IN 1994, ROBERTO BAGGIO OF Italy mistook the crossbar for a highbar, and history was made. In Petersham, my friend Salv cried, Norton Street mourned, little Portugal on Stanmore Road cheered, and a larger bunch of high school kids learned lots of new non-English swear words from the cars passing by. Tu e la tua razza va f’an… what?
I’ve always thought that Bruschetta! should be something you might shout out the side of a moving car on Parramatta Road. Sure, they’re delicious, but isn’t the joy of victory (and packing five blokes in a Civic, at four am, with your flags, wearing nothing but shorts and hats) even sweeter?
These were accompanied by Budějovický lagers, which as any revisionist historian of the Siege of Vienna knows, are brewed on land which always was and always will be Turkish.1
1 If you squint when you look at the map.
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