We sat back and allowed ourselves to be infected with World Cup Fever. Italy scored first in this Game, Paulo Rossi supplying the goal, and I cheered my little heart out. Socrates scored for Brazil soon after, and then Paulo Rossi scored again. With two goals safely under Italy’s belt, I felt I could comfortably go and check the food that was starting to smell good in the oven. Julie helped me. She enjoyed football, but wasn’t as wrapped up in it as me. No more goals were scored before half time, so when we sat down to eat, Italy had the lead, and I was happy. Everyone was pretty happy actually, how could you not be when players with names like Socrates, and Paulo Rossi were scoring magnificent goals. Good Times, no Great Times.
It was hard not to have fun when you were in your early twenties, living in a Foreign Country, enjoying new and different things. We danced to Michael Jackson, Kool and the Gang, Terrence Trent Derby, Prince, Earth Wind and Fire along with others. They were exciting times, times that should not be lost or forgotten. It didn’t seem right that at the same time, men were getting killed in a war thousands of miles away from their home in the Falkland Islands, but it made everyone want to enjoy every minute of being alive.
We ate dinner at half time, with the television turned down a little so we could hear the noise outside. As I mentioned earlier, we lived in an Italian community, more by accident than by design. The hot weather meant that people had their windows and doors open, not only in their homes, but in the surrounding restaurants and bars. There was a buzz, lots of Italian accents shouting and singing. It was intoxicating. Even though I may have been the only one in our little group supporting Italy, the atmosphere affected everyone. The food was good, I loved cooking, Graham of course ate until he was fit to burst, and then as the players came back out for the second half of this game, which was being played in the beautiful Spanish city of Barcelona, we went and sat down in front of the television again. I had made cake and custard too, but we forgot about it in the excitement of the moment. We were all drinking German wine of course, which in my opinion was the best in the world, and obviously very cheap to buy.
The game continued and Falcao scored for Brazil, making the scores an even two all, nail-biting stuff. Did this mean there would be extra time and penalties, I hoped not, that was just too much to handle. I couldn’t look when they took those penalty shots. No need to worry about penalties because five or six minutes after Brazil’s second goal. Paulo Rossi scored a hat trick! I jumped in the air, wine slopping everywhere, but I didn’t care because I was lost in the moment. As long as I can remember I loved everything Italian, the people, the language, the cars, the clothes, the ice cream. Most of all though, I loved watching them play their temperamental football game!