

The Champions League derby, return leg of the 2002-2003 semi-final. My dad had been going crazy looking for tickets, but it had all been in vain. On the eve of the match, I went to bed having lost all hope. I was 12 and the next day I should have gone to school, after desperately dreaming of being at the San Siro for the first time. The next morning, at 7:50 am, the house phone rings, I thought it was my grandfather who accompanied me to school every morning. I open the door and behold, my father (who, separated from my mother, no longer lived with me), who calls me: "Come on, hurry up, pack your bags, our flight from Bari is at 10 am". I have no words to describe my joy, I was trembling at the entrance of the San Siro, the chants and Sheva’s goal were the greatest emotions, then off to Manchester!
by Alessandro Ippolito
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