Forza

They arrived at our door wearing blue, flags tied around their necks, festive hats on their heads.  They arrive at our door bearing fine English ale, clothed in bright red jerseys.  They arrive ready to cheer, ready to stand by their teams no matter what the consequence. It was 11:30 am, and it was game on.

Today Italy played England in the Euro Cup quarter finals and my family came over to watch.    It's interesting, only because my husband and brother in law are fierce England fans. My father and brother are blood loyal Italian fans, and when it comes to soccer I can't deny it, my father's blood runs hot in my veins.

So when it came to Jakob it was never really clear who he would end up cheering for, but today he decided himself.  We were out at our local Italian deli picking up some goodies for the afternoon game, and as we were walking down the street a car painted in the Italian colours, packed with at least six grown men in blue jerseys hanging huge Italian flags out the window, drove down the busy street honking and cheering (the game hadn't even started yet). Jakob instantly appreciated the blatant display of cultural pride, calling after it "Italia Car! Italia Car again!" and I swear I could see the bright blue hue of his blood move beneath his skin.  I could see him in that car one day, and I'll admit it, it made me happy.

Being an Italian soccer fan won't always be easy for my boy....

but it was today.