It’s 2:39 pm on a Tuesday afternoon in mid-September. I text a good friend of mine while I’m scrambling out of my classroom if he found us some seats. He has, there were only two left at the bar. I gather up my belongings and head outside, only a five minute walk from the school pub. The Scudetto badge on my Juventus jersey shines in the sunlight as I make my way to the building. The pub is packed to brim and why wouldn’t it be? It’s match day 1 of the new Champions League Season. I greet my friend, he’s already ordered us a pitcher of beer and a plate of nachos. I made it just in time to see beginning of the match. It’s Juventus facing Sevilla. There they were, the players walking out of the tunnel. The stadium turns into a sea of black and white, the tifo begins to assemble. The clean cut grass, 22 of the best athletes on the planet, the child mascots smiling, standing side by side with their heroes, there’s not a better sight anywhere on planet earth. Then I hear it, the Champ