Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 23

           "]…YOUDON’THAVEAHEART,ALBERTINI!!!!YOU’REAFAKER!Look,nothinghappened…Comeon,comeon,hey,yes…Muchbetter,Albertini,muchbetter,yesyesyes,thereitis,beautiful,brilliant,oh,excellent,thereitisnow…inthegoal,inthegoal,inthe-FUUUUUCKYOUUUUUUU!!!

           Oh,itwassuchanexquisiteandluckymomentinmylifetobesittingrightinfrontofthisman.Ilovedeverywordoutofhismouth.Iwantedtoleanmyheadbackintohisoldlapandlethimpourhiseloquentcursesintomyearsforever.Anditwasn’tjusthim!Thewholestadiumwasfullofsuchsoliloquies.Atsuchhighfervor!Whenevertherewassomegravemiscarriageofjusticeonthefield,theentirestadiumwouldrisetoitsfeet,everymanwavinghisarmsinoutrageandcursing,asifall20,000ofthemhadjustbeeninatrafficaltercation.TheLazioplayerswerenolessdramaticthantheirfans,rollingonthegroundinpainlikedeathscenesfromJuliusCaesar,totallyplayingtothebackrow,thenjumpingupontheirfeettwosecondslatertoleadanotherattackonthegoal.

           Laziolost,though.

           Needingtobecheeredupafterthegame,LucaSpaghettiaskedhisfriends,"Shouldwegoout?"

           Iassumedthismeant,"Shouldwegoouttoabar?"That’swhatsportsfansinAmericawoulddoiftheirteamhadjustlost.They’dgotoabarandgetgoodanddrunk.AndnotjustAmericanswoulddothis-sowouldtheEnglish,theAustralians,theGermans…everyone,right?ButLucaandhisfriendsdidn’tgoouttoabartocheerthemselvesup.Theywenttoabakery

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