"I-TAL-IA! I-TAL-IA! I-TAL-IA!"


It's deafening.
The whistles, the horns, the cheers.
Green, white and red.
News crews everywhere you turn...

and it's only 1:30pm, at the start of the game.
By 1:31pm, Roxy has had enough; she's pulling like a husky, panting manically and her gaze is fixed towards home.
Okay, you win Roxy. We're going home.