This one is for all the lovers out there, he said — I think to me? — before running towards the penalty and missing — ‘skying it,’ as the phrase goes, and I have to admit that I stood there baffled behind my professional refereeing face. The man’s touch was automatic. He was like a living embodiment of that commercial featuring Becks binning it into trash drums on the beach at greater and greater distances. 

He was probably having a laugh, but as the players gathered around begging for me to call another penalty however many minutes later it was, I realized: in addition to having a laugh, he was also being throughly serious. I told the fullbacks this — this was serious, you know — and they agreed. You’re bloody right it’s serious!

I tried to make out who he had kicked the ball to in the crowd, but there were too many people up there to count. I tried to draw a square in the air as to where I thought the ball was most likely to go, and everyone agreed that it would probably be best if I went over to the monitor to have a look, so I went over to the monitor to have a look.

Who were the lovers out there? I thought, leaning close to take a look. I worried my eyeballs would break the crease of the page. And what did I care as to whether or not a professional footballer was flirting with someone in the crowd?

I paused. I stepped back. I looked away from the monitor at the crowd and back at the monitor again.

What was the Italian Men’s National Team doing in the crowd?