A typical Sunday evening - late autumn. The chill catches the breath of thousands of strutting fans as they cross the Ponte Duca d'Aosta, or pour from the number 32 bus, and congregate outside the swimming pool and entrance to the Viale del Foro' Italico. Rush a last panino and a beer from the paninoteca van then grab a copy of Il Romanista from the piles stacked outside the gate.
Flash your ticket and documents before traversing the marble concourse towards the magnificent stadium. The pace picks up as the rythmic roar bellows from deep inside the stadium. The Curva will already be heaving. Clickety clack go the thousands of abandoned plastic vials of Borghetti as they scatter in your wake - testament to the exquisite taste of the coffee-liquer swilling Ultras already warmed up inside.
Finally the electonic turnstiles beeping you through and a cursory exam of your documents and your in - just before the tear gas sends you running as the Laziale attack the police line behind you at the gate. Brace yourself with an espresso a hot dog and a beer before ascending the stairway to heaven. Each step turns the volume up a notch as you approach the floodlight arena. You know the scene that awaits you by heart but it still makes the hair stand up at the back of your neck.
BOOM. The sonic wave from the bangers in the curve. You duck involuntarily, only the seasoned tifosi remain unfazed by these enormous thunderclaps. And the curva. It's two hours before kick off so the curves are not yet heaving but the hard core are there - a kind of tifosi sound check in place. Arms raise and fall in unison, familiar tunes belting out and the racous whistling drowning out the opposing curve's intial sound check.
The mood is often set this early. Tonight it doesn't feel as tense as some recent derbies. Roma are playing their worst football of recent years and Lazio are top scorers in the league. Animosities are being somewhat put to one side as it has been announced that tributes will be made, and honoured, by both sides to two young fans who lost their lives in tragic but dissimilar incidents:
Gabriele Sandri, 26, a lazio fan was shot dead a year ago by a policeman at a filling station and a young Roma fan, Nicolo, who died shortly before Roma's victory over Chelsea in an accident during the terrific storms that day.The mutual appreciation of each other's dead extended for the first ten minutes of the match as both curves sat in silence with flags down and only the striscioni appeared pleading for giustizia per Gabrielè as they did on the curve across the peninsula during november.
But before all that sentiment there is the traditional welcoming of the home and away teams to the playing area for warm-up. Half an hour prior to kick off is really the last moment you should be taking your seat for this drama.
'Taking your seat' of course means taking a seat as the uninitiated fret from row to row staring at the seat beside you and then again at their ticket before asking 'hai esse?'. No! You sit, or stand, where you feel comfortable and preferably near the curva. Dozens of agile ragazzi scale the perspex divide into the curva while the powerless security men imitate wrongly punished footballers with pleading hand gestures asking them not to.
Don't get over-excited or Francesco might have to save you from the security guards himself!
The teams leave and there are only moments before the real action begins. The giant screens flicker. Popolo GialloRosso! screams Carlo Zampa as the AS Roma badge appears over both curves. The Formazione are announced, the away team first. A chorus of whistles and boos until the last few players are announced and the fans start to anticipate Zampa's booming exultation of each Roma player. Totti always comes last in the starting XI to the biggest cheer of all.
The anthem Roma, Roma, Roma strikes up and the stadium stands with flags and scarves held aloft. As the music dies the ultras strike up 'Forza Roma Ale' and somehow amongst the din a whistle is blown and the play gets underway.
You cheer, sing, run to the barrier, sit, moan, whistle, jeer and cover your head in despair for the next 45 minutes. At halftime the ultras often entertain themselves by trying to attack the opposite curva from beneath the stadium. On this occasion there was no trouble apart from a small conflagration where the lazio and roma fans met on the northern end of the Tribune Tevere. The fans themselves sorted it out and one arrest was made.
Obiviously, as with any fairytale, the just are victorious, the dragon is slain blah de blah etc. In this case The Beast does the slaying and we all live happily ever after. Cue much rejoicing and the players throw their clothes to the crowd to the tune of Grazie Roma...
...ah, and we wander off into the night questioning the parentage of our beloved cugini...
