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nata likes long walks along the beach...italian food...and sad sack music
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VIVA ITALIA!!!!
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Sunday, July 09, 2006
7/09/2006 11:32:00 pm |
"When the moon hits your eyes..." as sang many a times by good 'ol Deano..i think the moon he was referring to were the pints smacked down by us all whilst we watched Italy go up against France in the World Cup Final .. now That's Amore!! My fellow inhabitants headed down to Del Ponte Bar.. what will, in my opinion, come to be known as one of the most impassioned Italian bars north of London. On offer was chilled Magners for the ladies, frosted beers for the lads, sambuca shots for yours truely, comfortable leater seats (which was greatly appreciated considering extra time plus penalties!!) and not to forget the almost TOO CHEAP perfectly baked wood oven pizzas (guys how cheap were they again....?? :)
However what could not have been pre-ordered was the atmosphere that consumed the bar!! I have to admit that i was a little saddened by being away from Melbourne for this glorious and gratifyning match.. I can imagine with a huge smile on my face the state of Carlton and Lygon Street! Streets closed down to traffic by police who prayed for an Italian victory; restaurant and cafe owners licking their lips in the anticipation of grand profits made... and the people! Fabulous Italians cheering with a passion that is worldly known.
Back in north London.... I headed down to Del Ponte with the intention of enjoying myself and the game.. imagining i was back home wth my boys and girls, never expecting to enter a bar with the same intense passion that would have electrified Lygon Street! There were Italians everywhere!! Patrons ambitiously began the early evening sitting civilized on reserved tables and lounges.. ohhh how this setting changed with every minute of football played. Middle aged men were chanting for the entire match.. i'm sure that is a record somewhere!! Ladies were hanging off bannisters coursing the referees as only Italian women can; all the while bar staff doing the fabulous job of clearing away what were many empty pint and shot glasses trying to stay out of the way of short-fused italians in fear of missing a second of play.
My favourate supporter was a middle aged man we'll call Bruno for the purpose of description. Now Bruno was like one of those uncles you hope would never drink at a wedding.. you all know the one! The uncle whose voice had the ability to drown out a fog horn over the span of a huge ocean. Now Bruno knew PASSION (especially after what i imagine were a couple of pints.. gallons that is!). Bruno's evening of "support" began with singing along to the Italian national anthem.. and if i had to guess is still singing it as i type this post!! He was the uncle who made sure that all people present knew not only who was playing .. but who was fated to win! He had the power of the chant even Eddie McGuire would pay for... and for someone as loud as i am...you guys can only imagine my admiration!!! Bruno was great.. he was relied upon for his choice of words and commentry on decisions made during the match.. even if some time publicly inappropriate (maybe he thought that nobody else in the bar understood Italian.. RIGHT!)
During the course of the match, we were joined by my work colleague Raffaella, her man and a girlfriend. I was so thrilled that Raffe joined for she too was an Italian Melbournian from Tullamarine!!! Not to scare you uys at home.. but i think there's another Nata in this world! Nothing like another Tulla buddy to sit, cheer and curse with - if nothing else we helped eachother reharsh all our Italian swear words - mum you would have been proud! Thanks Raffe :) We both cheered on for the boys in blue always making comparissons to the atmosphere back home.
People in the bar were watching the match with the apprehension of a possible loss due to the even score board. However, when Mr. Dal Piero, in the sexy way only he knows, ran onto that field.. i knew that magic was going to happen. Eventhough i question the man's (bad!!) choice of hairstyle (or lack ther of!) i knew that a victory was in the bag.
When that penalty found its way to the back of the net and victory (more importantly for my fellow Italians, ensuring our BRAGGING RIGHTS), the bar errupted into what could only be described as Christmas Eve dinner at my gradmother's house. For those of you who know me, can understand, appreciate and cringe at this comparison, and for those of you for whch this comparisson makes no sense... i'll explain it in one word..... LOUD!!! The cheers, screams and tearful cries were so loud that the people who were stomping their chairs on the ground in excitment were having little impact!
So there i was at the end of the night... lying in bed trying to sleep. But instead of mentally preparing myself for the Monday morning grind.. i was being serendaded to sleep by the ongoing tunes of car horns wondering why i couldn't stop my room from spinning.
So all in all, when that an important ball finds a net and a nation celebrates for a week... now "That's Amore!"
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