Dear Azzurri (AKA the Italian national soccer team),
Today, you have disappointed me. I woke up at 6:30 AM to prep for the game, which included stretching, setting up ESPN, and getting a protein heavy breakfast within arm's length. I wanted to make sure I was alert, focused, and fueled for what should be a nice, easy win. Wearing my "Forza Italia" shirt from 2006, I positioned myself on the couch for maximum cheering ability.
Little did I know then that there'd be very little cheering. Instead of the champions I rooted for during the last cup, I was faced with a team that looked like they ate too much mozzarella this morning. You moved slower than my Nonna Lucia, and she's dead. You needed a personal invitation to approach the ball. You'd leave Slovakian players completely alone to chase a ball two other Azzurri were already on. Then, said isolated Slovakian player ran past you and stole the ball, like 74 times. Speed wasn't your only impairment, oggi. Skill was also out to lunch. In pee-wee soccer, I learned that you never pass center in the box. As a defender, I took this very seriously, even at 5 years of age. Only a stronzo would do that, right? Oh yes, right. Well, unfortunately, that stronzo is on your team...and he's much older than 5.
I have to admit, the last two goals were nice, even the one where you were off-sides. Maybe your clock was off but those happened in the last 10 minutes of the game. Poor planning, I have to say. You might want to bring an umbrella on the plane. I have a feeling it'll be raining in Italy when you return...raining rotten tomatoes.