tight jeans - july 13, 2021
Hola, hola, hola.
Well, we had a final. What did you think? I’m still struggling to make sense of things, but at least it’s over.
I didn't want it to end.
We all like a big story for a big game, and the setup for the Euro 2020 final followed the script nicely. England vs. Italy at Wembley. The classic teams, a classic venue, and Reebok Classics on the feet of drunken, ticketless supporters in search of free seats.
England and Italy were said to be Euro 2020’s two best sides. ‘Best’ is a tricky thing to land on when you’re dealing with teams and players of this calibre. You can frame the debate in countless ways, but the tournament's semi final matches did a good job of this, throwing the virtues of determination (Italy) and luck (England) into sharp relief.
It's not important whether England and Italy were the two best teams. What mattered was having the heavies in the building.
Gianluigi Donnarumma is only 22 and has already played 4,000 times for Italy.
What a strange game it was: dramatic, and oddly joyless. English fans, in their pre and post-match behaviour made sure of the latter with their selfish, threatening rendition of the tiresome 'Brits abroad' routine transposed onto home soil.
The entr'acte to this inexcusable bullshit gave us Luke Shaw’s controlled early finish, an assortment of tired players, reluctant coaches, and horse-collar tackles, and Gianluigi Donnarumma Bond-villaining England’s penalty takers.
I watched the game on my back porch with a friend- an Englishman indifferent to the prospect of English glory. This felt strange. I’d hoped for someone alongside whom I could throw myself into the thrill of this final. But his perspective echoed that of the England fans I connected with during the tournament: modestly and cynically hopeful.
Italy at the very end: looks like it’s probably a decent feeling.
And so to Italy the spoils, which in the end they deserve, even as it was sweet watching a Jorginho penalty saved by Jordan Pickford.
And to you a goodnight, good morning and good day. I’ve watched enough fucking football for a while, and want to go take some pictures and record some music and then come back to this in a few weeks when there’s something new (relatively speaking) to talk about. Consider this the Jeaner’s summer hiatus. See you again in August, but not before one final, half-baked bookend.
Those of you familiar with the Eurovision Song Contest know that Italy won the competition’s 2021 edition with a rock number (of all things) that earned a total of 524 points from the jury and general public. England’s entry, an okay song on balance, scored exactly 0 points, leaving it to plumb the depths of this treacle-filled pop abyss.
Are the results of Euro 2020 and Eurovision 2021 appropriate analogs? No, but you’re not here for the precision, as best I understand.
Love you.