Tutto Fußball

~ Wednesday, July 23 ~
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Happy birthday Roma

For the times I used to program the VHS (yes, VHS) to record the two hours of Italian league on the local broadcasting channel every Sunday morning in Italian, in the hopes it was a Roma game. If it was, the game would remain on the tape. If not, I’d rewind it and try again the following week.

For the time I cried all night when our mutual dream of making the final of the Champions League in our hometown of Rome died when Max Tonetto blasted the ball over the crossbar in the Olimpico.

For everytime I spoke in the first person when speaking about Roma even though I’ve never been to the city, don’t have any Italian blood, barely speak any Italian or am an official card caring member of the club…

For every early game around 7 or 8 am when I would have to pump the air in silence when Totti scored, as to not wake anyone else in the house.

For everytime I scheduled my weekend around the highlight game of the match day.

For every work break scheduled around a midweek Champions League game.

For every work break to BE scheduled around a midweek Champions League game this season.

For the time I traveled almost 24 via two broken down buses to Boston from DC to see Roma play Liverpool all alone, my first time seeing them live.

For the time I saw Totti for the first time, when he walked out to warm up for said game versus Liverpool… When everyone else was speechless as well and then, out of pure instinct, chanting what I chanted in my living room countless times alone, DAJE CAPITANO and I swear Er Purpone looked my way before waving to the crowd.

For the time I left two hours too early for New York to be able to see them again versus El Salvador, my homeland… Two hours two early because as I was scrolling the Web on the bus, I saw that Roma was in the exact bus/train terminal taking an amtrak to NYC…

for the time Roma came to my hometown of Washington DC and again, missed a chance to meet my favorite club but did see them play against Chelsea the following day.

For the countless times I navigated Thai Chinese and Italian websites and vendors to get a Roma jersey almost every year.

For the scarf my cousins fiance brought me of Roma when she was in Italy.

For the countless debates message boards, tweets, blogs, responses, Instagram and Facebook posts related to Roma.

For every tattoo I’ve designed in my brain that has a connection to Roma

For all those reasons and more, I wish my favorite club in the entire world a happy 87th birthday. I would sacrifice all this and more for you!!

Tags: tantiauguriroma hapoybirthdayroma roma dajeroma unicograndeamore
~ Wednesday, May 16 ~
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Tags: troll liverpool england eurocup
4 notes
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i finna farted


~ Saturday, January 14 ~
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'That's the SADDEST FUCKING thing I've ever heard!!'

It could be that these are the truest words I’ve ever heard about my obsession with football. Or maybe it’s not.

I’ve asked myself plenty of times why this game has come to mean so much to me. Why do I invest so much of myself emotionally to a mere game? Why have I shed tears (and probably will continue doing so) for this team from the city of Rome, a city I will probably never visit anytime soon, in a country I have no connection to at all? Why would I schedule my weekend around the time that the late afternoon match is shown on the premium football channels I pay extra for when I barely have enough for the Metro? Why would would I wake up on a few hours of sleep on a Sunday morning to do the same thing to watch a potential nil nil draw?

Simply, this game, this team Roma, are my one escape from everything. For a mere two hours (or even less if it’s on the DVR and I’m on a time limit to watch), I don’t have to worry about finishing my associates, I don’t have to worry about how to change the perceived notion of my colleagues at work that I’m a vagabond, how to help get all the bills paid at my house, how I’m going to send money to my ailing grandmother back home in El Salvador when all the said bills are do. But unlike a drug addict or an alcoholic, my ‘buzz’ is just for those two hours. Yes, I admit to rambling off to my coworkers of why football is greater than any American sport and also to knowing WAY too much about the players on the teams I watch (why on God’s green earth should I know that the journeyman Cristiano Lucarelli is the owner of a Communist newspaper based in the city of the most left wing Italian club Livorno?!). I admit to also recording any and every football news show on TV as well as making 75% of my Facebook/Twitter updates about the sport- okay, more like 90%… Sue me.

But like any fanatical person, I remember to keep it in check. I remember that why this is my escape, it’s not my life. I know very well that as much as I invest in my love for Roma or any football team or match-up, Roma could care less about this Salvadorian American guy in DC. When these players pickup their weekly paycheck which is on average higher than any yearly income I will ever make in my life time, they don’t care if that goal they scored from 20 yards out made me the happiest kid on an over-packed Metro train following the match on his smartphone with a bad 3G feed. They don’t care if the utter whiff they had on an easy clearance that saw them lose the league for the 10th year in a row ruins my weekend from the start even though I’m set to see my girlfriend, baby nephews and extended family that is visiting since forever ago. I know the beautiful game is the biggest cash making scheme in all sports, helping Billionaire owners bankroll their city size yachts while the fans have to pay more and more every year for kits, scarfs, tickets, tv viewing rights and even the chance to see their players train.

So when I go about watching my game on the weekend, know that it’s not my life, my life is my family and my loved ones. But damn, sometimes, the sweetest thing after a very long week is seeing a gorgeous goal go in at 8:37 AM while everyone is still sleeping and I have to yell a silent film scream of happiness. Tease it for being the biggest consumer whore thing you have ever heard, hate it for not being cultured, being brute, being so Neanderthal because it might be the saddest thing but at the end it’s my one thing I truly indulge in fully. Even if it’s just two hours.

roma arsenal exit

Tags: footballisntlife itjustmakeslifealittleeasiersometimes
~ Friday, May 27 ~
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I find this hilarious. poster for Italia’s 2006 WC Squad with the starting eleven in the middle and the subs all around. Massimo Oddo’s (Lazio player at the time as well as the only Lazio Merda player on the squad) picture is actually Simone Perrotta’s even thou Simone is already in the starting eleven!! LOVE IT! 

I find this hilarious. poster for Italia’s 2006 WC Squad with the starting eleven in the middle and the subs all around. Massimo Oddo’s (Lazio player at the time as well as the only Lazio Merda player on the squad) picture is actually Simone Perrotta’s even thou Simone is already in the starting eleven!! LOVE IT! 

Tags: Romaalwayswins LazioMerdaneverdo lol 2timestheSimonelove
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~ Thursday, May 26 ~
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29 notes
reblogged via amandamnunes
~ Monday, April 4 ~
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Retweet from Charlie Davies. Awesome.

Retweet from Charlie Davies. Awesome.


~ Sunday, December 5 ~
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So so true. THANK YOU!

So so true. THANK YOU!


58 notes
reblogged via footiesecrets-deactivated201204
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rageandpride:

thedailywhat:

I Want To Go To There of the Day: Welcome to Heaven. May I take your order?
[epicponyz.]

 

O M G

srly? i could die a happy man if i went to this place.

rageandpride:

thedailywhat:

I Want To Go To There of the Day: Welcome to Heaven. May I take your order?

[epicponyz.]

O M G

srly? i could die a happy man if i went to this place.

(Source: thedailywhat)


31,876 notes
reblogged via amandamnunes
~ Friday, September 3 ~
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yeah, i totally ran into him at Barnes and Noble today and talked smack on Bob Bradley for about fifteen minutes… that’s how i roll.

yeah, i totally ran into him at Barnes and Noble today and talked smack on Bob Bradley for about fifteen minutes… that’s how i roll.

Tags: frankiehayduck mls awesome