The cup that cheers
The scene was Bari town hall where the World Cup trophy was on public display under the watchful eye of the carabinieri. A young Italian boy, under the even more watchful eye of his father, joined the queue of locals and Irish supporters who were mounting the stage in the council chamber to have their pictures taken standing behind the golden trophy, safe inside its glass case. When it came to his turn, the young lad’s eyes were like saucers as he stared at the glittering prize, before his beaming dad squeezed his shoulders, kissed him on the cheek and, reluctantly, led him away.
A couple of minutes later, one of the guards noticed that the boy was still looking back longingly from the door and, with a little conspiratorial nod of his head, motioned him and his father back onto the stage. Then the cop stepped forward, raised up the glass case and invited the boy to place his hands on the trophy. The mixture of disbelief and ecstasy on his face as he lifted the World Cup was simply wonderful to behold. Here, you realised, was a moment he would remember for the rest of his life — the day in Bari that little Vito got to emulate Fabio Cannavaro on that famous night in Berlin in 2006.