Roma 2 Atalanta 0

Since I last spoke to you dear readers, Roman football has been turned on its head; Lazio are top of the league, smashing goals in left, right and centre thanks to new signing the Zarate Kid, while Roma are wallowing around in mid-table after taking another bashing away from home, this time at Genoa. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all you know. I want goals and glory, not limp-wristed surrender. Don’t these fucks realise I am a demanding Chelsea fan and want instant success, or so help me God I’ll call up 6-0-6 and complain that the ‘gaffer’s lost the dressing room, guv’? Clearly not.

So it was to my and Spangles’ delight that they bounced back with a comfortable win against Atalanta. However the biggest news of the day wasn’t the performance of newly fit Phillipe Mexes, or Mirko Vucinic’s vurtuoso display, oh no; I managed to wangle my way into the central section of the Sud, meaning that by fluttering my manly eyelashes and saying that my poor little English girlfriend was in there and needed be to look after I wasn’t stuck on the fringes of the crowd-based fun. Not that the guy on the gate believed a single word I was saying, but he let in two others just as I was asking him, so he had no choice but to wave me through.

It was a bit of a shame then, that the Sud was pretty flat for most of the game, a situation not helped by the small crowd (apart from our end everywhere was half empty), and the lack of away fans, who were of course banned from travelling. Hardly suprising really, considering that Atalanta are like the Millwall of Italy; from an industrial haertland with strong working class support, who aren’t big in number but contain a high ratio of baseball bat weilding nutters:fan.

Despite the slightly disappointing atmosphere, I managed to get a better view of what was going on and at least a little bit of a sing song. Pleasingly I am also started to get the hang of a few of the chants, and one of my favourites usually gets sung right at the beginning of the game after The Fedayn Ultras (who very much appear to be the dominant group in the Sud in terms of starting songs – coincidentally also the only non-right wing one) do their own song. First there is a big woooooooaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh that the whole end do, before lauching into:

Ovunque tu sarai (Everywhere you will be)

Non ti lascerò mai (I will never leave you)

AS Roma dai (AS Roma go)

Vinci per noi (Win for us)

(repeat first four lines)

Battiamo le mani (We raise our hands)

Noi da veri Romani (We are true Romans)

Battiamo le mani

AS Roma OLE LA LA LA LA!!

Which is toss lyrically, but it has a catchy tune and cool hand clappy bits, as well as a good ‘lalala’, which is always a plus in a football song. As you can see here:

Two first half goals were enough to seperate the two sides, with Chelsea reject Christian Pannuci opening the scoring with a deflected strike, and is bizarrely Roma’s top goalscorer so far this season with three. Montenegrian marksman Mirko Vucinic added the second and decisive goal with five minutes left in the first period, ensuring that the giallorosso faithful went into half time happier than their invisible Bergamese counterparts. Pannuci’s goal gave us a chance to sing a song of which I am a big fan, particularly as player chants are usually either rubbish or conspicuous by their absence in Italian football.

Noi vogliamo undici Panucci,

Undici, undici, undici Panucci!

It’s a really satisfying little chant in so many ways, with heavy ‘ooon’ and ‘chi’ sounds bouncing off your tongue and down the stands towards the pitch. I have, I must confess, been known to jump around the flat bellowing it out at the top of my voice.

The second half came and went without much in the way of incident, apart from a young local boy being brought on for Vucinic with about 20 minutes to. As well as being Roman, strong, fast, good at holding the ball up and (I apologise for the Hansen-esque list of adjectives) possessing good feet for a big lad, he’s also something most Romans aren’t: Black. Born to Nigerian parents in Castiglion del Lago in the province of Perugia, Stefano Okaka Chuka was like anyone born to immigrant parents in Italy, unable to claim the Italian nationality as his own until his 18th birthday. Considering that this a country that chucks out citizenships like confetti to just about anyone with Italian ancestry (like Spangles, who nearest Italian relative is her Grandma) this seems pretty, well, racist. The idea that being born in a country isn’t enough to giveyou it’s nationality is absurd, and stopped a talented young player from representing Italy at all until under-19 level. The same thing happened to Inter’s Mario Balotelli, another one who was born to Nigerian parents, who left him in Italy and promptly fucked off somewhere else. Balotelli himself has been pretty vocal about how ridiculous this is, using his profile as one of the best up and coming young players in the country to raise awareness of an issue that few care about. The idea that a nationality is intertwined with ethnicity is a something that no doubt the fascists waving their tricolori down the front of the Sud are very keen on, and play into all sorts of existing internal and external prejudices. A black man (or any other ‘impure’ peoples born in Italy for that matter, including some Southerners) has to choose to be an Italian – it’s not an innate quality. And it’s a pretty fucking shit definition, if you don’t mind me saying.

Anyway he got a good reception from the crowd and played well, and but for the linesman putting up his flag everytime he went through on goal (sparking a great song to the tune of The Red Flag about sticking the bandierina – or little flag – up his arse) would have shown us whether he can add the finishing touch to Roma’s flowing moves. Maybe his stereotypically large member kept poking out past the backline or something, or maybe the lino was, as the old song goes, ‘a cunt’. Who knows?

All in all Sunday was pretty positive, the team played some very good football, new siging Menez looks very tidy indeed and players are coming back from injury. Slowly but surely things are taking shape, and hopefully they’ll beat Bordeux tomorrow so Chelsea don’t have a chance to knock them out. Do you hear me football Gods?

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3 Responses

  1. I don’t get it – why don’t they want eleven panuccis?

  2. I think a better question would be; ‘why am I such a du… du… dur brain’ to be honest.

    Think about it.

  3. Oh, right … whoops. Let’s gloss over this one.

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