With Inter’s preseason campaign set to kick off in just three days time and the mercato rumours swirling all around us, I thought I’d take some time to write a more personal piece on the journey I’ve taken to reach this point in my Inter supporting life.
In June 1990 when I first laid eyes on the jaw dropping grandeur of a redeveloped Giuseppe Meazza, visiting Italy let alone Milano seemed as unimaginable as the Cameroon national side beating defending World champions Argentina in the opening game of that summers World Cup. History will show however that Francois Omam-Biyik gave Africa one of its finest football days and 22 years later, I would be stood outside this cathedral of football fulfilling an almost life long dream.
In between those two events my love for the team that wear black and blue, who co-inhabit this magnificent stadium grew and developed like some of the very best romantic fiction that’s available in your local bookstore. Sure, there have been moments of heartbreak and upset but there has also been joy and happiness, some of which is almost unparalleled in my life. I often smile when somebody on Twitter or in a conversation I’m having refers to football and Inter as ‘not being real life’. For some Inter is a form of entertainment, a pastime that can be picked up and put down like a PS3 controller or the latest gadget they have purchased. In my world thinking about Inter comes as naturally as the oxygen I breathe or the food and water I must take into my body in order to sustain life.
It’s November 1990 and my life in all honesty was pretty crap, I’d moved to a new school (which I hated) and things at home were far from easy. On a cold and typically wintery English night I was the only person staring intently at a small TV screen in a local pub, my mum used to meet her friends there and I would play football in the garden with some of their children. On this night I had asked to have my meal brought to the table directly in front of the television so I wouldn’t miss a minute of what was taking place before me. The event in question was a UEFA Cup tie between FC Internazionale and Aston Villa. Living just a few miles down the road from Birmingham and being a massive football fan already, I had watched the first leg in disbelief as Villa built a healthy 2-0 lead to defend on Italian soil. The English pundits seemed confident that the Claret and Blues would emerge victorious from this contest but I wasn’t so sure.
As the teams took to the pitch in what I considered (and still do) the finest football arena in the world, I was almost willing Inter to score the first goal so the tie would be competitive. Score they did and before the night was out they would score twice more to complete the unlikeliest of comebacks. Thinking about that night even now, nearly 23 years later I still remember the scenes at the final whistle, the noise and of course the stadium. This gigantic football coliseum was rocking to its recently reinforced foundations. I was infatuated and when live Italian football matches came to British screens just 18 months later I already had my club. These emotions stayed with me until last season when I finally managed to watch Inter in the stadium I had dreamt about for all those years.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that for me there is no divide between life with Inter and life without them. Inter are my ‘real life’; they are as much a part of me as my wife, my family and all the other important aspects of my day-to-day existence. I live with them everyday and will no doubt die with them in my heart. I hope you have enjoyed a small glimpse of what Inter have meant to me and as always: Sempre Forza Inter!
