Rosanero

Deep into summer, the Sicilian city, Palermo, is almost vacant during a holiday weekend. The scene takes place in a parking lot filled with street vendors selling hot food and "Barbi-Pink" sports paraphernalia. I am at the tailgate festivities for a friendly match at the Palermo futbol stadium. The environment is  casual as people refresh themselves with cold beer. The largest bits of commotion rise from voices selling jerseys and a band of teens excited for the pre-season event.  

These guys thought I was some kind of promoter 

When I gave them my blog address they went to it immediately from their mobile device 

I guess salmon-pink was close enough; I was accepted. 
 My Brazilian friend Edu (on the left) was too.


The dedicated boys wearing bright pink make it obvious that their passion for the team is stronger than their identity with gender norms. Young masculinity melts away with the Mediterranean heat to reveal a love for the Palermo Rosaneros and fellow supporters. 

A large couch bus drove by carrying the challengers. Hissing and hollering signified the end of the pre-game festivities. The pink crowd followed the bus, filled with the Turkish team, into the stadium. 

The Stadium, although mostly empty, held something inexplicable. Perhaps it was the glow coming from the reflection of sinking sun off the surrounding cliffs. Possibly it was the magnificent green grass grown with a little something special. Maybe, my perception was altered by the Sicilian street food and the stadium was mediocre. In the end, it was probably the fact that soccer in Italy is more than just a sport. The feeling I felt, most likely, came from the lingering presence of generations past. 

The Castle overlooking the stadium, where the Pope recently stayed

The first sight of a glorified grass field ignites vibrations that are familiar 

Edu fell quickly for the Rosaneros

Yankee Stadium does not give you this kind of view

Not a ballpark frank, It is fired potatoes and chick-peas in a bun- soaked with lemon juice. 

Although entertained by the game, the 3-2 loss left me concerned for Palermo. Before the game I learned that Palermo was close to entering into the champions play last season. After the team learned they would not receive financial rewards for advancing closer to glory, they lost five consecutive games. Personally, I was confused. I wondered, how could a European futbol player be so consumed with money when this sport is supposed to be about passion. I felt like it showed poor competitive character. The Palermo fan who told this to me understood the teams lack of motivation.  He said this is their job...What about the job of bringing honor to the city. I am sure during Rome's rule this apathy would have not been tolerated. 

After the loss, the fans booed their players in disgust and in fear for a poor season ahead. As we walked home the vendors announced all products were on sale because the team was now worthless. I wondered about the future for the Rosaneros. In a nontraditional love-triangle, neither players, managers, nor fans were satisfied.  When did fanaticism become conditional, and when did athletes stop performing for pride? 

*Coming Soon*...While volunteering at an Italian SCUBA shop I am thankful language is universal under the sea...