Certain nights never end | OneFootball

Everybody has their own rituals, their own thoughts running through their heads. There are those who think the worst, those who dream of the day after, and even further ahead. Deep down, every fan is unique, but all of them, at the same time, think and want the same thing. It’s a beautiful thing, being part of a family, a people. As it is to share this same nonsensical, incontrollable passion, which keeps you up at night reading, studying, re-watching old games, walking, running. Everyone has their own way of getting there, where we all wait for, where we all dream of.

Inter vs Barcelona, every generation has their own. Thinking back to the meetings of the past is certainly one way to cut the waiting time. But it matters in the right way, it matters in terms of sweet memories and old fears, it matters only to shorten the time until the one that matters most, this next edition of Inter vs Barcelona.

San Siro calls upon an entire people. And while all the Interisti in the world cannot fit into the Meazza, the players will know that the over 75,000 of them in the stands are added to by the millions of hearts and minds, focused on one, single thing.

Nobody knows what will happen, not the superstitious minds, not the statisticians. It’s the mystery of football that fascinates and rubs off on you, that drives you to near exhaustion, to that the game starts sooner and finishes, soon, for better or for worse. Because this game, this club, everything, is stupendous. But due to the physicality, your heart, your head, at a certain point, you need to slow down.

This is a night like many others: the night before. Every one of us will have hundred, or thousands, of Inter games in our heads. Games from the past, before we were even born. Everyone is here, gripped by the desire to get to kick-off, to breathe in every moment of the game.

Fear and hope, tension and emotion. They mix, maybe the rain will make the setting all the more dramatic, more epic, once again. The Bayern game has left something unique in the hearts of us all. The game a few days again in Barcelona ignited something in our fans: marvel, wonder, pride.

It’s in Milano that we wait and prepare. With our rituals, with our people, with those who will come to the Meazza for the first time, with those who could get to their sits with a blindfold on. The referee will blow his whistle, and the place will erupt. Within us the emotions, everyone has their own.

Nobody knows how it will end. Of course, everyone, at the stadium and at home, will have lost their voice by the final whistle.