We hopped on a tram, encouraged to see a few people decked out in Roma scarves that we could follow once we stepped off. On the walk up to the stadium we could tell it was going to be a good game. There was something in the air. Perhaps it was the raw energy of the crowd. The Romans had a raw passion that was unrivaled in the other cities we visited. Football is seen as trivial by some, and as life or death by others. It was in Rome that we really felt the latter, and we knew that it would be an entertaining evening.
The trophy room, which contained every trophy won since the 1900s and also had some interesting artifacts like Hristo Stoichkov’s boots and a signed Maradona shirt. It was interesting to watch the markings on the Copa del Ray change over the years in correlation with Spanish politics. During Franco’s reign for example, it was called the Copa del Generalisimo.
First thing the next morning we were on a train from Liverpool Street Station to Stanstead Airport, and from there on a Ryanair flight to Barcelona that was so ‘no-frills’ that there weren’t even seat-back pockets. When the cabin crew came around with duty-free magazines, Mohaned rightly asked “even if I wanted one, where would I put it?”, which kind of sums up Arsene Wenger’s thoughts on buying a new striker.
Financial Fair Play (FFP) has it’s believers and it’s skeptics. I for one, am currently pulling splinters out of my backside from sitting on the fence for too long. Unfortunately, I’ll be doing it for a while longer because I am still perched on that fence. Irrespective of […]
Under The Cosh 