to his club and national team throughout his long and illustrious career. So I'll just celebrate this, his latest. Auguri, Paolo!

Also underway is the Giro d'Italia, which is just like the Tour de France,

only it's a tour of Italy. Got it? The cyclist pictured on the right is Paolo Bettini, and he had a very good 2006. He is wearing a special white jersey, different from his team, because he is the reigning world champion of cycling. He is also the national champion of Italy and, not surprisingly, is heavily favored to win the Giro. Forza, Paolo.

Victory Baby

In the new Eurosport catalogue, there's a facetious article about a baby boom happening in Italy right now, nine months after the World Cup victory. The article points out that similar baby booms occured following each of Italy's three other World Cup victories. The most outlandish part of the article was the report that baby supplies were running out, and Italian women were getting into fistfights over packs of diapers for their "Victory Babies." While the story was meant to be tongue-in-cheek, I wouldn't be surprised one bit if historical birth rate statistics proved it true. I laughed at the article and passed it to Sam to read. When he'd finished, I sighed and said, "I want to have a Victory Baby." He replied, "You are having a Victory Baby." Seriously, I love him so much sometimes.

Speaking of Eurosport, I am now the proud owner of these beauties. So...pretty.

Why I hate you, Romance-Novel-Cover Fabio

"Hey, Sam?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Did you read that article about Fabio Capello, the tactical genius who coached our favorite Italian club, Roma, to a championship a few years ago? Well, apparently, he's very successful at Real Madrid, too, and they're saying he's one of the best coaches in the world right now."

"Yep."

"Also, you know Fabio Cannavaro, the defender I have followed and worshipped for years, from his humble beginnings at Parma to serving as captain of the national team, which he led to its fourth World Cup victory last year? Dear Canna, who, if I had to choose, I would name as my absolute favorite Italian player? You'll remember he also won the Golden Ball and the FIFA World Player of the Year for his performance in the World Cup."

"Uh-huh."

"And let's not forget Fabio Grosso, who also put in an outstanding performance at the World Cup. Not only was he a solid and creative force in midfield throughout the tournament, it was the foul he suffered against Australia that Totti converted to give Italy the win, and he scored a goal against Germany in the dying minutes of the game, putting Italy through to the final. And finally, it was Grosso who scored the fifth and final penalty kick that won the game against France. You could almost call him the face of victory."

"Yeah, he's good."

[Deep breath] "So, if we have a boy, can we name him Fabio?"

"No."

Damn you, Romance-Novel-Cover Fabio, for ruining a perfectly lovely name. By the way, when you did that promotional roller coaster ride and killed a goose with your face, I totally laughed at you.

Mad Love

Love is...

the click and whirr of the VCR coming to life because my husband programmed it to record the Italy-Turkey friendly for me to watch tonight after work.

Mad love is...

setting the recording a half-hour before the game starts so I won't miss a note of the Italian national anthem.