Il calcio

Il calcio, a.k.a. football or soccer, is of almost universal interest in Italy. If you're attempting to make small talk and have already moved past the weather (fa molto caldo, "it's very hot", was enough said while we were there), il campionato is probably a good second choice.

So when I stopped to watch a night game at Monterosso's small enclosed pitch*, I was not overly surprised to be greeted/accosted by a friendly local, an older gentleman who enthusiastically attempted to engage me in a conversation about the present match, either not realising or not caring that I was in no way qualified to have such a conversation. I eventually did gather, before my informant had his shirt sleeve tugged and was pulled away by his granddaughter to buy some gelato, that Monterosso was in blue, that I should keep an eye on number 7 (he was, in fact, quite good), that there was another photographer around somewhere from one of the newspapers, and that one of the ladies seated on the wall immediately to our right was the president of something, possibly of the visiting team, which I believe was from La Spezia. Or maybe the photographer was from La Spezia. Someone was certainly from La Spezia.

[Two Monterosso players defending against a free kick.]

God only knows what else I missed, but content wasn't the point. It was enough that I was a sports fan, that I was (however temporarily) in Monterosso and therefore for the boys in blue, and that I was evidently worth including. Viv' il calcio!

[Monterosso's keeper.]

*My first real exposure to soccer, incidentally, was watching the Baltimore Blast in the Major Indoor Soccer League—one of the team's stars, Nick Mangione, was the older brother of a classmate—and I've always preferred small-pitch soccer to the full-field version.

[Piazza transformed into an informal soccer pitch in Corniglia. The wall on which the goal is painted is the back wall of the Oratory of Santa Caterina.]