– Francesco Fasulo –
Much better Como. The trip begins when Milan wakes up sleepy between shop windows and credit cards that crawl to pay for objects that we won’t need but will satisfy our being not citizens but consumers. Mindful of the frost of Brescia, we improvise in clothing that also suits him Inuit they would consider excessive. Train. Grandstand. We leave the curve to the Pisans also because they could not go to the stands due to the usual crazy restrictions.
The winning choice is the ossobuco risotto soaked in a young and drinkable Domasino. Those who want to stay lighter will find unexpected kindness and dozens of stalls scattered around the city with all the delicacies of the valleys.
The small but genuine stadium allows a real contact with the players that we encourage as if we were at the Arena, a little unconscious and careless of the premises. We score immediately and hold on like lions with Cardinal Leverbe, defending hors categories, like the hills of the Tour de France. It suffers in the end, as always. Trademark on all victories, sweat, suffering and self-denial.
Blind faith in the vertical Hombre that on the bench draws masterpieces of tactics incomprehensible to those who do not have an eye trained for beauty. Come on Pisa, good Ugo! You enjoy it.
Photo: Gabriele Masotti
