Derby della Capitale #2
Derby della Capitale.
Known as the capital derby, the match ranked among the most hostile rivalries not only in Italy, but anywhere in the world.
Psychological warfare flared up at every opportunity, and dangerous fouls came with alarming frequency. Stretch the truth only a little and you had players flying one way, then the other.
Which was why, whenever this derby was played, the referees stayed on a knife-edge of alertness. Police were naturally deployed as well. Look away for even a second, and violent clashes between the ultras were all but guaranteed.
"Whoa… the vibe on this poster is insane."
Lorenzo and Lazio's captain glared at each other from the poster as if they meant to kill. Haley's cousin nodded with open satisfaction at the sight.
The Derby della Capitale was a special day for Roma and Lazio alike. The long-standing rivalry between two clubs that shared the same stadium meant even the promotional posters were built to be extraordinary.
Beyond the photo Haley's cousin had just been studying, the classic piece of Derby della Capitale marketing was an illustration of a wolf — Roma's symbol — and an eagle — Lazio's — tearing into each other with blood streaming from their wounds.
Fans already said that a few years from now, the faces on those posters would belong to Yohan and Vitali, the two players being called the future of their respective clubs. Of course that was still a long way off, and no one could say how their growth would unfold — but looking at their talent, people were certain both would become pillars of their sides.
"The regular stands look pretty rough, but this is nice."
The Newman family was currently seated in places provided by Roma as invited guests. Jamie, who ran a massive corporation in the United States; Olivia's younger sister and second daughter, both famous former models; and Caroline, a fashion designer the industry held in high regard… Beyond that, the family's elders held key positions across any number of fields, and having such a well-known American family attend a match brought all sorts of advantages.
Roma had already figured out during a field visit the previous season that Caroline was close to Yohan, so they jumped at the chance and treated the whole party with the utmost hospitality.
Originally they were supposed to watch from a suite overlooking the entire stadium, complete with a giant screen — but Jamie had wanted to feel the heat of the crowd, so they were watching from outside.
Because the derby itself was so famous, Italian celebrities who supported either Roma or Lazio were nearby as well. The Newman elders exchanged brief greetings with them while waiting for kickoff, and—
"Ugh, would you stop sitting with your legs spread like that…!"
"Oh, give it a rest."
—the younger ones spent the time bickering as usual.
And Haley… was entertaining a rather strange fantasy.
Hmm…
If she sweet-talked her ridiculously wealthy grandfather into buying this club, then sold Yohan off to an American side, wouldn't she get to stay with him? He had seemed genuinely sad about her leaving — it felt like a solid plan.
She was seriously turning the idea over when the home Roma fans' anthem rose from the stands and pulled her out of the reverie.
"Why is this chant so good? Do you know what it means?"
"How would I know? I don't even speak Italian."
"Oh… Gio's on the screen."
"He looks nervous?"
Chloe and her sibling sounded a little wound up. Haley, who had watched Yohan play a few times, slid into the conversation with the air of someone who knew better.
"He's always like that before kickoff."
"Really?"
"Yeah. He looks like he can't play, but once it starts, he's good."
"You've watched him a lot, huh?"
"I was bored."
"Just bored? No other reason?"
"What are you talking about. Shut up."
"Crazy bitch."
While Haley and Chloe snarled at each other, Yohan — facing his first derby with the First Team — was recalling the speech Lorenzo had given in the locker room.
Those bastards never stood a chance against us. We'll thrash them today, and we'll thrash them again in the last match of the second half. Win no matter what and start the new year feeling good.
Lorenzo had mixed in every curse imaginable during the team talk, and today's Lorenzo was a touch more aggressive than usual. That was Lorenzo for you — the moment he faced Lazio, something in him snapped.
Either way, there was no option today except winning. Lorenzo was playing in place of Guidotti, and Yohan wanted to celebrate a derby victory alongside him.
Steeling that resolve, Yohan lined up with his teammates on the pitch.
Just as the media and the fans had predicted, the derby erupted into fierce contests from the opening whistle.
Not only legitimate challenges — petty fouls flew constantly, trash talk thrived wherever the referee wasn't looking, and the moment anyone got fouled, the hot-tempered players from both sides charged in first, raising their voices.
"You fucking pieces of shit… you get your asses handed to you and start throwing dirty tackles? You fucking insects?"
"Dirty tackles? That's what you lot do to us, you idiot."
"Looking to die, are you?"
"What a load of horseshit."
"Fine — you've been singing for it. I'll grant your wish."
"I'll wreck you first. Look forward to it."
The quality of both squads meant plenty of beautiful play still emerged, but the psychological warfare ran just as hot. Of course they were footballers, not fighters, so they fundamentally stuck to their own game. But when things went sideways, their eyes would roll back and they would clash head-to-head, scrapping it out.
Especially today — even accounting for it being a derby — the collisions were frequent and severe. It was the last match of the first half of the season before the new year, and everyone was burning with competitive fire.
Thud—!
"Guh!"
In the twenty-fifth minute of the first half, Yohan took a massive impact from the side and went down, rolling across the pitch.
Tweet—!
It wasn't a challenge for the ball — just raw physical force meant to shove the opponent, or to put fear into him. A tough, physical scrap. Yohan took it in stride. At least it wasn't a dirty tackle, he tried to tell himself. There was also the matter of not wanting to look cowed against Lazio.
But then—
Tap.
"Quit stalling and get up, you little shit."
The player who'd committed the foul lightly smacked the back of Yohan's head — made to look, to anyone watching, like affectionate encouragement — and delivered a quiet provocation. Yohan couldn't help but flare up.
"You son of a—"
Yohan shot to his feet, closed on the player who'd hit him, and slammed his forehead against the other man's.
Thud—!
Then he raised his voice.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
At the same time, the Lazio player toppled straight backward. It was a dive to draw a card. Yohan stood there briefly stunned—
"Get up. Stop pulling that shit against a kid, you bastard."
—as Richie approached, grabbed the Lazio player's collar, and hauled him up hard. Yohan tried to stop him. But the Lazio player, already gone, and his teammates came charging in at once, and another brawl erupted that swept Yohan into it.
Tweet! Tweet! Tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet!
Between the players trying to fight and the ones trying to break it up, the referee forced his way through, blowing his whistle nonstop. Exhaustion was already plain on his face. He looked ready to go home, down a cold beer, and pass out on the spot.
Having barely calmed the overheated squads, the referee issued a yellow card each to the fouling player and to Yohan.
It was the first card of Yohan's career.
"Why am I getting one?"
"Violent conduct."
"He hit me in the head! If I'm getting a yellow, he should get a red!"
Yohan protested with full Italian gesturing, looking thoroughly wronged, while Nathan pulled the overexcited kid away from the referee. When the two of them appeared on the big screen, Haley exploded at the official.
"Is that bald bastard completely insane? Did he take a bribe?"
"Calm down."
"Do I look like I can calm down right now?! Did you not see him hit his head? What about that video whatever?"
"How are we supposed to answer that when we don't even know soccer?"
"I wasn't asking, okay? I was just pissed."
"Whatever."
"Don't piss me off and just watch?"
"Don't piss me— hyaah…! This is completely— wait, okay…! I'm sorry…! I'm really sorry…!!"
Chloe, who'd been needling Haley, let out a scream. Haley's hand had clamped down hard on her thigh. Feeling the soft flesh stretch under the crushing grip, Chloe hurriedly apologized and tried to soothe her.
While she was at it, Yohan let out an irritated sigh and took his position for the free kick.
Hah… damn… this is driving me crazy.
He was furious beyond measure, but he couldn't exactly curse the referee out… Yohan resolved to soothe the boiling rage in his gut with a goal, and focused on the resumed match.
Around the fortieth minute of the first half, the chance came.
Boom—!
On a Roma counterattack, McKenzie surged down the right flank from midfield like a tank and whipped in an early cross. Roma had Novak and Yohan making the deepest runs; Lorenzo, slowed by age, was covering behind the two of them.
Got… it…!
Yohan touched the perfectly placed cross with the tip of his foot, then used his signature trapping — just like Lorenzo — to shake off the Lazio defender who'd closed in tight. Then he unleashed the shot—
BOOM—!
The ball rattled the upper center of the net.
Thwack—!
A cannonball of a strike the keeper never had a chance to react to.
—YEEEEAAAAAAHHHH!!!!
The Roma crowd roared so loud it made ears ring. Having scored the opener, Yohan sprinted along the edge of the pitch and pounded his left chest hard — the same celebration he'd done on his debut — for the ecstatic fans.
Surrounded by teammates and showered with affection, Yohan took another foul from a Lazio player just before halftime, but this time he just laughed it off. Knowing it was nothing more than inferiority complex after he'd scored made him feel good.