“To lose to Milan in the semi-final, after 20 years, will be the most horrible thing.” “I have a sick feeling,” says Alfio, an Inter fan in a distressed leather jacket buying Pall Malls near the canal. Most of the Inter fans I speak to are a little more optimistic about their chances, but make a similar admission: the anticipation of victory is vastly outweighed by the dread of defeat. “The final will be Manchester City against Inter,” he declares glumly. The following morning, a low-ranking club employee who for obvious reasons must remain nameless is telling me he is desperate for Manchester City to win this season’s Champions League, just so Inter do not. This is Milan’s last night as champions and nobody quite knows what happens next. Napoli are 15 points clear and playing the following night. Two hours up the road, their city rivals, Internazionale, have crushed Verona 6-0 to move ahead in the Serie A table. An injury-time equaliser from Junior Messias salvages an unlovable 1-1 draw.
As Divock Origi runs into dead ends and Charles De Ketelaere keeps tripping over the ball, the Milan faithful begin to grumble.Ī man in a Wu-Tang Clan T-shirt swears loudly in between sucks of his vape.
Milan, resting half a dozen first-team players, are trying and largely failing to break down Cremonese, who are trying and failing to stave off relegation to Serie B. Then a whistle blows and what follows is – frankly – not great.
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