The Daydreamer would try his best to convince you that this post is all about himself. Yes, for those of you who haven’t been paying attention - or seen his author’s page - the Daydreamer is a guy. Bet those sweet words don’t sound quite as sweet now, do they?

Don’t know where that came from, so….. let’s get to the point. The year was 1982. I was two years away from living in Vancouver and having the privilege of watching Wayne Gretzky at the peak of his offensive powers. Just over the Atlantic, Spain was set to host a dramatic (is it ever anything but?) World Cup. After a sluggish start with three draws, the Azzurri came alive in the elimination legs courtesy of a livewire Paolo Rossi. Six goals in the last three games (including a hat-trick in a 3-2 win against Brazil, arguably one of the greatest games in World Cup history) ensured the cup would return to Italy for a third time.

Now the last four World Cups:
Italy (1990) - defeated in semi-final by Argentina 4-3 on penalties
USA (1994) - defeated in final by Brazil 3-2 on penalties
France (1998) - defeated in quarter-final by France 4-3 on penalties
Korea/Japan (2002) - defeated in round of 16 by South Korea

Every tournament Italy does not win, there is always some form of controversy whether it was Roberto Baggio’s penalty over the crossbar in 1994 or Ahn Jung Hwan’s golden goal in 2002. Each time the Azzurri came in with a strong saquad only to walk away with nothing. The universal cry of every football fan, irrespective of language, would ring in your ears for weeks afterwards. And then came 2006.

I’ve watched every Italian game. I’ve cheered the Azzurri from the start. My team polo is a much slimmer fit than the look Marcello Lippi seems to be favouring right now. After each group game, I felt Italy would surely falter, wilting under the weight of expectation. And then came a break. Actually, let’s be honest, THE break of the tournament. But as I watched, I thought to myself: maybe luck is swinging Italy’s way this time. A weak Ukraine further supported that theory.

After watching the semi-final with the Daydreamer (I must say you were a very good sport in the face of defeat), I can only wonder if Fabio Cannavaro’s men are on the verge of treading the same lofty ground occupied by Dino Zoff & co in 1982. Sure, they don’t have an electric striker setting opposing goals alight but when they’ve needed a goal, someone has scored. Eleven goals, ten different scorers. A solid defense and the world’s best keeper for the few chances that do get through. The more I’ve seen of this team, the stronger I believe that this team is destined for victory. A pity France has followed a similar path to the final.

I, as does the rest of the football world, eargerly await the final. Maybe with World Cup medals around their necks, the boys won’t have to worry about their ‘Blue Steel’ looks…

FORZA AZZURRI! NOI SIAMO CON VOI!