TODAY dawned cloudy in Rome but, now, with just a couple of hours to go before the big kick-off and all human life descending on the Stadio Olimpico, the sun has burst through and the heat is on in every respect.
This morning, a half-hour walk by the banks of the Tiber from my hotel to the stadium offered only a few hints that the grand finale had arrived for this year’s Champions’ League.
Overnight, the police had strung yellow tape between the trees lining the banks of the river, presumably in a fairly feeble bid to stop match-goers from falling under the wheels of the relentless Rome traffic. Quite how they think a thin strip of tape will deter the cars from chasing the pedestrians – a popular pastime here – is another matter, however
As it happened, there weren’t too many signs of match-goers on the approaches to the stadium at that early hour, just a handful of fans in Barcelona shirts out getting their bearings. The United fans, presumably, were still sleeping off the night’s revelries back in the city centre.
But I did meet one Irish guy and his English friend who were already abroad on serious business. They had one match ticket between them and urgently needed another. The asking price, the Irish guy told me, was between 1,500 and 1800 euro, but he had no intention of paying that. 500 would be his maximum bid and, from past experience, he was pretty confident he could pull it off, even if he had to wait until just before kick –off.
Tickets were not a problem for the busload of excited kids who whizzed by on a trip around the city. ‘Players Escorts’ read the sign on the front – these were the young ‘uns who tonight will have the honour of holding hands with the stars of world football as they walk out on to the field of battle.
The stadium itself looks magnificent, the pitch a perfect shade of green under blue skies. A little while ago, they were still whitening the lines and giving the grass a final trim. At the Manchester United end, some of the empty seats are marked with sheets of white paper, creating the ghostly outline of tonight’s tribute to Matt Busby – ‘For Sir Matt,’ it will read when the fans fill in the blanks, alongside an image of the great man’s face.
As I write in the media centre, the whole place is buzzing now with activity, much of it frantic, as the final hours tick down to the blockbuster clash of Manchester United and Barcelona. Who'll win? The neutral in me hopes its football, the partisan is tending to Barca and the realist says Man U. Only one way to find out...
