The Beautiful Game

July 11, 1982, I was 8 years old (ok you can do the math now..lol)and it was a hot summer day. For some people, it meant school came to an end, and it was time for summer vacation. But for Italians, it meant a lot more than a “usual” summer day. Italy won the World Cup. Paulo Rossi was the hero and Italy beat Germany 3-1 that day.

Every 4 years in soccer, the World Cup is watched and followed. It is a time where all people come together and cheer on “their” team. Flags come out, and so does patriotism. It seems like everyone and anyone has passion for a sport they usually do not follow for 4 years. Kids that are second generation, third generation, and sometimes fourth generation Italian are “Italian” or “Brazilian” or British” for 4 weeks. It is an amazing and wonderful show of passion for their heritage.

After Italy won the cup back in 1982, I remember my father went nuts. In fact, all my family did. We set off our house alarm to make some noise, and then we packed up the familia and headed off to St.Clair. We celebrated with all the other Italians, and I remember like it was yesterday, it was just amazing. 4 years ago, my own children were able to experience the same thing I did, when I was a kid. Celebrating with all other “Italian” kids, waving the green, white and red flag in the air for all to see and celebrate.

Everyone is proud of whom they are and where they “came” from, but for me being Italian is something that I just am. I was raised in an Italian home, by Italian parents, in an Italian neighbourhood. My sandwiches were called sangwiches and bologna to me was a city in Italy. My parents were first generation Italians and like many other families I knew, they followed many of the traditions. Sauce in the summer, sausages in the winter and wine in the cantina..lol. Eating is very important and it is taken very seriously. It is an absolute insult to refuse anything at an aunts’ house, and espresso is a common beverage for children under 6.

As time passes, so have some of the traditions. Fast food is now not a luxury but a necessity on nights that we just don’t have time. Most people no longer make the sauce; they just buy it at Fortino’s because it is the “same” thing. Wine is purchased at the LCBO, and visiting an aunt is done maybe once a year, in a rush.

My grandparents came to this country to have a better life for their kids. They had a dream and a luggage..lol..no but seriously, they wanted more than what they had in the old country. They brought their traditions, and passed it on to their kids. My parents did the same to me, and I am trying to do the same to my own children.

On Friday, soccer is alive again. I see the flags already on the cars. The jerseys are worn, and the caps are being sported. It is the time for all to gather and share a few laughs, a few groans, and tons of cheers. The bars will be packed, the TVs will be on, and the world will be watching. Many Canadians will be what they were raised to be; Proud to be of Brazilian blood, German roots, or French background. They will be glued to the screen for the love of their country, the love of the game and the love of the traditions.

It is labelled the “beautiful” game, and now that I am older I can really appreciate why...it’s the shorts..lol. It is exciting and passionate, and only in this country can so many people have the freedom to root, to cheer and to be loud and clear of whom they want to win. Just for 1 month, every 4 years, Canadians put away the red and white Maple leaf and replace it with whatever flag reminds them of who they are and where they came from...and that’s what makes it the “Beautiful Game.”
That’s me peace today!

Cherry Tomato Salad
2 packages tomatoes
1 clove garlic sliced thin
4 bunches basil chopped large
1/4 thinly sliced red onion
1/4 cup olive oil
salt
dried oregano
1/4 cup black olives with pit (wrinkly ones)

Cut up tomatoes and put in a large bowl. Add basil, garlic and onion. Pour oil, salt and oregano. Mix and top with olives.