European Cross Country Championships at Venaria Reale (11-12-2022)

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I arrive at the parking lot around 9.20, about twenty minutes later than expected. The car thermometer reads -2. After a few steps I realize I've forgotten my backpack and go back to pick it up, even though I wonder if I'll really need it (and actually I'll never open it, I won't even take it off my shoulders). I don't know how far the race course is, but I think a lot: after a while it becomes clear that I will only glimpse the first competition, moreover without a binocular (I forgot it). Most of the people ahead of me go quiet, they don't seem to care. At 9.35 (the first race's start time I'm at the park gates and it's not clear how far the race course is: I'll get there 6-7 minutes later.

Naturally I stop in the first place I find, which is at the end of a descent: I see some athletes go by, without even understanding what position they are in. Then I start to leave, because I heard a bell and so I was convinced it was the last lap. Shortly after, however, I see the leaders pass on the other side, towards the beginning of the uphill section and I understand that the bell was from some fans: in reality there are still two laps. At first, I don't even understand who is in the lead as I am busy photographing him: I contravened my rule "you either live or film". I also see that the Italians are behind, but I don't understand how much. At the last passage I see an Irishman leading, followed by a Briton, another Irishman and two more Britons. I also count the athletes before the first Italian: they are 35. When, after the end, I will be able to see the screen, I will find out that the British won

After the race, I try to move to a more central position. You cannot go along the course, because shortly after you enter an area reserved for accredited visitors. I hear that nearby you can cross it and I get in line, but they say there is little time before the start of the U20 girls and they only let you cross it on the way out. Having to stay on this side, I settle along the descent, where you can see, from near or far, the entire ups and downs: there are still many free places. At the first lap a British is in the lead, at the second she will be joined by a Spanish, at the third the Spanish has taken off and the British has remained behind: in the end the first British, I don't know if it's the same, will be 17th. At the beginning it seems that the Italians are doing a little better than the boys: one can see one around 15th place, but on the second lap she will already be over 20th and on the third over 30th. She will close 32nd, and to find another Italian, we will have to go to 45th place.

Luckily the mixed relay comes next, where the music should change. I only move a little, upwards. When you see the athletes uphill for the first time, expectations are not disappointed: Italy is in the lead and will be even more clearly in the downhill passage. The athletes don't have names, but the Italian is easily recognizable: it's Arese, who will finish his leg with a 4-second lead. On the other hand, it will be more difficult to recognize the second fractionist, who is also in the lead. Seeing her from afar she looks like Sabbatini to me, but only after she passes in front of me (and I cheer her on with the wrong name) do I realize that she is Del Buono. From the website I will discover that she closed the leg in second place, overtaken by the Romanian. When the third fractionists pass, Italy will still be in the lead, with Bouih, followed by France and Spain: Romania will have lost a lot. We arrive at the last leg: when Sabbatini appears uphill (this time for real) she is third after Spain and France, but behind them there is a void, so at least a medal seems certain. At the start of the descent the Frenchwoman falls down, so when they disappear from my sight Spain is just ahead of Italy, with France just behind. We have to imagine the final, but from the reaction of the public near the finish line it would seem that Sabbatini has won and the website confirms it.

I finally cross the course: it's time for the victory ceremonies. We start with the U20 races, first individual, then team event. The Irish celebrate three medals: they are very numerous, the largest foreign group together with the French. Then the victory ceremonies stops and it's almost time for the start of the men's U23 race, so I think the mixed relay victory ceremony will take place later and I find a place. I reject the idea of staying in the finish area: there are too many people and then you wouldn't see much of the course, I look for a place on the hill that allows me to see the ups and downs and, turning around, to catch a glimpse of the finish line. When I've reached the top, instead, there's the victory ceremony of the mixed relay: you hear someone singing the anthem, but nothing comparable to the European swimming championships.

The men's U23 race starts 8 minutes late. Two Britons take the lead, followed by a Frenchman and they will make the gap more and more. In one lap, distracted by my neighbours' conversation  and misled by the shouts of the French, I miss the passage of the Briton, I think the Frenchman is in the lead. For a good part of the race the best Italian is Alfieri, who remains just in the 20, then he falls behind, but in return Fontana Granotto recovers to 14th place: with Alfieri 25th and Vecchi 30th we are fifth in the team event.

And we arrive at the other key race for us: the women's U23. However, a race that risks giving more pain than joy, given that any place other than first would be a big disappointment for Battocletti. I place myself a little higher than in the men's race. At the first lap you can already see Battocletti in the lead and Arnaudo very close to the first, then Arnaudo will give way, but on the other hand other Italians will recover. On the last climb Battocletti is still together with a British woman, but when she reappears on the descent she is alone and will make a gap more and more. I see the finish: she wins by 13 seconds. With Bado 14th and Selva 16th we win the team silver, behind Great Britain, and even without Battocletti (in case she had competed with the seniors) it would still have been a bronze.

I have to cross the course again because, at least from what I've seen, the toilets are only on the other side. I don't have time to get back, so for the senior women's race I have to position myself in one of the few places left fren:e along the descent. On the first pass, Can is seen in the lead, followed by Grovdal and Klosterhafen downhill the German's anomalous arm-wavingis even more noticeable. Towards the middle of the race, a Greek stops right in front of me, touching her thigh: it will pass quite a while before someone helps her or even just covers her (given the temperature). On the fourth lap I no longer see Can and I think I've missed her, but she's 12th: but then she won't be seen anymore for real, she'll withdraw. Among the Italians, Reina starts, around 15th place, then 20th, then she seems to slip towards 30th, but she will come back up to 21st. The second Italian will instead arrive 36th and the third even 50th (out of 63). In the last 4 places, 2 Italians and 2 Greeks. The last one, an Italian, in the penultimate lap I begin to fear will be lapped: she is coming down while the first ones are already going back up, in the end she will avoid being lapped, but not by much. The last descent arrives with Klosterhafen in front of Grovdal and a platoon of German women: 4 overall in the first 6, but then I discover that Grovdal won.

For the men's senior race I plan to go back to the other side of the course, but first I get the idea of getting some food. Then I give up because there is a queue and in the meantime the race has already started: I have to see it from the climb and in the second line, there are no more free spots. I move higher and higher hoping to find one, then resign myself to second line. After a while, listening to the conversations of those in front of me, I discover that one of them is Andra Lalli. He says he stopped due to injuries (he is still only 35 years old) and that he is very envious of those who still compete. He also says that his problem was being a specialist in a non-Olympic event like cross-country and for this reason he tried to transform himself into something he wasn't.

At the first lap you even see three Italians in the lead: Chiappinelli ahead of Y. Crippa and O. Zoglami. In the group I don't see J. Ingebritsen (I see his brothers instead) so much so that I wonder if he hasn't given up at the last moment, but he's already fourth on lap two and in the lead on third lap. Crippa always stays close to the leaders, but slightly behind, Chiappinelli and Zoglami a little further behind, but still in a good position. There is a group of Gibraltarians (including a 50-year-old and a 48-year-old) who immediately stay behind and by the fourth lap they will be lapped. In the last lap the lapped will be many, so much so that it will be difficult to distinguish the placements. We arrive at the last climb with a group of three in the lead and Crippa shortly after, who is fighting for fourth place, but can still hope for one of the top three to collapse. We also see that for the team competition it is a head-to-head fight between Italy and France. When they pass before me downhill, Ingebritsen has made a gap and looks around: it almost seems that he has done it on purpose to keep the race uncertain until almost the end. It ends with Crippa 4th, Chiappinelli 8th and Zoglami 13th (and of course Ingebritsen 1st): France wins the team event by one point over Italy.

I'd like to cross the course again for the victory ceremonies, but we have to wait for the last Gibraltarian, who will arrive 13 minutes behind, while Ingebritsen is already signing autographs along the way. At the beginning of the victory ceremonies, I feel suddenly tired I've been standing for five hours and until just before I was surprised I wasn't. I decide to see only those of the U23, individual and team, then I grab some food and go . The way back seems much longer than the outward journey and I'm also afraid of having trouble finding mycar, also considering that I don't know it well (it's a rented one): then I find it also thanks to a French minibus, which I remembered was nearby.

I head to the airport, fortunately against the tide. And with this, the sport events of 2022 are over.

Campionati europei di cross a Venaria Reale (11-12-2022)

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Arrivo al parcheggio verso le 9,20, una ventina di minuti dopo il previsto. Il termometro dell’auto segna -2. Dopo qualche passo mi accorgo di aver dimenticato lo zaino e torno a riprenderlo, anche se mi chiedo se poi mi servirà (e infatti non lo aprirò mai, non me lo toglierò nemmeno dalle spalle). Non so quanto disti il campo di gara, ma penso non poco: dopo un po’ diventa chiaro che la prima gara la intravedrò soltanto, peraltro senza binocolo (l’ho dimenticato). La maggior parte della gente che mi precede va tranquilla, non sembra preoccuparsene. Alle 9,35 (l’ora di partenza della prima gara) sono ai cancelli del parco e non si capisce quanto manchi al campo di gara: ci arriverò 6-7 minuti dopo. 

Naturalmente mi fermo nel primo posto che trovo, che è alla fine di una discesa: vedo passare alcuni atleti, senza nemmeno capire in che posizione sono. Poi faccio per andarmene, perché ho sentito una campanella e quindi ero convinto fosse l’ultimo giro. Poco dopo, però, vedo i primi passare dall’altra parte, verso l’inizio del tratto in salita e capisco che la campanella era di qualche tifoso: in realtà ci sono ancora due passaggi. Al primo non capisco neanche chi è in testa in quanto impegnato a fotografarlo: ho contravvenuto alla mia regola “o si vive o si filma”. Vedo anche che gli italiani sono indietro, ma non capisco quanto. All’ultimo passaggio vedo che c’è in testa un irlandese, seguito da un britannico, un altro irlandese e altri due britannici. Conto anche gli atleti prima del primo italiano: sono 35. Quando, dopo l’arrivo, riuscirò a vedere lo schermo scoprirò che ha vinto il britannico

Finita la gara, cerco di spostarmi in una posizione più centrale. Non si può costeggiare il percorso, perché poco dopo si entra in una zona riservata agli accreditati. Sento dire che lì vicino si può attraversarlo e mi metto in coda, ma dicono che c’è poco tempo prima della partenza delle ragazze U20 e lo lasciano attraversare solo in uscita. Dovendo restare su questo lato, mi sistemo lungo la discesa, dove si vede, da vicino o da lontano, tutto il tratto in saliscendi: ci sono ancora molti posti liberi. Al primo passaggio è in testa una britannica, al secondo sarà raggiunta da una spagnola, al terzo la spagnola ha preso il largo e la britannica è rimasta indietro: alla fine la prima britannica, non so se si tratti della stessa, sarà 17^. All’inizio sembra che le italiane vadano un po’ meglio dei maschi: se ne vede una intorno al 15° posto, ma al secondo passaggio sarà già oltre il 20° e al terzo oltre il 30°. Chiuderà 32^, e per trovare un’altra italiana bisognerà arrivare al 45° posto.

Per fortuna dopo viene la staffetta mista, dove la musica dovrebbe cambiare. Mi sposto soltanto di poco, verso l’alto. Quando si vedono per la prima volta gli atleti in salita, le aspettative non vanno deluse: l’Italia è in testa e al passaggio in discesa lo sarà ancora più nettamente. Gli atleti non hanno il nome, ma l’italiano è facilmente riconoscibile: si tratta di Arese, che chiuderà la sua frazione con 4 secondi di vantaggio. Più difficile sarà invece riconoscere la seconda frazionista, anch’essa in testa. Vedendola da lontano mi sembra la Sabbatini, ma solo dopo che mi sarà passata davanti (e l’avrò incitata col nome sbagliato), mi accorgo che si tratta della Del Buono. Dal sito scoprirò che ha chiuso la frazione al secondo posto, superata dalla romena. Quando passeranno i terzi frazionisti l’Italia sarà ancora in testa, con Bouih, seguita da Francia e Spagna: la Romania avrà perso parecchio. Si arriva all’ultima frazione: quando compaiono in salita la Sabbatini (stavolta davvero) è terza dopo Spagna e Francia, ma dietro di loro c’è il vuoto, quindi almeno la medaglia sembra sicura. All’inizio della discesa la francese cade, quindi quando spariscono dalla mia vista la Spagna è appena davanti all’Italia, con la Francia di poco dietro. Il finale lo dobbiamo immaginare, ma dalla reazione del pubblico vicino al traguardo sembrerebbe che la Sabbatini abbia vinto e il sito lo conferma.

Attraverso finalmente il percorso: è il momento delle premiazioni. Si comincia con le gare U20, prima individuali, poi a squadre. Gli irlandesi festeggiano tre medaglie: sono numerosissimi, il gruppo straniero più numeroso assieme ai francesi. Poi le premiazioni si interrompono e manca poco all'orario previsto per la partenza della gara U23 maschile, quindi penso che la premiazione della staffetta mista si faccia dopo e prendo posto. Scarto l'idea di restare in zona traguardo: c'è troppa gente e poi non si vedrebbe moltissimo del percorso, cerco un posto sulla salita che consenta di vedere il tratto di saliscendi e, girandosi, di intravedere il traguardo. Quando sono arrivato in alto, invece, si fa la premiazione della staffetta mista: si sente qualcuno cantare l'inno, ma niente di paragonabile agli Europei di nuoto.

La gara U23 maschile parte con 8 minuti di ritardo. Vanno in testa due britannici, seguiti da un francese e faranno sempre più il vuoto. A un giro, distratto dale conversazioni dei vicini e fuorviato dalle urla dei francesi, mi perdo il passaggio dei britannici penso che il francese sia in testa. Per buona parte della gara il miglior italiano è Alfieri, che rimane di poco nei 20, poi lui cede, ma in compenso Fontana Granotto rimonta fino al 14° posto: con Alfieri 25° e Vecchi 30° siamo quinti nella gara a squadre.

E si arriva all'altra gara clou per noi: l' U23 femminile. Gara che però rischia di dare più dolori che gioie, visto che per la Battocletti qualsiasi piazzamento diverso dal primo sarebbe una grossa delusione. Mi posiziono un po' più n alto rispetto alla gara maschile. Al primo passaggio si vede già la Battocletti in testa e l'Arnaudo molto vicina alle prime, poi l'Arnaudo cederà, ma in compenso recupereranno altre italiane. All'ultima salita la Battocletti è ancora assieme a una britannica, ma quando ricompare in discesa è da sola e farà sempre più il vuoto. Intravedo l'arrivo: vince di 13 secondi. Con la Bado 14^ e la Selva 16^ conquistiamo l'argento a squadre, dietro la Gran Bretagna, e anche senza la Battocletti (nel caso avesse gareggiato con le seniores) sarebbe stato comunque un bronzo.

Devo di nuovo attraversare il percorso perché, almeno da quello che ho visto, i bagni sono solo dall'altro lato. Non faccio in tempo a tornare, quindi per la gara senior femminile mi devo posizionare in uno dei pochi posti rimasti liberi lungo la discesa. Al primo passaggio, si vede in testa la Can, seguita dalla Grovdal e dalla Klosterhafen: in discesa si nota ancora di più lo sbracciarsi anomalo della tedesca. Verso metà gara si ferma una greca proprio davanti a me, toccandosi la coscia: passera un bel po' prima che qualcuno la soccorra o anche solo la copra (vista la temperatura). Al quarto passaggio non vedo più la Can e penso di essermela persa, invece è 12^: poi però non si vedrà più davvero, si ritirerà. Tra le italiane parte bee la Reina, intorno al 15° posto, poi 20°, poi sembra scivolare verso il 30°, ma rimonterà fino al 21°. La seconda italiana arriverà invece 36^ e la terza addirittura 50^ (su 63). Agli ultimi 4 posti 2 italiane e 2 greche. L'ultima, un'italiana, al penultimo passaggio comincio a temere venga doppiate: scene mentre le prime stanno già risalendo, alla fine eviterà il doppiaggio, ma non di molto. Si arriva l'ultima discesa con la Klosterhafen davanti alla Grovdal e a un plotone di tedesche: in tutto 4 nelle prime 6, ma poi scoprirò che ha vinto la Grovdal.

Per la gara senior maschile conto di tornare dall'altro lato del percorso, ma prima mi viene l'idea di prendermi da mangiare. Poi rinuncio perché c'è coda e intanto la gara e già partita: mi tocca vederla dalla salita e in seconda fila, non ci  sono più posti liberi. Mi sposto sempre più in alto sperando di trovarne uno, poi mi rassegno alla seconda fila. Dopo un po', ascoltando le conversazioni di quelli davanti a me, scopro che uno di loro è Andra Lalli. Racconta di aver smesso per gli infortuni (ha ancora solo 35 anni) e di invidiare molto chi gareggia ancora. Dice anche che il suo problema è stato essere una specialista di una prova non olimpica come il cross e per questo di aver cercato di trasformarsi in qualcosa che non era.

Al primo passaggio si vedono addirittura tre italiani in testa: Chiappinelli davanti a Y. Crippa e O. Zoglami. Nel gruppo non vedo J. Ingebritsen (vedo invece i suoi fratelli) tanto che mi chiedo se non abbia rinunciato all'ultimo momento, ma al secondo passaggio è già quarto e al terzo è in testa. Crippa rimane sempre vicino ai primi, ma leggermente staccato, Chiappinelli e Zoglami un po' più dietro, ma ancora in buona posizione. C'è un gruppo di gibilterrini (tra cui uno di 50 anni e uno di 48) che rimane subito staccato e già al quarto giro saranno doppiati. All'ultimo giro i doppiati saranno tanti, tanto che si faticheranno a distinguere i piazzamenti. Si arriva all'ultima salita con un gruppo di tre in testa e Crippa poco dopo, che lotta per il quarto posto, ma può ancora sperare nel crollo di uno dei primi tre. Si vede anche che per la gara a squadre è una lotta testa a testa tra Italia e Francia. Quando mi passano davanti in discesa, Ingebritsen ha fatto il vuoto e si guarda attorno: sembra quasi che abbia fatto apposta a tenere la gara incerta fino quasi alla fine. Si chiude con Crippa 4°, Chiappinelli 8° e Zoglami 13* (e naturalmente Ingebritsen 1°): la Francia vince il titolo a squadre per un punto sull'Italia.

Vorrei riattraversare il percorso per le premiazioni, ma bisogna aspettare l'ultimo gibilterrino, che arriverà staccato di 13 minuti, mentre Ingebritsen sta già firmando autografi lungo il percorso. All'inizio delle premiazioni, la stanchezza si fa improvvisamente sentire: sono in piedi da cinque ore e fino a poco prima mi meravigliavo di non essere stanco, Decido di vedere solo quelle delle U23, individuali e a squadre, poi mi prendo da mangiare e vado. Il ritorno sembra molto più lungo dell'andata e temo anche di faticare a trovare la macchina, visto anche che non la conosco bene (è a noleggio): poi la trovo anche grazie a un pulmino francese, che mi ricordavo fosse vicino.

Mi dirigo verso l'aeroporto, fortunatamente contro corrente. E con questo gli appuntamenti sortivi del 2022 sono finiti.

World Cup Qatar 2022: Brazil - Switzerland (28-11-2022)

 It's Brazil Day. It can be seen from the morning: many green and gold shirts around. I start the day with a trip to the FIFA Fan Festival, where I see some footage of Cameroon-Serbia, which the commentators will end up calling "probably the best MATCH so far". So I think back that one disadvantage of watching live events is that you can watch fewer races than you would on TV. Of course, however, that applies if you have nothing else to do at home: if I hadn't come here, I wouldn't have seen that match anyway because I would have been working. I then pass by Souq Waqif, where you can mostly see Ecuadorians singing and celebrating their team.

I start heading towards the stadium around 5.30: I think I have a good margin. Already at the entrance to the metro you can see the green-gold tide. I don't know how many of these are actually Brazilians, but definitely a minority. There's a crowd in the station, there's also a lot of police, like we have never been seen before. and the same will then be around the stadium (let's make it clear, nothing comparable to an Italian league match, even if not a risky one). They encourage us to enter the trains up to the capacity limit: I thought they would even push us, but then they don't (and in any case we are less crammed than in Rome at rush hour).

I leave the metro shortly after 8pm and the stadium doesn't seem that far away, so I think that finally, for once, I won't enter at the last minute. I was wrong. Stadium 974 (from the country's telephone code, therefore in Italy it would be Stadium 39) is temporary: it will be dismantled after the World Cup (they told the same of all stadiums, before the Cup was awarded to them) and it shows: it is full of pipes and containers in plain sight. Arriving at the check, at each gate they tell you to go to the next one, despite the fact that there are plenty of room; the long coils they had prepared are filled to no more than a quarter. Needless to say, they make us go in the opposite direction of my gate. When they finally let us in, the queue runs fast, I still think I have a good margin. But here the problems begin: they empty my rucksack, leaf through my books and tell me that I have to leave a few things in the deposit: some souvenirs that I had bought during the day (and it may make sense), but also the books and magazine La Settimana Enigmistica (Puzzle Week). La Settimana Enigmistica! At least I convince them to leave me the binoculars, pointing out that they are needed to watch the match (then I won't use them). And they also only opened one pocket, guess if they'd opened the other too.

I was desperate fearing that the deposit was on the opposite side, but they reassure me that I'll be quick and I won't have to queue again. Actually the deposit is closer than feared, there is no queue and they are very kind. The problem will be on the way back: first it takes me a while to convince them not to let me stand in line again (however short, almost everyone had already entered), then they open the backpack again, also the other pocket, and look at some things with suspicion (including binoculars). I'm starting to fear they'll make me go back to the warehouse and I think it's time I'll react badly and risk to be arrested.

Instead they let me through, but it's 6.45 pm and my gate is on the other side. I also make it worse going to the wrong one: I was convinced that mine was 4, instead it was 5. Then there are four flights of stairs to climb: I arrive exhausted. I'm still in the hallways when I hear the anthems playing and the Brazilian one being sung, and I still have to go to the bathroom. My seat is quite high, and I have to make my way through 16 seats that are almost all full, but I manage to get there just before kick-off. The regret remains of never having seen all the preliminaries of a match.

I'm about halfway into the second deck (out of two). It will continue to fill up even after the match has started, but some empty seats will remain, especially in the first ring, but also a bit in my sector (the seat on my left will also remain empty). Eventually they will announce about 43,000 spectators, which means that the stadium has more or less the same capacity as the first two I saw: it seemed bigger to me. You can see some red-crossed patches in the green-gold tide, especially in the first deck. Throughout the match, only Brazilian cheering will be heard: the Swiss will be seen singing and waving their flags, but they will always be overwhelmed

In the first half, Brazil attacks to my side. Many stand up when they approach the opponent's area, which rarely happens in the first half: they will take the first shot on goal in the 26th minute (against none of the opponents anyway) At halftime they will say that the Swiss goalkeeper will have made two "goal preventions", which I didn't understand if it's a different concept from "saves" and, if so, what the difference is. The stats they give in these World Cups are a bit strange. At halftime I don't think about moving: I'm still tired from the finish line. There's a singer performing: I see him on the screen, but I can't figure out where he is physically.

Play resumes, and Brazil takes a risk, with the ball remaining in his area for a while, without the Swiss being able to shoot. In the 10th minute Richarlison misses a catch from a few steps away. In the 22nd minute Rodrygo scores with a nice diagonal shot, but after two minutes of celebrations, on the pitch and in the stands, with the ball already in midfield, we realize that there is a VAR control. The goal was disallowed for offside, but the Swiss almost restarted from midfield: if I understand correctly, the offside was in a previous pass, not in the last. With about ten minutes to go, you see people starting to leave: it really seems incomprehensible to me, in such an important match and still balanced. In fact, the goals arrive shortly after, with Casimiro who takes advantage of a small space and slips into the corner. The Swiss are unable to react: the last minutes are a monologue, on the pitch as in the stands.

At the exit I have to go against the tide to get to the deposit, also fearing not to find it, having come out from a different point than the entrance. In the end I find it quite easily and immediately recover my stuff, but then I have to go back around in the opposite direction to get to the metro. There is a 20-minute queue to enter the metro: you pass the time with two folk shows, one with Arab swordsmen and one with Kenyan dances.

We have come to the end. When and where will be next time? At the next World Cup, to see five games I would have to stop for a couple of weeks or make long journeys. In any case, for the first time I leave a stadium sure that I will never go back, since in a few months it will no longer be there (ok, those who visited the Eiffel Tower in 1889 also said it...).

World Cup Qatar 2022: Japan - Costa Rica and Spain - Germany (27-11-2022)

Clicca qui per la versione italiana 

Today is the big day: for the first time in my life I will be watching two top-level football matches on the same day. In fact, I also believe that the last time I watched two football matches on the same day was in my high school days. We start with Japan-Costarica, in the same stadium as Wales-Iran. I leave the residence later than expected: to confirm how late I am at the metro station, I hardly see anyone with symbols of the two teams, will they all be there already? Upon arrival, I will see someone, especially from Japan. Already during the journey I seriously fear seeing the match started, when I arrive and see the queue to enter the fear becomes almost a certainty. Instead the queue flows more rapidly: although it was longer it takes me the same time as the day before yesterday, perhaps slightly less. At the check they still make me open all the compartments of my backpack (despite having x-rayed it), but they don't take anything out, let alone touch the magazines.

They are on the opposite side compared to two days ago, slightly closer to the entrance, and in the second deck (they are low decks, don't think of those of San Siro stadium in Milan). I don't see a corner flag as it is covered by a TV stand, but I won't miss anything: there won't be any corners from there. I get inside at 12.54 when the anthems are about to play: I sit in the first available seat and then, after the anthems, I go to my seat. The Japanese anthem is played first, but you don't hear it sung, even if the Japanese fans are a clear majority (and no, it's not without lyrics, I checked), then the Costa Rican anthem, and you hear it sung, the finale very loud.

To my left is a Frenchman who also occupies a good part of my seat, to my right a very passionate Japanese fan, with two flags in her hair: when she yells loudly she puts her hand to her mouth,or apologizes. I tell her not to worry: it's normal for a fan to scream! She always looks at her cell phone, I think he takes selfies all the time. I also notice that in my row I am the one who looks at his mobile the least (which is not common). I have a lot of time to observe my neighbors (and also my cell phone) because absolutely nothing happens on the pitch: in the whole first half, two unsuccessful crosses and a pushed back shot back Japan, a shot wide for Costa Rica. This is confirmed by the statistics for the first half: 0 shots on goal. I fervently hoped that Japan would score to see my neighbour's reaction.

At halftime I talk to the neighbour (in the picture) and I find out that she is actually a Filipina. She tells me that she loves Japanese culture very much. Also at the exit you will see many fans of Japan who do not look like Japanese, I will also meet an Italian family where the daughters had the colors of Costa Rica, the father of Japan (the mother none).

In the second half Japan starts strong and already after a minute challenges Navas (the only player of the two teams that I am able to recognize, also for his position). They almost always attack, but with poor results: towards half the time they have two free-kicks from the edge, but one ends up wide, the other on the wall. 10' from the end, a Costa Rican (whose name, I'll discover later, is Fuller) receives the ball on the edge of the area and overtakes the goalkeeper with a lob. The Costa Ricans make themselves heard, the Japanese remain silent for the rest of the game: it will be the Central Americans (if I understand correctly) who ironically shout "Nippon". In additional time the Asians have two chances, the best of the match, but it ends 1-0. At the exit, I meet a group of Costa Ricans who are singing mocking chants towards the Japanese: "Where are the Japanese? They went to... (a word I didn't understand)

I stop to eat at the mall, then I come back after a long walk to get to the subway: it would be opposite, but they force you to take it from the side of the stadium. I go out again around 7.15pm : the idea was to stop at the FIFA Fan Festival, maybe eat (but I'm not hungry) and then take the shuttle to the stadium. However, I'm late because the taxi finds traffic: so I decide to stop at the festival, but I can't find the buses at the start and I'm forced to get in, get out again and walk a long way. Qataris are specialists in making you take very long routes to places that are just a few meters away as the crow flies: I had already noticed this three years ago. I'm seriously afraid I won't make it by the start of the game.

At the end I take the bus around 8.30: it's almost empty, there were very few left to take it. On the screen it shows that we expects to arrive around 9.15, so I think I should make it, maybe by little. We arrive around 9.20 and the stadium can be seen nearby, so I think it's done. Even here, however, the distance as the crow flies is one thing, the one to actually do is another: to enter you will have to go almost half a round around the stadium. Stadium that has the shape of a Bedouin tent: from the outside it looks more like a fair than a stadium, from the inside it's very beautiful, but it always gives that impression. The checks go fast, I hope to get in soon because I'm at gate 18, which if this stadium was like the others it would be close to the entrance. Instead it's completely on the opposite side, and the gates are also spaced out: I'm afraid I won't make it for the kickoff again. I'm still in the corridors when I hear play the German anthem. I don't hear sing it, but I try to sing it myself. The Spanish one, which no one can sing (it's without lyrics) has already been played.

I make it in just before kick-off. I am in the first row of the upper half of the first deck (out of three). The stadium is much bigger than the others (almost 69,000 are present, as they will announce in the second half) and completely full, even if the last ones will enter once the game has begun. In my row there are four fans of Germany and two of Spain, but none are from their respective countries: those on my left looked German, but they are Americans. Today's lesson is that to support a national team you don't necessarily have to be from that country. we, used to being represented in big events (but for Italy not so much anymore..), don't realize it, and fake news like the one about fake fans are spread. It's not clear which fans are more, also because the colors are similar, but those of Spain will be heard more.

Here we go: in the first half, Germany attacks to my side. An opportunity for each side in the first 10': shot deflected off the crossbar for Spain, counter-attack stopped by the goalkeeper, coming out for Germany. Shortly after half an hour Spain misses an incredible goal, but it was offside. In the 39th minute Rudiger scores with a header following the development of a free-kick: the German fans are exultant, but the Spaniards will feel much more excited when it is disallowed for offside after VAR. I don't move during the break, even though I'm close to the exit: so I don't have to make way in the line: the passage is narrow. They turn off the lights and tell us to turn on the cell phone flashlights, to give the impression of a starry sky. Play resume, and in the 17th minute Morata receives the ball in the small area and scores. Immediately after, Asensio misses the doubling. Germany attacks in a disorderly way, making mistakes by taking risks on the counterattack: you can hear some chorus of their fans, who until now had only made themselves heard after the disallowed goal. In the end they equalized with a substitute striker, who I had never heard of, named Fuellkrug.

It ends 1-1. At the exit, another round around the stadium to take the shuttle, which is not full this time either (there are more people going in other directions). I see a lot of people heading towards the parking lots, which means that most of the spectators were locals, unless they had rented cars. The bus finds traffic: we arrive at the Fan Festival around 2am.