Last Friday, Rome would have been the centre of Europe. In the Stadio Olimpico the 16th European Football Championship would have been kicked off. Millions would have watched impatiently how 22 men, one visibly nervous, the other with an almost surreal calmness over him, had walked towards the centre spot, Italian children walking besides them, while the music in the stadium had stirred up the crowds, the tension felt in living rooms throughout the whole of Europe. That brief moment right before the starting signal in which it is dead quiet because people collectively hold their breath. Hopeful. Expectant. And then the deafening sound of loud cheering as the ball travels its first meters over the bright green grass. An opera d’arte, a piece of art, of 90 minutes. Oh, how beautiful it could have been.
Johan Cruijff once phrased it like no one else could: “Italians can’t win from you but you can lose from them”
Italy and the Netherlands are quite different, but perhaps the major similarity is that they are both real football countries. The love for the ball game is deeply rooted and both countries have a reputation when it comes to football. They are evenly matched. Johan Cruijff once phrased it like no one else could: “Italians can’t win from you but you can lose from them”. At the same time, the Italians are in awe of Dutch players, although they will never let an opportunity go by to teasingly ask you how many times the Netherlands has won the world cup while casually waving four fingers in front of you, unable to hide their pride. With its four world titles, Italy is one of the most successful countries in football history ever. Every Dutch person who has been to Italy will remember the enthusiastic responses of locals when you say you’re from “Olanda”: Ah, Marco van Basten! Ruud Gullit! Frank Rijkaard! Johan Cruijff! The first three have made themselves immortal as the golden trio at AC Milan and the fame of Johan Cruijff needs no further explanation whatsoever.
It’s the ultimate proof that a usually so efficient country can get deeply caught up with something as ‘trivial as a game’, and that there’s boiling blood running through the nation’s veins
I just love it so much. A big championship that overloads entire nations for a full month in summer with feelings of collective joy, togetherness, hope and sometimes frustration too. I think football is a wonderful sport, but perhaps the real reason I like it so much is that it is almost the only opportunity that the otherwise extremely down-to-earth Dutch people let go. That they become extremely and visibly happy, living up to the image of the graceful but explosive lions whom we are all too happy to identify ourselves with. It’s the ultimate proof that a usually so efficient country can get deeply caught up with something as ‘trivial as a game’, and that there’s boiling blood running through the nation’s veins. When it’s only January and I realise we’re in a ‘football year’, I get excited straight away and throughout the tournament I enjoy the fact that there are football matches on TV every single day.
As a loyal supporter of the Dutch national team I was surprised that I could feel that same passion for another country too. But I did, and in my most beautiful blue outfit – blue really works better on me than orange – and with the Italian tricolore painted on my nails, I could hardly handle my nerves when watching the penalty series against the German national team in a bar in the centre of Rome
No other nation than the Netherlands has played a World Cup final so often without ever winning it. However, things completely took a wrong turn the last two tournaments as we didn’t even qualify. Yet, the fact that the Netherlands was absent in the European Championships in 2016 was something I could bear, even though it was such a strange feeling. For the first time in my life, the team playing in bright orange wasn’t there. But I was living in Italy at the time and the azzurri, the Italian national team, seemed to be in top condition giving me a wonderful team to cheer for. As a loyal supporter of the Dutch national team (during the world cup final in 2010 together with 180 thousand others at a packed square in Amsterdam I watched with horror how Iniesta made the Dutch dream vanish with one single goal) I was surprised that I could feel that same passion for another country too. But I did, and in my most beautiful blue outfit – blue really works better on me than orange – and with the Italian tricolore painted on my nails, I could hardly handle my nerves when watching the penalty series against the German national team in a bar in the centre of Rome. However, after this tournament also the azzurri experienced bad times and I was absolutely shocked when it became official that both the Netherlands and Italy had failed to qualify for the World Cup in 2018. That summer, I watched all the games but the real excitement had long disappeared.
With two teams to support, I was looking forward to it very much. Until suddenly, a slightly unpleasant feeling got over me
How different would 2020 be. With the Netherlands and Italy both back in good shape, it was inevitable that we would get to see the satisfying result at the first European tournament that would have been hosted not just by one, but by twelve countries. My new Italian hometown would be the setting for the opening match and the Dutch DJ Martin Garrix would produce the official Euro2020 song. With two teams to support, I was looking forward to it very much. Until suddenly, a slightly unpleasant feeling got over me. Could it be that the Netherlands and Italy would play against each other? Quickly I googled the preliminary game schedule. Oh, God. If Italy would become the winner of the group, and the Netherlands second, they would already play against each other in the eighth final. A so-called knockout match. Then the question really was, who would kick out who?
Still, I have to admit that it would probably be an absolutely sensational match. Twenty-two football players that seem to dance with a ball in the contemporary version of a blue and orange gladiator fight
Despite the fact that I would have absolutely loved it for us to be collectively immersed in football atmospheres these days, low-key I am a little relieved. The possible nightmare in which the Netherlands would eliminate the Italians or the other way around will be postponed for another year. Still, I have to admit that it would probably be an absolutely sensational match. Twenty-two football players that seem to dance with a ball in the contemporary version of a blue and orange gladiator fight. What if I would just support both teams and dress up in both orange ànd blue? From my very first art class in high school I remember that they are complementary colours. In other words: there is no colour that contrasts more with orange than blue. The symbolism of two countries that are so different in terms of culture is striking. Still, I can remember the teacher saying that complementary colours go together very well, a phenomenon which is called colour blocking in the fashion world. I feel slightly relieved, as I would still be able to make a good appearance in fashionably aware Italy. Subtle shades of cobalt blue finished off with orange details. An opera d’arte on my body. Because hey, in the end I’m still a girl watching football.
