AS Roma: Generations — Terrace Edition

Words: Damiano Benzoni

Images: Damiano Benzoni

Tell me what it is that makes us feel united even when we’re far away…

It’s a strange life, being a supporter far away from one’s team. I know some say you are born with a team and that’s that. But love has complicated ways, you know.

And the only team I feel guilty not watching week in, week out lies 1700 kms from me and I’ve only got to see it live twice. With not even a win.

I didn’t fall in love with AS Roma for the image of the sea of flags of the Curva Sud. Nor for the sight of Francesco Totti’s artistry with the ball.

The love just seeped in from open windows into the flat in Rome where I moved in with my then girlfriend, now wife. I could not even afford the scrappy connection to see pirated matches. But I could hear them, loud and clear, from the windows. Bellows of celebration, profanities of dejection, explosions of raw joy.

It was alive, even in a neighbourhood in the Capital’s outskirts. But my passion became fully fledged only when I left Rome, as though it had to be the Eternal City’s tattoo on my heart.

My father-in-law surely appreciated that, and my wife jokes that I did it to ingratiate him. It sure has given us discussion topics and some kind of commonality.

Born and raised in Rome, he chose Roma even though his father was a Lazio fan. It made sense that the first time I got to see Roma live would be with my wife and him. It was our Christmas present for him, and we drew 1-1 with Sassuolo.

The second occasion was a bit more clandestine. My wife was due in two weeks’ time and we decided to go to San Siro together for an away Milan-Roma, which we lost 2-1 in the 95th minute. Apparently the wee lad kicked inside the belly as Federico Fazio scored Roma’s only goal.

Then we moved to Berlin, and had no chances to go to the stadium anymore. But the passion kept being alive, with the local Roma Club regularly gathering for every match and ensuring a proper atmosphere. After seeing a match there with me, my father-in-law told me: “You’ve taken me to the Curva Sud”.

©Damiano Benzoni/ Terrace Edition. AS Roma vs Cremonese.

The Tevere Parterre is definitely not the Curva Sud. But it was the cheapest ticket still available when we decided to repeat the present and buy my father-in-law a ticket for the Coppa Italia tie against Cremonese.

Again: him, my wife and me. We had a fleeting temptation to take our five-year-old. But with the trip we needed to do, it would be far too late for him.

It was a cheeky game, as Cremonese is a Serie B side that kicked out Roma from the same competition last year, and Roma has a shocking record of upsets conceded in the early rounds of the Coppa Italia.

The scene seemed set when, after half an hour of Roma dominance, Cremonese’s Tsadjout capitalised his team’s only chance on a counterattack.

The Tevere Parterre, again, is definitely not the Curva Sud. It is close to the pitch and its crowd is content to listen to the Curva, rather than sing along, and stay seated.

It’s mainly families, young kids and foreign supporters. Our neighbours were an Australian couple from Adelaide who had shifted to our side because they were pissed that people stood up too often. We didn’t have much to share.

In front of us, instead, was the best thing about the evening. Three generations of Romanisti: father, grandfather and six-year-old son. Probably the first time at the Olimpico for the boy, who knows.

The lad, Dybala’s name on his back, constantly stood up on the seat, eager to get a better view. His father told him to stay lower, worried that I might be annoyed by him obstructing my view. I was just so endeared, and reassured him that he could just relax.

We chatted a bit, making sense together of the substitutions and tactical changes. And I entertained the lad by trying to keep some singing alive, even in that part of the stadium.

When the lad saw Dybala take the pitch, he became frantic and he turned to us smiling when Lukaku scored the equaliser. Then, when Dybala scored the winner from the spot, he was just ecstatic.

With only a couple of minutes remaining, the family excused themselves, greeted us warmly and made their way towards the exits in order to get the boy home before trams would get too crowded.

The lad turned to me and we exchanged a fist pump and a “Forza Roma”.

Then, finally, the three whistles came and I could celebrate my first ever Roma win at the stadium, as the notes of Antonello Venditti’s “Grazie Roma” filled the Olimpico: “Tell me what it is that makes us feel united even when we’re far away…”

Romanisti

Going to Berlin

Typisch Deutsch

Olim Palus: Once a swamp

Mendrisio: Brave New World