The privilege of being Romanisti
Our ability to enjoy this feeling is our way of living out our privilege. We are fans of Roma. The others don't, and they will never be able to, understand it
A privilege. This is how I have always felt being a Romanista in my heart, in my head, in my soul and on my skin. It's a privilege that has accompanied me since I can remember with sixty years of Giallorossi memories in my big head, some being very bitter, but they have done nothing except give me even more strength. Our privilege is unique from others'. This is a privilege that always made me think that the best thing was the fact that Roma just played in general, despite winning or losing, and I, for love and for work, have been watching almost always, even like back on the 30th of May in 1984 when our Agostino was on the field. I have been there. I am there and I will be there, always, satisfied with my, our, privilege. I've always been afraid that, sooner or later, someone will come and, even here, tell us that the only thing that matters is winning or ask if Machiavelli is worth it. It doesn't matter. No, the only thing that matters to me is Roma; its diversity, its presence and the fans who never make me feel alone, even if I'm the only fan in the Sud wearing yellow and red which guarantees an energy that still makes me feel like Peter Pan.
Roma is a feeling. It is both a rational love and an irrational love as well as an emotion. Listen to me. This is all we have. With all of this, even now, days after the wonderful Tirana night, I find myself wiping the tears that stream down my big face as I think about that night. I am sure you can imagine that it happens often to me, reliving the dream of this Conference title over and over again.
It was emotional even before we raised the trophy in the Albanian sky. Being there would have been enough for me knowing that no negative result could have changed my love for Roma, because losing, strangely, makes me always feel even more Romanista (like when I had to deal with defeat after that damned thirteenth of May). It only made us stronger, stronger than ever. Fans from any team who smile for, appreciate, support and love their team only when they win make me mad (an understatement). A.s. Roma fans are not like that; they smile regardless of the outcome because they cheer for Roma, and they love Roma even without getting anything in return. Roma by itself is enough. Given this, try to understand me even if my madness subjects me to a psychoanalyst's bed, especially now after the triumph in Tirana, after that Conference trophy on display in our showcase, after the celebrations of wonderful people in an equally wonderful city and after the tears keep covering my big face. I'm almost afraid to win again. Maybe winning is most important to some, for heaven's sake, but I don't want to ever believe that winning is the only thing that matters. No, the only thing that matters is Roma. It is our privilege to be fans and to get the thrill of following the team to the end of the world; it means you will never be alone. We, the fans, look into each other's eyes and connect with one another over our stories of captains to whom you must tip your hat to. Our ability to enjoy this feeling is our way of living out our privilege. We are fans of Roma. The others don't, and they will never be able to, understand it.
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