SS Lazio Diary

2005-2006 season

Since leaving sunny Rome our attendance at matches has sadly become a much rarer pleasure. There have been some fantastic highlights of the last few months, not least the spectacular January derby victory, and we really have no excuse for failing to write about them. Perhaps, if we get time, we'll reminisce about the joy on the terraces, and the rabid worship of Di Canio by all around us. It's much better to experience the thrills for yourself, though, so take our advice, follow our example, book a cheap flight to Rome, get to the stadium and start singing.

18 May 2004: The end of the season

Well, we finished with sixth place, which doesn't reflect performances on the pitch. We easily played better football than Parma and Inter, but are paying the price for appalling refereeing and for our strikers' mistakes. The Coppa Italia takes away the sting, however, as fans paint an extra cup symbol onto their flags (this is our fourth) and point out to Roma fans that they won nothing.

The stadium was packed and almost entirely pale blue, as everyone wore their special Lazio shirts for the last time this season. Coppa Italia stories were swapped: some had been in Turin (like Football in Rome), others had driven to Fiumicino to welcome the team back to Rome at 3am. Towards the end of the match, anticipating the usual end-of-season pitch invasion, the hated police emerged and began lining up in front of the fans. There were boos and chants of 'outside!', but it wasn't until a Lazio representative came and had words that they reluctantly disappeared back down their tunnels. The fans poised on the barriers and those crowding behind them knew that the team planned a lap of honour with the Cup, and weren't planning to endanger that. And when the team did their triumphal circuit with their small children in tow, the atmosphere was a light-hearted family party, with no invasions or other excesses. Albertini's small son managed to kick the ball towards goal: when he finally scored the entire stadium cheered the tot. Mihajlovic proved himself to be everybody's dream babysitter: he led a chain of children (three or four of them his) hand-in-hand around the running track behind the Cup, and proceeded to play 'goalie' while one child practised shooting (naturally, he somehow managed to miss the save each time, to roars of approval from the Curva Nord). The children were included in the celebratory photographs in front of the Curva: it was a lovely way to end a season which has been notable for the cheerful family atmosphere at the stadium. Thanks to special ticket prices there have been more women and children at the Olimpico, more season-ticket holders altogether, and very little trouble. Bitterness at the referees, and occasional frustration at our strikers - although even they aren't exiled from the fans' affections - but on the whole a great atmosphere and near-constant warm support for the team. We're going to be saying goodbye to several of our players: Stam's already gone, our captain Favalli wants to leave Lazio after twelve years, and no-one knows what will be the club's financial destiny. But as we folded away our Lazio cushions, took our last photos, said farewell to our terrace companions, we all agreed that we'd be renewing our season tickets: 'See you next game'.

14 May 2004: THE COPPA ITALIA IS OURS!!!

I set off for Turin the day before the game, to see a bit of the city. However, the football naturally dominated the trip. On the seven-hour train journey north I sat opposite two other travelling fans, with tickets for the Tribuna. I'd hoped to see them again, but somehow lost their phone number. I had bought one of the few (three thousand odd) tickets for the Settore Ospiti, the Lazio section of the stadium. Ridiculously, Lazio hadn't requested or been allocated more tickets for the game, and so thousands more fans were travelling without tickets, or with tickets for other parts of the stadium, like my train companions. Some would obviously use these tickets to enter the already-sold-out Lazio section - it was all mismanaged and potentially dangerous. Anyway, the tension mounted over the next twenty-four hours. Turin turned out to be a pleasant city, although given the frequent showers it was fortunate that most of the central streets were under colonnaded porticoes. Wandering along a street parallel with my hotel on Wednesday morning, I came across the Juventus team coach outside their hotel, with the players emerging to climb aboard for a trip to their training ground. As Nedved, Del Piero and the others passed by, I tried to focus bad luck on them, although they didn't seem to notice.

When the time came to head for the stadium, we took the special bus with an hour or two to spare. Surprisingly empty, the bus headed out of town, along miles of unattractive suburban roads - the kind of ugly peripheral area that is so common around Italian cities. Finally we reached the stadium and got our first sight of the Juventus fans, congregating in their black and white scarves, and urinating by the roadside (not something we're accustomed to at the Olimpico). Naturally my scarf was hidden deep in my bag at this point, although the blue clothing was something of a give-away. Following signs around to the 'Est' or eastern side of the stadium, more Lazio fans became visible. And outside our sector there were crowds of hard-bitten travelling fans, mostly young and male. There were just two narrow gates to get through, so a huge crowd had built up (scarves on at this point), although it was fairly orderly. Heavily armed police clustered around warily. Finally we were in, and as predicted there was such a huge crowd in the sector that already, nearly an hour before kick-off, there was no room left. There was chanting, shouting, bad temper and fans endeavoured to persuade the police to open up an adjacent sector for us. But of course Juventus had sold tickets to their fans for nearby sectors, and the police weren't prepared to let the two sets of fans within throwing distance of each other. The situation was ridiculous - it had been obvious all along that this was going to happen, but unbelievably the police were still playing it by ear on the night. Heading high for safety reasons, I found myself crowded onto the steps in the third level. It felt very unsafe, but luckily I don't suffer from vertigo. The pushing eased a little when the police finally opened up some of the terrace alongside us, which promptly filled up, leaving fans still stuck outside the entrances.

Anyway I clung to my small piece of step as we shouted, cheered and insulted the Juve fans in the build-up to kick-off. Things started well, but soon deteriorated as Juventus outplayed us. Lazio didn't seem co-ordinated - a clever dummy and back-pass would be wasted, Corradi totted up his normal tally of missed chances as the fans began cursing him. Giannichedda was great: 'Grande Giuliano' sighed a man next to me, and the other players had their moments, but all at different times. There was a deathly stillness when Juventus scored their first goal. At half time we were still the mathematical winners but there was a feeling of gloom underlying the brave singing. A friend rang from Rome, where they were watching to the game on TV, to find out what it was like in the flesh, and we couldn't give a very positive answer. And when the second half started with Del Piero's goal it really looked as though we had come all this way to go home empty handed. The idea of extra time and penalties was possibly worse than losing outright. 'Non mollare mai', don't give up, we sang, and the players responded. We were missing chances (mostly Corradi, who we were roundly cursing), but at least we were attacking and looking dangerous. And then, unbelievably, Corradi managed to get one into the net. Total mayhem in the stands. Everyone was falling over, jumping about, crazed with glee. The steps weren't a great place to be - some of us got knocked downwards into piles of people; luckily I managed to crouch down in safety. Suddenly everything looked different, and we knew we were going to do it. And when Fiore scored - brilliantly as usual, cleaning up where the forwards fail - that was it. Bliss. Singing, celebrating Lazio, insulting the Juventus fans, and anti-Roma chants (naturally). The rest of the stadium started to empty as the Juve fans headed homewards, and it began to be obvious just how much of the crowd had actually been laziale all along.

The final whistle sealed our delight, and the podium was set up, as some revoltingly bad-taste young cheerleaders cheapened the evening with groin-thrusts and knicker-flashing (something to do with football sponsers Tim, a mobile phone company for whom, like others in Italy, nearly-naked women is the advertising of choice, despite the fact that half their market is female and offended). Anyway, we made our own entertainment, singing some anti-Roma songs. The team ran over hand-in-hand to celebrate with us, throwing themselves down in a celebratory slide with our vocal accompaniment. The Lazio fans began their 'jump up and down if you're not a Roma fan' routine, and down below us the players joined in and bounced along with us - even the tough professional Stam. Then they headed back to the podium to collect the trophy. Thanks to the advertising hoardings placed behind them, we couldn't see this bit, but it wasn't too long before they came back waving the gleaming gold cup in front of us. Muzzi, a Lazio fan born and bred, was wearing only underpants by now.

There were so many Lazio fans in the rest of the stadium, waving their scarves now that the Juventini had left, that the team promenaded the cup in front of the main tribuna too, greeted by small crowds of celebrating fans. The players ran around with the cup, playing with it. Stam, who generally keeps the lighter side of his character hidden beneath that forbidding exterior, messed around wearing it on his head, until he was tackled by a team-mate who wrested it from him. Meanwhile, we were singing: 'Romanista, are you watching the tv?' and other songs, some more vindictive, some less. Then the players headed off (straight back to Rome, where they were greeted at the airport by thousands more fans), and we were left waiting for the police to let us out of the stadium.

The last thrill of the evening was the police-escorted bus convoy that took the fans to the stadium. Traffic was held up for us as we raced by, scarves and flags waving from the windows, cheering the Lazio fans who hooted us from their cars, camper vans and mini-buses, and yelling insults at everyone else. People came out of houses and bars to watch the orange buses pass - some were presumably Torino fans, to judge by the approval they showed. With the split-personality typical of the Ultras, one man was shrieking appalling insults at a passing Juventus fan. Then he inadvertently knocked my hand, and turned back immediately: 'Gosh, I'm so sorry, are you ok?'. Just like the ladies' toilets before the game, when a nervous group of tough-looking men entered, hoping the cubicles were all empty. Disturbing a woman, one of them retreated, overcome with embarrassment and apologies, while his similarly-embarrassed friends scolded him. There were moments of worry. Some fans obviously passed the sketchy security checks with fireworks and various kinds of missile, some of which headed for Juventus fans (they replied in kind) and most of which headed for the pitch. At one point a fire by the advertising hoardings filled the ground with smoke. Stupid incidents which mean the club will probably be fined or even banned from the Olimpico. Most stupid of all was one chap who lit a blazing flare in the entrance, where fans were all crowding in. Those in front couldn't escape; there was a barrier and then a drop, all they could do was push further forward. Luckily, what could have been a very dangerous situation passed off ok. I did wonder if we were being tear-gassed at one point - a couple of men in front of me were clutching their scarves over their noses and mouths. Then I noticed what the youth in front of them was smoking - his neighbours obviously didn't wish to get stoned along with him. Rushing along on the buses, the city-rivalry underlying Italian football became evident. 'Mamma mia - euoh' an exhausted boy raised his head to say in a broad Roman accent, looking out of the window: 'how ugly!'. We were passing the Fiat works at the time, which prompted more anti-Juve songs. Finally the fans - who had arrived by train from Rome hours before - piled onto the special train which was to take them straight back to the capital, presumably to wave flags and sing from the windows all the way south. My preference for civilisation, however, led me back to my hotel near the main station, along with two fans who'd travelled from Milan for the game and who were waiting the five am train home. Finally time for some rest and some very sweet dreams.

3 May 2004: Referees in Italy

Lazio 1 - Reggina 1 - For Lazio, yesterday's match ended with the frustration and bitterness becoming so common. Yesterday's referee was perhaps more incompetent than hostile - but either way, his mistakes all favoured Reggina. He stopped play so often that it was rare for more than four passes to be strung together. During the Italian national game last week, the TV commentator observed that since the referee was English, he'd allow the teams to play on more than viewers were used to. In Italy referees are constantly whistling, with free kicks awarded every few seconds. It's no wonder that 'diving' is seen as a Serie A trait - winning free kicks is crucial. If referees waved the play on more often, the players wouldn't hit the turf half as often.

Here, the referees really do control the game (with help from the linesmen). If we seem to complain a disproportionate amount about them, it's because here they can make or break your team. Promising play is stopped by a free kick awarded to the opponents, goals are declared invalid, an attack is signalled offside, penalties are awarded for incidents which two minutes later, at the other end of the pitch, are ignored. Everyone knows that some referees are fans of certain squads. Others have 'close ties' with clubs, or with club presidents. The head of the football league, and the referee's boss, is the chairman of AC Milan. Most referees near retirement age depend on future earnings from TV. The TV channels are almost all controlled by Berlusconi who is the owner of AC Milan. Clubs like Juventus are known to send expensive presents to referees. The football establishment earns its cash largely from TV deals - and the earnings will be much greater if certain popular clubs are high-placed (Sky don't get so many subscriptions from Perugia fans as they would from Napoli fans).

There's no consensus on how corrupt the system is, but everyone knows it's very flawed, t o say the least. Every team has a list of referees who are 'against' them, and everyone knows the referees most favourable towards Milan, or Juve. A referees past statistics are some of the most pored-over details before a game, and the announcement every Friday of the referees designation is nervously awaited, then hotly debated. Some of the smaller clubs have threatened to take the league to court. All of the conspiracy theories seemed a bit silly when we arrived in Italy three years ago. Disappointed fans will always exaggerate. But now we've seen enough to know that there are very strange things going on. Even at best, it's a case of referees being unduly influenced by popular opinion, scared of the consequences of their decisions, or just plain incompetent. We've seen referees trying to find incidents for which they can award a penalty - you can usually spot it in advance. We've seen referees - nearly every week - applying rules differently for the two teams on the pitch. We've seen a referee -Rosetti, at the derby - decide not to give a deserved free kick, listen to the howls from the crowd, and realise that this time perhaps he can't get away with it. AFter a hesitation he whistled and we got one of the few decisions in our favour. We've seen players blatantly flout the rules and get away with it (encroaching on a free-kick taker, demanding an opponent is sent off, diving, pushing and pulling - Totti is a particular culprit)

Anyway, maybe soon the much talked-about plan to import foreign referees will actually be put into action. Or some new training and disciplining for current referees will sort them out. Hopefully before Trefoloni shows his face at another Lazio game. Or Rosetti, or Bolognino, or any of our other foes. Even Collina is far from infallible.

On a brighter note, yesterday's bitterness was alleviated by the news of Inter's defeat (we're level with them now, and behind fourth-placed Parma). And, most of all, our day was made by Milan's victory over Roma and consequent Serie A triumph. Journeying back through Rome the Lazio ultras were unstoppable: 'The scudetto's gone, the scudetto's gone!' 'Roma haven't won a thing,' 'Totti's going,' cheers for ex-captain (current Milanista) Alessandro Nesta etc. When Milan scored, a couple of minutes into the game, there were wild celebrations in the Stadio Olimpico - the news spread like wildfire, long before the announcement was made.

And on an even brighter note, we've booked our trip to Turin next week to see the second leg of the Coppa Italia final.

22nd April 2004

Now they're not going to win the Scudetto - they're not going to win anything. That was the message we sang to the Roma fans at the end of the derby yesterday, and that was the thought which sent us home fairly satisfied. Lazio put on a splendid performance for two-thirds of the match, despite the hostile refereeing (again!). At the end of the game Roma had twelve men on the pitch (maybe 14 if you include the linesmen); we had ten. Rosetti carried on where he left off refereeing the last, abandoned derby, and spent the second half visibly keen to give penalties against us and send off our players. Everyone feels it was a moral victory, and a great Lazio match. But that we could have won. Delicious joy as we took the lead, and as we tore the 'stronger' side apart. Beautiful play from Giannichedda - at his finest - Mihajlovic, Albertini and the others. Fiore not so inspiring in a less central role, but still important. Peruzzi saved us a few times, especially during the nerve-wracking period at the beginning of the second half when Roma looked dangerous.

The good news was that off the pitch, nothing happened. There wasn't even a whiff of violence or danger - it was probably the first derby we've been to where the police had nothing to do, and there was no tear gas in evidence. But then again, the atmosphere was painfully low-key. No choreography, no banners, not many fireworks. The Roma fans spent the game unfurling RIP messages but there was none of the normal insult-trading. The stadium wasn't sold out, for once, and the six o'clock start meant that some fans arrived besuited, fresh from the office (with their flagpole over the shoulder, naturally), and others couldn't attend. It was odd to see a derby begin in the sunlight. And odd to see a troupe of medieval flag-throwers parade around the running track before the game.

I suppose it is very disappointing that we didn't win. But it's always a relief not to lose. And we can feel proud of our team. And of our manager, who finally lost his cool last night, to the approval of fans, after a season of suspect refereeing. He didn't go as far as Perugia president Gaucci, though, who has threatened to withdraw his team from Serie A in protest at the 'conspiracy' against them.

19th April 2004

Lazio 4 - Ancona 2 - Well, we've seen thirteen goals in two home games, which is good going. Yesterday was shameful though, and if the team play like that at the derby on Wednesday... Our best goal-scorer is a midfielder (future captain Fiore), and it takes the defence to step in to bail out our floundering forwards. Inzaghi was worse than a waste of space yesterday, and had the crowd howling with frustration (when he doesn't play everyone loves him, but when he does...). He insisted on taking a penalty (which Albertini was supposed to take) and wasted it.Again and again he sent the ball harmlessly into the arms of Ancona's goalie. All of our forwards have wasted so many chances this season. It's true we've had goals disallowed and referees against us, but if Lopez, Corradi, Inzaghi et al had scored even a tenth of their easy chances the season would be looking very different.

Yesterday a muted atmosphere turned into a hostile one. Earlier we'd all been talking about the derby (who's going? said the friendly man at the snack bar. We're doing a survey. The answer was, hardly anyone. Fewer than half the season-ticket holders have bought tickets so far.) As the match progressed the wrath grew - and the fear. Losing a derby is bad enough, but if we put on a showing this bad it will be an utter humiliation. Fans began yelling and haranguing the pitch. When Ancona scored their second goal, there was even an ironic round of applause for Lazio's shambling performance. To think that an equaliser against relegated Ancona was enough to make us jump up and down for joy. And the relief when we took the lead! Couto was everyone's hero, as he did his acrobatic celebrations for the second time. The relief was overwhelming as we finished the game with a miraculous victory and those crucial three points, but nothing quite cancels out the bitter taste of seeing the team playing so badly. Inter won, which means we must beat them next week in our quest for Champions League. Fortunately Juventus drew against Parma (a huge cheer greeted the news of their late equaliser). Now we have the tense derby wait - not helped by the knowledge that the stadium may be half-empty - or filled with Roma fans for what should be our home game. For the abandoned game, the stadium was massively blue-and-white, with a superb atmosphere. This time will be something very different. With shoddy ticket arrangements (season ticket holders having to pay again, and not being entitled to their normal seats) and a general negative feeling from fans it won't be much of a party. Many of those who suffered from the tear-gas and violence won't be coming back, or bringing their children. Those on a budget can't afford it. Many have to be at work at 6pm so can't come. Others are disinterested, or manifesting a vague sense of protest. Still, at least it wasn't decided to play the game behind closed doors.

24 March 2004

It's still all anyone's talking about. There's a huge amount of bitterness that the game was abandoned for no valid reason, and that the club and fans must suffer (and will possibly have to endure severe sanctions). Until half-time the match was the calmest derby for years, and inside the stadium behaviour was pretty well exemplary. 'All we're guilty of,' say the Ultras 'is believing a story that wasn't true'. That story, which was poorly-denied, now appears to have been created and spread by Roma fans, maybe in good faith - although some of whom claimed to Totti that they had spoken to the parents of the 'dead child'. If a more convincing public announcement had been made, and if there had been fewer flares thrown onto the pitch (no-one was thoroughly searched on entering the stadium), if the referee and players had been more decisive, the game could have gone ahead as it should have done.

Our visitor from England had to go home disappointed (at least he saw the Cup win). In the Distinti Nord we got badly tear-gassed - the police must have been pumping the stuff right up the steps up the entrance. 'Get on the floor!' parents were instructing their small children, as we all scrambled away over the seats or crouched down with our scarves covering our streaming eyes, choking on the bitter stinging gas. Fortunately our asthmatic young neighbour had stayed at home. It's not the first time we've been inadvertently caught in clouds of tear gas around the stadium, but it was the nearest we've come to having it pumped straight at us, and an extremely unpleasant experience. It takes a couple of days for one's eyes and throat to recover properly - this time a number of fans have been reporting queasy stomachs too.

As I write, the fans are once more asserting on the radio: 'We did nothing, nothing, nothing. All we did was take our banners down in solidarity with the Roma fans. Why should we be penalised? Why should we have a stadium ban?' A minority of fans were certainly doing more than that outside the stadium, but only after the misunderstandings had escalated and the game been abandoned. We had to dodge through tear gas, smoke and fires, to get away from the stadium, past youths with their faces muffled hurling missiles over barriers towards the police, before being charged. However there were very few of these, at our end of the stadium at least, and given that the tensions had been stoked by massive mismanagement by that point, it seems very unfair to make tens of thousands suffer more, or force the club into greater football and financial difficulties.

22 March 2004

See the News page for more on the derby. Aside from the sadness and confusion, we just hope the match is played, and in a safe environment to which fans with tickets will be admitted. That won't help international visitors, though, and it's unlikely that fans with children will return to a derby for a long time.

21 March 2004

No-one seems to know exactly what happened or why: conspiracies against the police by both sets of fans, or simply a catastrophic chain of misunderstandings. Anyway, the derby was abandoned at half-time, fans: men, women and children had tear gas pumped at them by police, the surroundings of the Stadio Olimpico are now burnt out, and we're back at home writing this with our eyes still stinging from the teargas. The story is still unravelling, tomorrow we'll know more but it's doubtful any of the news will be good. For those that are interested, both teams missed some good chances in the forty-five minutes played (Lazio hit the post), with referee Rosetti giving a hilariously pro-Roma performance. We should have had at least one unarguable penalty (for a shocking foul on Liverani), and every other decision went Roma's way too. It remains to be seen what action the Lega will take with regard to the match abandonment. It's a sad day for everyone who attended the game, and a day of shame for Italian football in general.

20 March 2004

Lazio 2 - Juventus 0 - CELEBRATIONS!!!!!!!!!! Wednesday night was a fantastic evening at the Stadio Olimpico. A Cup Final is always a big event and the Coppa Italia is certainly Lazio's only chance of winning anything this year. The stadium is packed, and the game is heralded by a spectacular coreografia. Every single person in the Tribuna Tevere is waving a plastic flag: across the top part of the stand the flags are Lazio colours: dark blue, white, pale blue. Then underneath flags in green, white and red, the Italian flag. And the Curva Sud is a mass of waving sky-blue and white balloons. Beautiful. There are high levels of excitement; even regular match-goers are taking photographs today: of themselves, of their children, of the stands (and at the end of course it's time for still more commemorative photos of a great victory). Even the normally-seated Distinti Nord is mostly on its feet - to the displeasure of some regulars who spend ages shouting at the rows in front of them to sit down.

The first half is frustrating: the team aren't incisive. Liverani has the 'flu and isn't quite at his best. At half-time fans boo referee Collina, then produce their foil-wrapped suppers and munch dispiritedly. Then for the second half the team seem to have fire in their veins. The missed penalty suprises no-one (Inzaghi should have taken it) ... but it's soon obvious that this is a different team to the one we saw earlier. Naturally the stadium goes wild for the first goal. Then follows a period of exciting attacks; we're taking Juventus apart. The excitement is pretty much continuous, every promising pass or shot being greeted with shrieked enthusiasm. A second goal, a sending-off; we finish the game jubilant, the team run under the Curva to throw their shirts to the crowd (a scrap breaks out for Fiore's). More wild acclaim. Photographs taken. Some jeers for the Juventus fans over the far side of the stadium. Scarves out for the celebratory anthem. A few shivers of anticipation for the derby on Sunday (my regular neighbour isn't coming to the game, she 'can't take the stress'). Then it's time to go home. A departing fan casually makes a rude forearm gesture back towards the Juve fans as he turns to head out of the stadium. Across the bridge car horns are blaring and fans ride home on scooters, their flags fluttering behind them. The derby countdown begins...

The view of a visitor from England: "Chuffing brilliant".

15 March 2004

Lazio 2 - Udinese 2 - What's it like to live through a game at the Stadio Olimpico? Yesterday Football in Rome kept a match diary to share the highs and lows on the terraces.

Interestingly, no-one commented on all the scribbling - I suppose, being English, I'm assumed to be eccentric anyway.

14th March 2004, 2.26pm: I arrive in my seat after a quick call at the bar for a mineral water ('Still water, I remember' boasts the barman before I can open my mouth). There were the usual rousing choruses drifting from the stadium as I approached, but the rows of the Distinti Nord are still fairly empty. I put down my Lazio cushion on my regular seat - which, as usual is filthy: what do those disgusting Roma fans do here? is our ritual demand. Udinese are warming up; no sign of Lazio yet. Ads are trumpeting from the big screens above each curva and motorbikes are circling the running track in some kind of promotional demonstration

2.28: Applause and singing as the Lazio players emerge and begin to warm up. Up on the terraces friends and acquaintances are arriving and saluting one another. Down at the front of the Curva Nord, the ultras have an amazingly loud speaker system and are leading the singing. Flags wave cheerfully. The small boy in front of me has brought his little fluffy dog mascot, maybe as a comfort. A few defeats ago he was sobbing uncontrollably.
2.30: Eyes strain as we try to make out which players are warming up. Fans with binoculars help out the rest of us. 'Inzaghi's playing' cries the small boy, and there is a buzz of enthusiasm. The longer he spends on the substitute's bench, the more popular 'Inzaghino' gets. He's running around today with his usual excess of coltish enthusiasm. 'No Giannichedda'. There are wise nods. Mancini needs to rest some of the most important players before the cup final and the derby. And if Giannichedda were to pick up a booking today, he'd miss the derby. With Trefoloni refereeing we can't take any chances.

2.37: Deafening whistles and jeers. 'Who for?' someone asks. Then we realise. Trefoloni and his linesmen are warming up. This is the man who lost us a derby, who cost us crucial points against Chievo last month, who represents all of the unfairness, both real and imagined, Lazio have suffered. I saw a sticker in the Roma colours with 'Trefoloni, number 13' written on it, left stuck to the seating in the Curva Nord. Anyway, the offensive chants reverberate around the stadium as Trefoloni's character is ripped to shreds and his mother's respectability is maligned. Prudently, the officials are warming up as far away from the Curva Nord as possible.

2.50: A flare has been thrown at Trefoloni from the Tribuna Tevere, and it lies burning bright orange on the pitch. That'll be another fine for the club. Eventually a fireman runs onto the pitch with his long 'litter-picker' device and removes it. At this end of the stadium, other fireman are hosing down the running track in readiness for further missiles and fireworks.

2.55: We're nearly all in our seats now. Friends have been greeted, the week's sporting news analysed. The team announcements begin. Udinese's players, apart from the ex-Lazio favourites, are hailed with whistling. 'LAZIO': huge cheers for each player, applause for Mancini. The biggest cheers are for Inzaghi; everyone is pleased to see him in the starting eleven.

2.57: Incomprehensible shouting from the Curva Nord megaphones. The terraces are swathed in a fug of cigarette smoke. The volume of the singing steps up: 'Sosterremo sempre piů i colori biancoblů'.

2.59: This year's official anthem is played over the stadium public address system. The terraces are a sky-blue mass of swirling scarves. There's an art to this wrist-weakening activity. I've not moved fast enough today, both my neighbours are already whirling frantically and there's no airspace left. Being taller than many Italians is a disadvantage here: a neighbour's scarf, whirled at arm's length above their head, manages to thwack the side of my head on every rotation. We all shout along, especially loud at the bellowed assertion: A Roma la Lazio, c'č solo la Lazio' - in Rome there is only Lazio.

3.01: The teams haven't re-emerged yet, so it's time for some anti-Roma chants: everyone who doesn't clap their hands is a Roma fan (not too many here, then). Everyone who doesn't jump up and down is a Roma fan. 'Roma, Roma, vaffanculo!' On the big screens we can see the players in the tunnel.

3.04: They're on the pitch, they've taken off this week's 'good cause' t-shirt. Bad news already: the team's are changing ends, we're not playing in our preferred direction. The players stand embraced in the centre of the pitch and there's a minute's silence (except in Italy it's traditional for the fans to clap). We presume it's to commemorate the victims of this week's terrorist bombing in Madrid.

3.06: Time for another quick anti-Trefoloni chant. Kick-off. A favourite chant: if you jump up and down Lazio will take the lead. It worked a few week's ago. Doesn't seem to be working today...

3.09: It's a scrappy game so far. Pings from the PA; goalflash on the screen. Parma have scored. Bad news. They're our closest rivals for fourth place.

3.11: GOAL!!!!!!!!! Unbelievable! We had just sung: 'let's score a goal' and it happened. An early lead. And by Muzzi too, loved by fans for being a true Lazio fan himself.

3.12: ANOTHER GOAL!!!!!!!! We're ecstatic, falling over ourselves with joy, embracing and laughing. Hard to believe such sudden glory. And both our favourite, sidelined players have scored. The fans are so happy they burst into a celebratory anti-Roma chant.

3.16: The mood's calmed down a little now. The Udinese fans over in the Distinti Ospiti are staunchly displaying a banner urging solidarity between fans. Trefoloni denies Lazio a corner and is on the receiving end of more whistles and insulting songs.

3.17: Castroman scores. He was immensely popular when he played for Lazio, the pet of the team. Now he shows his respect for his old club by refraining from celebrations. The Udinese fans are wild, of course. We all just sit silently, stunned by this sudden stroke of ill fortune. Now we're down to a one-goal lead, and many's the time we've lost that at the last minute.

3.19: The Curva Nord has rallied enough to launch into its current favourite song, which cunningly utilises easy-to-remember lyrics from all the older anthems: 'Forza Lazio alč / avanti lazio / sempre insieme a te ...' An Udinese goal-kick is greeted by the traditional 'Meeeeeeerda! Stronzo stronzo stronzo!'

3.25: Bits of good play are mixed up with mucky scrapping and rugged body-checks. The team aren't trying hard enough. Every so often they're spurred on and we glimpse their class, but all too soon the ball drifts back to the opposition. 'Shoot! Shoot!' the fans are shouting impatiently every time the ball is in a vaguely feasible position.

3.29: 'Who was that to?' scoffs the old man behind me as the ball is lifted aimlessly upfield. Oddo is a particular culprit, his passes rarely reaching any of his teammates.

3.32: Our corner. An incendiary atmosphere. Then disappointment.

3.34: Some good, skilful play gets us excited. Everyone is singing 'Forza Lazio alč' at deafening volume. Oddo sends the ball over the crossbar..

3.35: Brescia have equalised against Parma. Applause. Pipe Man in front of me lights up his filthy-smelling pipe. Unusually he hasn't turned up with the small son who usually sits choking and covering his nose in his dad's cloud of pollution.

3.40: The Curva Nord must be getting bored. They play their chaotic game of 'tutti a sinistra... tutti a destra' in which they all run to their left then their right in their crowded sector. When they're feeling adventurous they try it backwards and forwards as well, scrambling up over the seats behind them and then back down again. Chaotic and undoubtedly flouting health and safety laws..

3.42: We win a free kick in a dangerous position. 'Let Stam shoot', my neighbours are calling. One of the most entertaining things about football fans is the way they actually believe their advice may be heard or even acted on. Even when watching a match on television, they still try it: 'Bring X on!' 'Space over there - pass to Y!'. The opportunity is missed. More anti-Trefoloni chants. It occurs to me that I haven't yet noticed any significant manifestations of anti-Udinese feeling.

3.46: Pipe Man is still blowing noxious fumes in our faces.

3.50: Half time is approaching. Time to hold our scarves aloft for a stirring rendition of the anthem: 'Lazio Grande Lazio'.

3.52: Half time. An opportunity to stand up and stretch the legs. Fans buy icecreams (Pipe Man has stopped smoking and selects a Cornetto, I notice), wave to friends, make mobile phone calls and discuss next week's derby and Coppa Italia games. Those with radios are providing information on other games. Roma are still 0-0 at Reggina, which is of course good news.

4.07: Time to start playing again. There are more anti-Trefoloni songs. A special, huge banner has been unfurled over the Curva Nord for his benefit. It shows a hand holding up a gigantic red card. Much laughter and cheering. Trefoloni isn't looking this way. Still, he hasn't yet booked any of our players - oh, was that a glance? - although our players liable for a suspension have been kept on the bench just in case.

4.12: A clash of heads in Peruzzi's area leaves one player from each team - Favalli and Castroman - horizontal on the turf. With marvellous symmetry they are helped to their feet, rub their heads ruefully, and make their way up the two sides of the pitch until they're allowed back on.

4.15: Everyone swears and curses as Lopez fumbles a pass. He runs hard, but he's having a few difficulties right now. Trefoloni books Mihajlovic, to a deafening response from the stadium.

4.17: Lopez accidentally runs the ball out of play. Patience is running out. 'Bring on Cesar!' fans shout.

4.18: A lovely bit of football: Lopez - Fiore - Lopez ... then Lopez hesitates too long to get in the shot.

4:19: Another Udinese booking. Free kick to Lazio. News of more goals is flashed up on the big screen. Siena 3 - Ancona 2 is the highest scoring match so far. Parma 2 - Brescia 1 - there are groans and boos at this, as well as some shouts of 'come on Brescia!'

4.21: We're attacking constantly now. Singing is constant too, with the loudspeaker of the Curva Nord leading the choruses. Udinese make a substitution, the announcement being capped humorously with a Roman insult by the Lazio fans. They do this at every opposition substitution and laugh at their wit every time.

4.26: A Peruzzi save. The tide has turned again. Singing is now mixed with whistles and complaints. You'd never dream that Lazio are actually winning. I guess we've failed from this position too often.

4.30: Everyone in front and alongside is now smoking and it's hard to see through the choking clouds. Pipe Man lights up again.

4.32: Another chance missed. Imprecations are hurled, arms are waved. The tobacco fumes are overpowering; the tension is inducing chainsmoking. A Lazio substitution: Lopez off, Corradi on. A big cheer.

4.34: Missed chance - corner. Massive vocal support and applause. But again nothing. Mancini is shouting and gesticulating at his players. Castroman goes off to applause from his old fans. Inter and Roma are both still 0-0 in their respective matches (that's something to be pleased about).

4.37: '3-1, why not?' we sing in a surge of optimism. 'Because Oddo's playing' someone mutters behind me, rather unfairly. There's a foul on the edge of the Udinese area, and we're given the free kick. Louder singing. Some of the crowd are on their feet. The shot is saved. The men in front of me kiss each other on the cheek. The one with the small son (and his fluffy dog) is leaving now. Quite a few fans are drifting away; I'm not sure if they're disgusted with Lazio's failure to consolidate their advantage, or just hopeful that the scoreline won't change. Or maybe the lure of the open road is greater than the pull of the football.

4.48: Lazio have a lucky escape. Udinese corner. The standard security announcement for visiting fans is greeted with whistles.. Now a free kick to Udinese, hotly disputed. The fans are on their feet, apoplectic with rage at Trefoloni, shrieking and hurling insults. It's nearly over, though. The stadium begins singing 'Non Mollare Mai' (never give up). A close miss. We're on our feet, singing louder than ever. Another shot on target, saved this time. Fate is against us. Now Udinese are attackign. Peruzzi is out of position. Unbelievably the Udinese player send the ball over the crossbar. We subside with relief. Maybe luck is - just once - on our side. 'How long left?' everyone is asking.

4.54: Mihajlovic has cramp. Udinese certainly have more energy than the Lazio players now. Another close shave. All the action is this end, around Peruzzi's goal, now.

4.56: The inevitable happens. 2-2. People really do snatch off their hats and hurl them groundwards, overcome with emotion. Mihajlovic is prone, despairing, rather how we all feel. Questions are asked: the Udinese free kick should have been re-taken. Lazio are fighting back. At least, some of our players are. Where are our strikers? The ball just cruised in front of the Udinese goal, and there was no-one there to tap it in. The final whistle. Rage and disillusion for Lazio fans. Trefoloni will need police protection to get away from Rome; the fans are still shrieking their outrage. We sit, glumly, for several minutes, before trekking out of the stadium, past the drifts of old newspapers.

1 March 2004

Lazio 0 - Milan 1 - Frustration at the stadium last night as goalmouth chances brought us to our feet again and again. It was incredible that at least once the ball didn't find its way into the net. By the second half, disbelief was fading as it became obvious that luck was against us - and we know that feeling well. By the time Milan scored it was barely a surprise; just another kick in the teeth from whoever decides such things. The disappointment at defeat, however, was moderated by the knowledge that our loss had helped keep Milan ahead of Roma at the top of the table. And Roma's victory for once suited us, since they beat our fourth-place rivals Parma.

It was a strange build-up to the match - as fans around the world will have seen on their tv screens, we were 'boycotting' the stands for the first five minutes, before scrambling out into the stadium. However, we didn't have much choice in the matter. Usually it's just the Curva that take part; but this time they had set up picket lines and blocked the entrances so we all joined in, like it or not. While most of the fans agree with the principle of the the demonstration - drawing attention to excessive penalisation of Lazio from bad refereeing - a lot of the fans in our sector would rather have taken their seats as normal. There were a few arguments and plenty of grumbles, as we all waited, crushed, on the steps, to enter the terraces (some of us were there an hour and a half ...). Still, after the tension 'what's happening? have they started? imagine if we score now!' - ironic to think that fans in the UK and elsewhere were watching the game while we were in the stadium and couldn't - it was a good feeling as we flooded out to our seats, yelling and singing.

Banner of the day, in the Distinti Nord: 'Man is descended from Gattuso'.

15 February 2004

Lazio 3 - Empoli 0 - More scenes of glee at the stadium yesterday as yet another victory unfolded before us. Stankovic's departure seems to have been a catalyst for team bonding; with Fiore in his favourite central position, play is much fluider, while the levels of trust and confidence seem to have soared. The team are playing so well together that our goals are being scored by defenders - in this attacking formation all the players are contributing and celebrating together. Terrace rejoicing is proving wonderfully cathartic after recent months of frustration. People are even whispering about the possibility of winning the derby (while glancing around to check that la sfortuna - bad luck - isn't overhearing). It's a great feeling to travel home across Rome with Lazio hat and scarf proudly in full view. Rome, incidentally, is full of fans sporting a different jersey this weekend: England rugby followers good-spiritedly crowding the centre. If only football could be that peaceable and cheerful. I suppose it just matters too much ...

12 February 2004

Lazio 4 - Milan 0 - Yesterday was one of the most fantastic evenings Lazio have lived in years. We may have had an advantage from the first leg, but Milan are a strong side and we all knew that qualification was far from certain. The stadium was nearly full, and in good voice, with anthems bellowed out from an hour prior to kick off. The atmosphere was great, but as the goals came in it got better still. The second goal saw disbelieving joy, tears, embraces, faces raised to thank heaven. And just as good as the goals going in was the sight of our ragazzi playing such scintillating football. Excellent passes into the area, spot-on and lethal strikes ... 'Three-nil, why not?' sang the crowd, and the team obliged in the best way possible. Liverani and Fiore both showed themselves to be the geniuses previously glimpsed, Albertini was perfect against his former club, everyone gave their best. More delirium, 'Four-nil, why not?'. Fiore - goal - and then total, unbridled, manic joy. We were playing with them, it seemed redundant to bother with any anti-Milan chants (so the Curva began the anti-Roma ones instead). When Milan managed to get the ball and string a few passes together, each pass was greeted with an ironic cheer from the entire Stadio Olimpico. The players saluted the stadium , lifting their arms in an invitation for more applause, and the stadium responded with cheers that must have echoed around Rome. Three nights ago it was impossible to sleep as Roma fans hooted their car horns to celebrate their thrashing of Juve. Last night was our turn. Packed trams trundled back in to town broadcasting joyful choruses of Lazio songs, horns blared, and even today the Lazio radio shows are re-playing the goals mingled with anthems and inciting more celebrations. And in a month we'll be playing in the Coppa Italia final. Photo special.

14 January 2004

Lazio 2 - Parma 0 - Not the Italian Cup, but, with reference to certain ongoing fraud investigations, the Cayman Cup, according to a big Curva Nord banner. As usual for midweek matches, the stadium was nearly empty - the 6pm start and last Sunday's performance being two of the factors to deter fans today. Thanks to more bargain ticket prices we sat in the centre of the Tribuna Tevere for an excellent view of an improved Lazio. The Tribuna was something of a Fabio Liverani fan club, ringing with cries of 'Grande Fabio', and oodles of applause. It's great to see him so popular and so on-form, after his difficult start at the club. In contrast, the once-popular Stankovic is still public enemy number one, despite his goal today. It looks as though he may be staying though, so he'll have a chance to regain the fans' affection. The sad news this week is that Sergio Conceicao is leaving. According to an interview he gave on the radio today, he was fed up with getting so few chances to play. The club have released him from his contract, and in return he is renouncing his earnings for this season. In a fan-pleasing interlude that Stankovic could learn from, Conceicao thanked the fans, the club and the Curva: Lazio is the only Italian club he's felt this attached to, he loves Lazio, the Curva Nord has always been wonderful and will always be in his heart, he will still be spending time in Rome as he has a house here and feels at home, thanks again to the fans, and 'forza Lazio' as always. What a hero.

11 January 2004

Lazio 0 - Brescia 1 - With a light heart we returned to Rome and basked in the warm sunshine on the terraces as the teams warmed up. How lovely to be back! How happy to be reunited on the terraces, an afternoon of good football and comfortable superiority ahead.

But then the game started. First news from the other stadiums came through: Milan were losing, Roma were winning. That was bad enough. Then Brescia took the lead and all that sunshine began seeming a mockery. Apart from a brief flurry in front of Brescia's goal just before the half-time whistle, the team were dismal. Roberto Baggio was far and away the most popular player on the pitch, meriting a round of applause each time he stepped up for a corner or touched the ball (well, almost). When the fans got bored of abusing Stankovic, they began entertaining themselves by singing hymns to all their departed heroes: Gazza, Veron, Simeone, Signori, Di Canio. (Incidentally, there seem to be very few past idols who haven't subsequently fallen foul of the emotional Curva. Even the likes of Nesta and Nedved have been whistled on recent returns). As the sun sank slowly behind the Curva Ovest, shadows advanced up over the terraces, marked by a slow tidal wave of people pulling on their gigantic coats. It was a gloomy atmosphere, enlivened only by angry characters haranguing the distant players, or by wags attempting to count Lazio passes (rarely more than three in a row). As the game ended we were back to the bad old days: booing fans, deserted terraces with small valedictory fires burning.

22 December 2003

Lazio 2 - Inter 1 - This is always a great fixture (Inter haven't won it for about seven years) with a bizarre atmosphere, given the friendly relationship between the two sets of fans. The game started with the Curva Nord empty and the Inter fans on a sympathetic cheering-boycott; in protest at the judicial system's treatment of fans. The five-minute 'strike' wasn't directed (as in the past) at the club or players, but there were nevertheless faint reminders of the dark days two seasons ago. Stankovic and Mancini have both been reported this week as saying they'd rather be at Inter - whether or not their words were misquoted/misconstrued, they didn't go down too well with the fans. Lazio fans are a sentimental lot; if a player declares love for the shirt and works obviously hard on the pitch, they'll love him (Inzaghi and Oddo have both waxed lyrical about their emotional attachment to Lazio in past weeks). But Stankovic's to-ing and fro-ing about his contract, his errors on pitch, and now this (probably misinterpreted) interview meant that the once-loved player was whistled by many fans for much of the game - despite his contribution to the first goal. In another reminder of days gone by, yesterday marked the return of former manager Zaccheroni to the Stadio Olimpico - and the return of the anti-Zac songs that were so popular back then.

There was little truly inspired play last night (wet conditions) but how heartening to see the team react and fight back from being a goal down. Nerves were high all the way through; Sereni was having another shaky game after several solid performances, and there were groans from the stands every time the ball approached his area. Almeyda's sending-off incident was outrageous - entertaining and shocking, it did us a big favour although provoking mixed feelings for many fans who remember him fondly. At the final whistle, though, we didn't care how we'd got there; we'd held on and won another important victory. The only gloomy notes are the continued finance/takeover problems, and the fact that our success gives a boost to Roma who are now clear at the top (although just 8 points ahead of us). 'Happy Christmas' everyone wished each other after the final choruses at the end of the game. 'See you next year'. Then we all headed off into the rain.

17 December 2003

It's freezing here in Rome; there was a distinct air of martyrdom as we turned into human icicles in the Stadio Olimpico this afternoon. Thanks to the bargain tickets, we enjoyed an unusually good view of the game from the near-empty Tribuna Tevere; it was so quiet that while the team were warming up, fans nearby could call out to the players by name and receive a wave in response.

There were scatterings of fans around the stadium, but even the Curva Nord was less than half-full - slightly surprising to realise how many of the Curva regulars must have proper jobs to go to on a weekday afternoon. Apart from admiring the game from our new, close-up viewpoint, there was no excitement to report. Liverani's goal was lovely ... so was the moment when we left the stadium and a fan with a radio reported 'Palermo goal!' - sadly the Sicilians weren't able to beat Roma, however.

Real tragedy today for Reggina, we just saw part of their match on tv, and are sparing several thoughts for them tonight. At home to Inter in their Coppa Italia second leg, Reggina were winning 1-0 (having lost the first leg 2-1). Hence, thanks to their away goal, they were set to cause an upset and knock Inter out. Down to ten men for more than half the match, they put on an excellent showing and the home fans were all set to celebrate. Then, three minutes into stoppage time Inter's Cruz tried a shot from some distance. It hit the woodwork, rebounded with force, hit the hapless Reggina goalie's head and ricocheted into the net. 1-1 and Inter go through to the quarter finals. The goalie was bent double over the advertising hoardings, near to tears. That's football for you.

7 December 2003

During the Serie A highlights on Italian tv tonight, the entire commentary was dedicated to talk about a possible Juventus 'crisis'. Although they showed the goals a couple of times, no description of the game was given, nor were Lazio even mentioned. This illustrates one of the reasons why Juve are hated so much by all non-fans.

More electricity and delirium at the Stadio Olimpico last night. Special chants were reserved for the much-hated Juventus fans ('Siete tutti Calabrese' - you're all Calabrians - being one of them), who responded by hurling seats and flares into the Lazio crowd.

Spirits were fairly high despite the Siena defeat and more club financial problems, as the fans returned to doing what they do best: supporting the team (and showing off). The coreografia before the game was impressive, a giant banner unfurled amidst thousands of shiny pale blue metallic papers. The team played unbelievably well in the first half; it was hard to believe that this was the same team who performed so miserably in Siena last week (we thought of travelling to the match; thank God we didn't). The second goal was greeted with disbelieving delirium and wild scenes in the stands (I was squashed by embracing fans falling on top of me). We don't often enjoy the sensations of a two-goal lead. The second half was racked with anxiety about the injured players and the fact we'd used up all our substitutions. Giannichedda (what a hero) returned to the pitch despite being barely able to hobble. The nervous man in our row, radio glued to his ear, reported about the seriousness of Lopez's injury. Then, as the happy ending approached, he updated us: 'Twenty seconds...' The stadium held its breath. 'Five seconds..' And then the joy. Scarves aloft, most Lazio fans remained in the stadium to sing a heartfelt anthem. A beautiful evening.

26 November 2003

How frustrating it was, seeing chances missed. The ball hit the crossbar, the post, the goalie - it went everywhere but into the goal. Besiktas rivalled Perugia for timewasting, and the referee's frequent reprimands were too mild to help. We could still qualify for the next round of the Champions League, but it won't be easy.

There were too many empty spaces at the Stadio Olimpico tonight (a wet weekday evening), but the fans that were there made up for the gaps by their enthusiasm. Special abuse was reserved for Cosmi and for a tv presenter who called us fans 'animals', but on the whole the fans concentrated on getting behind the team. Our high number of misses in front of goal would shake anyone's faith, but the foundations stood firm. At least we still have a little hope for qualification.

24 November 2003

Fantastic scenes yesterday: deplorable (obviously) but also wickedly exciting. Ref Bolognino made laughable decisions against Lazio during the first three-quarters of the game (which didn't stop Perugia accusing him of being in a plot against them), but at the end finally luck came out on our side. The stadium exploded with scenes of unbelievable, frantic joy as Corradi gave us the lead. After Perugia's diving and timewasting tactics - which infuriated the crowd quite as much as our players - it seemed justice that we should beat them. The game over-ran massively, and some of the images were unforgettable as well as incredible - Mancini heroically hauling his players away from the fray; Inzaghi dragging an injured Perugia player off the pitch; cards brandished to the entire squads; Cosmi's 'Forza Roma' (caught by the tv cameras). Ugly but exciting scenes, although there was more tension and shouting than actual violence. And finally we got the victory we needed. For the third goal Corradi played with the ball, passing unneccessarily to Inzaghi - who repaid him with a perfect shot. Corradi lifted Inzaghi in celebration by the corner flag, Inzaghi crowned the moment by waving the flag in the air. The crowd were ecstatic.

5th November 2003

Last night was almost as terrible as the derby we don't talk about. There's not a lot to be said about that kind of humiliation (except: maybe we shouldn't give football that kind of power). Mancini has slipped a little on his pedestal. He nobly took the blame upon himself after the game; certainly his decision to leave Giannichedda on the bench left many of us frustrated. Despite provocation from the impatient fans, Stankovic played his best game in some time, and Fiore too was on excellent form and worked hard. But our weaknesses in goal (the idea of the derby without Peruzzi is nightmarish) and in front of goal were all too obvious. Questions should certainly be asked about UEFA's choice of Russian officials for a match involving a Russian-owned club, but Lazio's own lack of funds must take some of the blame. We just don't have players of the quality of our exes. 'Come back to us' I heard a fan pray as Veron was rapturously acclaimed by the Curva Nord, before and after the match (unlike poor Crespo who was booed). With Stam and Peruzzi on the sicklist we just don't have adequate replacements for games at this level.

Now all we can do is sit and sweat until Sunday night.

26th October 2003

Clocks changed, the floodlights came on at half time. Times didn't seem to have changed for Lazio though, who spent most of today's match bombarding the beleaguered Bologna defence to no avail. Although the team were playing well - Liverani was particularly classy - our strikers' repeated failure to finish was getting frustrating. The Curva entertained themselves by singing in praise of Lazio legend Beppe Signori (who spent the match on the Bologna bench) ... followed by a hasty anti-Bologna chant in case there was any confusion. There were also many demonstrations of loyalty towards Luca Baraldi, one of the architects of Lazio's financial survival - 'Stay with us' sang the entire stadium.

The real emotional ordeal began with the Corradi penalty incident - where the striker was wrongly booked for diving. Totaly wild joy broke out when saviour substitute Inzaghi scored (having previously provoked despairing laughs with a typical goalmouth fumble). The player raced straight to the Curva to celebrate with fans. It was nearly the end of the game; we felt safe in victory ... then came another manifestation of Lazio's typical inability to hold onto a lead. Poor Dabo's 'world crumbled around him', he said later, when he scored a rather fine own goal, and the stadium was shell-shocked. Everyone seemed to have aged 10 years. But then, unbelievably, all that attacking paid off. Corradi scored and the crowd went wild with mad rejoicing. Corradi followed Inzaghi's example in ripping off his shirt and heading for the fans. There was absolute bliss (mingled with considerable relief) on the terraces and pitch when the final whistle blew. The players hugged each other, with special supportive embraces for a relieved Dabo, then ran over to celebrate with their ecstatic fans. Next home game is Lazio - Chelsea.

5th October 2003

Today was Maglia Day, when every fan was asked to wear their Lazio shirt to the stadium. Sadly it was also a cool day and some of those shirts vanished under jumpers by half time. The Stadio Olimpico looked beautiful at kick-off, all sky-blue shirts, and waving flags. Today's uniform gave a real sense of unity and pride, and drew attention to just how many of us head to the stadium this season. And how many season ticket holders (marked out by our free 'Dedicata a te' shirts - see below) there are this year. As usual there was good support for the team, although the playing isn't up to last year's standard, and a certain amount of frustration is setting in. Marchegiani got a good welcome back from the Lazio fans, with huge applause from the Curva Nord (it would have been nice if he'd not had quite such a good game, though). Incidentally, Mancini was as dapper as ever in his suit, and did not participate personally in Maglia Day.

2nd October 2003

Much of last night's match was an extremely painful experience of the cover-the-eyes-with-horror variety. Lazio played unbelievably badly during the first half and at 2-0 it only looked as though things were going to get worse. Most fans responded well, singing and waving the plastic blue and white flags distributed for the optimistic pre-match displays. But one or two gave up and went home, and we could understand how they felt.

'Hopefully Mancini will have kicked them up the backside at half time' said a friend. And so it seemed. Inzaghi's goal at the beginning of the second half was greeted by the deafening roar of reawakened hope and pride. The draw wasn't as good as a victory but it was enough to put us in top place of Group G. Lazio fans generally seem fond of Chelsea, but their defeat last night did us a favour.

23rd September 2003

Well, Football in Rome's return to the joys of live football was marked most inauspiciously, with the concession of a goal after a mere 26 seconds. The game saw extremes of good and bad playing, matched by the highs and lows on the terraces. The likes of Stam did their best but Parma were allowed just too much possession of the ball. A dark cloud appeared in the sky with Sereni's indecision between the goalposts. Peruzzi, even without injury, isn't as young as he was (despite some fantastic saves so far this season) and Lazio badly need a strong figure in goal. Fingers crossed for a return of confidence.

16th September 2003

Well, here we are, back again after another long hot summer. It's been a long wait for football action where Football in Rome is concerned - stuck away from satellite tv or in the wrong country, we've missed the matches up to now. So counting down to Sunday's home game against Parma.

Today we are pleased and proud to announce we have been to pick up our 'Maglia Unica' and our Champion's League mini-season ticket (30 euros; eat your hearts out Premiership fans). The maglia is a free shirt given to all this year's season-ticket holders by the lovely club management. Not content with offering us bargain season tickets (€90!!!) they have also given us all a nice Puma shirt with the signature of all the players adhering to the club's financial survival plans. 'Dedicated to you' it says. We look forward to wearing them to the stadium on 'Maglia Day' to turn the stadium sky blue. Photos below (as you can guess, we now have a digital camera so expect same-day photos of the stadium during this season).