#Football Italia

[kaisermaschine]

Venezia FC ⚽️🇮🇹

[footballmanageraddict]

Golazzo | Part 1 | Football Italia In Football Manager

#FM24 #Golazzo Part 1: Football Italia In Football Manager. With #FM25 delayed until March, we begin a new nostalgia-filled adventure using the epic 1994/95 database created by @MadScientistFM. First up, we explore the football world in 1994. Read here:

With Football Manager 2025 being delayed until March, what better opportunity to have a trip down memory lane with an awesome nostalgia-filled custom database? Growing up in the early 1990s, some of my earliest memories of “getting into” football news and watching football were formed by Channel 4’s Football Italia. I have great memories of watching the legendary James Richardson sipping his…

[harrison-abbott]

For those of us that are old enough to remember the 1990s – do you remember this show? It used to come on Channel 4 and it would show the soccer news from the latest week, at the weekend. It ran from 1992 to 2002. Mind? That was when the Serie A had so many good teams and players. Batistuta, Ronaldo Nazario, Del Piero, Maldini, Zidane, Buffon, Rui Costa, Nedved, Zanetti. It was just a joy to watch that league in its heyday. And it kinda seemed like the 90s was the last proper decade of soccer. Because it’s changed so much in the modern age. I remember when I was a kid waking up in the morning and watching this show; it was better than Match of the Day on a Saturday night. … And it’s not as if Italian football isn’t great anymore. It still is. It’s just that those players ^ will be missed forever, and all of those amazing teams. Amen.

[melanieph321]

If you’re writing for Riccardo calafiori i have a lil req! You work for bologna and always have to do media work with him but you’re not a fan of his attitude and make that known and in return he makes it known he doesn’t like you. Then one night you guys are at a charity event and you’re both drinking when you shouldn’t be then one thing leads to another and you’re fucking each other in one of the empty rooms of the hall😼

This is sooo good!!! 🤭🤭🤭

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0

(DAY 2)

Riccardo Calafiori x Reader - Difficult Part 1/3

Part 2 Part 3

Enjoy!

Post-match interviews, just the words post-match interviews, brought you nightmares as a media manager for Bologna FC.

The preparations, as well as the handling of Italian media, was nothing your professors at school could have ever prepared you for. Neither could they have anticipated the sheer pain in the ass it would be to work with someone like Riccardo Calafiori.

"Who do I get?" You asked your boss, a native Bolognian, and the media principal for the team. He was handing out spreadsheets to each of your colleges, preparing them for the questions the different journalist and their publication may want to ask the players. It was a standard procedure after any game. However, as your boss got to you, there were no more sheets for him to hand out. Instead, he slipped you a pink Post-It note that read - Keep him happy. Keep it short.

"What's this?" You frowned reading the note.

"You're notes."

"But for who? Surely I'm gonna need a bit more than....."

"Y/N." You're boss sighed. "I'm giving you the responsibility of Calafiori tonight. Please do me the favor and make the interviews go as smooth as possible, okay?"

"Calafiori?" You protested. "I'm sorry, sir, but you've got to be kidding me, right? Bologna just lost 3-0 to Fiorentina FC."

"And let's not forget Calafiori's red card." Your boss wiped the sweat of his shiney forhead. "Look, I know that it's not ideal. But the media is eager to speak to him. Let's just make his encounter with the press as quick and snooth as possible. No distractions."

"No. I refuse."

"Please, Y/N. You've done so well before. Why not do it again? Just this one?"

It was true. The last time you had to deal with Riccardo Calafiori and his sharp temperament was in a similar context. Bologna had just been knocked out of Copa Italia after an unnecessary tackle made by Calafiori, who injured a player, which resulted in stoppage time. Enough stoppage time for Bologna to concede a late goal, ultimately losing the crucial game. Calafiori had arrived at the teams dressing room and set out to break anything in his path. That is, until you convinced him to go ahead with his post-match interviews in order to be the first player to be let go for the day. To your suprise, Calafiori agreed to your terms without arguing any further. This achievement certainly earned you some points with your boss. However, something told you that this time would be different.

You watched Bologna players flee their own locker room at the sight of a fuming Calafiori. He made his way down the stadium tunnel, hair covering his face like a dark and unraveling vail. He marched on, into the locker room, slamming the door behind him.

"How about a five percent raise on your salary?" Your boss said, his gaze also fixiated down the tunnel.

"Ten."

"Five, plus an invite to the teams next charity event in Milano."

"Deal."

"Grazie mille!"

It was set. You stuffed the Post-it note in the pocket of your jeans and made your way to the players' locker room. Surely this time couldn't be worse than the last? People change, don't they?

There was only one way to find out.

Part 2 Part 3

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

What a difference 34 years makes juxtaposition of Fiat Panda Italia '90, 1990 & Fiat Grande Panda Italia '90, 2024, by Garage Italia. The Milan-based custom shop has produced a number of concepts based on the new electric Grande Panda that reference Panda’s from the past

[zibaldone-di-pensieri]

Today's Big Match

Today's Real Big Match

[viejospellejos]

Nombra algo más italiano…

[avalentina]

Bookstore Owner Y/N x Christian Pulisic Preview

Warnings: Multi-Lingual (Some Italian mixed in, I will translate most of it), otherwise none as of yet, this is just super cute and fluffy so far, the reader is half American half Italian but grew up in Italy.

892 Words

I’m grabbing another box of reshelves when the little chime above the door of Rose’s Books dings. My grandmother used to call me her little rose and it was her who fueled my love of books. When I get out from the storeroom, a young guy about my age is wandering around looking at everything. He looks like he just finished an early evening run. His short hair has these adorable natural curls to it and when his amazing brown eyes meet mine, the box slips from my hands and thumps to the floor, landing on my foot.

“Merda, ouch.” I yelp as he rushes over with a shy smile on his face and grabs the box. Easily hoisting it onto the nearby counter.

“Is your foot okay?” He asks with an American accent and my stomach erupts in butterflies.

“It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. Bruised toes tend to happen when you own a bookstore.”

“Oh, you own this place? It’s cozy, I like it.” He says, that shy smile back

“Thank you.”

“I take it you’re Rose?” He asks.

“Well technically my name is Y/N, rose is a nickname from my best childhood memories, so it seemed fitting. But anyways, did you just come in to browse or are you in need of a specific title?” I ask, shaking myself out of the daze and back into sales mode.

“I was hoping you had a copy of The Sorcerer’s Stone. I lost mine.” He says sheepishly.

“I don’t have The Sorcerer’s Stone, but I do have The Philosopher’s Stone.” I say with a knowing smile.

“I keep forgetting it has a different name in America.” He says and we fill the short walk over to its shelf with talk about Potter. I hand him the book and our fingers brush as he takes it from me.

“All set then, or do you need some time to browse?” I ask, hoping he opts for the latter option.

“I think I will take a peek around if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” I nod. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’m a firm believer that a good book is always better with a comforting drink.” I’ve got a little setup of some espresso, tea options, water, lemonade, and my favorite apple cider behind the register station.

“Maybe just a small lemonade.” He says and I grab him one before going back to my shelving. As I go around the shop reshelving I feel the weight of his eyes on me from time to time and can’t help but take quick glances over at him as well. He’s just so pretty to look at.

I hear the door chime again, as my best friends and business partners Livia and Nico come in to help me close up the shop. Nico grabs his first box and starts reshelving before setting it aside and rushing back over.

“Y/N why is Christian Pulisic in the shop right now?” He asks me and I guess he’s referring to the cute guy with brown eyes.

“He needed a new copy of Philosopher’s Stone. What’s wrong with that?”

“He's Christian Pulisic, one of the new signings for AC Milan.

“So he’s a footballer?” I ask.

“One of the BEST footballers ever. I bought his jersey to wear to games as soon as the transfer was finalized.”

“Okay Nico, breathe, he’s also a normal human being. Why don’t you do the reshelves in the kids section and I’ll finish your area.”

“Would it be a bad time for me to get his autograph?”

“Of course not, happy to chat with a fan.” The guy who I guess is kind of a big deal says to Nico with a genuine smile and extends his hand so Nico can shake it.

“Ciao. È un piacere conoscerti di persona. Sei incredibile. Adoro quando fai scivolare la palla tra le gambe di un altro giocatore, penso che tu la chiami nutmeg, comunque è così bello.”

“I'm going to be honest. I have no idea what you just said. I recognized nutmeg but that's about it.

“Not to worry Christian, I can translate Nico for you. He said, Hello. It’s nice to meet you in person. You’re amazing. I love it when you slip the ball through another player’s legs, I think you call it a nutmeg, anyway it's so cool.” I say. “Nico just has a tendency to get all of his rushed thoughts and ramblings out in Italian. It's a lot easier.”

“That makes sense. Maybe all I need is an Italian tutor.” He says, looking at me with that shy smile.

“Oooh, Y/N would be amazing at that. After all, she is half American.” Livia chimes in, having finished her round of reshelves.

Christian raises an eyebrow and my face flushes as I explain. “My father was on vacation in Florence when he met my mother who was on holiday there with her friends.”

“Her parents are the best Italian love story. Boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy and girl enjoy classic Italian food, boy up and moves to Italy to be with girl.” Livia adds and I bury my face in my hands.

“That's actually adorable.” Christian says. “So what do you say? Will you help me learn Italian?”

[mingemuncher43]

get this man in my club this instant

[nicoscheer]

A bit of shirt shopping with Ellis

I can’t properly deal with the way he went from I to [] like he got BROAD

[steph-photographie]

Dieu local ... à Naples ! A Naples, Maradona est considéré comme un Dieu à tous les coins des rues !

[amamiofacciouncasinoo]

In occasione di stasera 🇮🇹❤️

[ezekiel13]

Revenge of the Sith is like Italia 90.

You watch Italia 90 and each time you hope that they’ll win.

You watch RotS and each time you hope that Anakin doesn’t betray the Jedi- that Yoda or Mace will kill Palpatine.

And the story never changes. It was already written

[melanieph321]

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0

(DAY 2)

Riccardo Calafiori x Reader - Difficult Part 3/3

+18

Part 1 Part 2

Reader is the media manager for Bologna FC and is reluctantly paired up to help Riccardo Calafiori with interviews after a badly played match.

Enjoy!

It was strange. You spent the weekend believing that you were fired from your job, only to receive a phone call on Monday from your boss, asking you to come fly to Milano with him.

"So....why am I here exactly?" You asked, all dressed up and in a full face set with makeup.

"What do you think, I need help with the press." He insisted.

The Bologna FC annual charity event was held in honor of the teams own foundation. Donations were made throughout the year, but the annual charity event was a chance for sponsors to meet the players and the recipients of the granted scholarships that the foundation offered.

"I get that part, but why did I have to dress up?" Your boss had been awfully specific during your phone call. Especially when it came to which hotel you would be staying at, along with what attire you should wear for the big event (high heels, black dress).

"Y/N, hasn't anyone told you that asking too many questions can be perceived as rude?"

"No. Asking questions is my job. Your job too."

"For God's sakes."

You were pulled aside. Your boss spoke to you in hushed tones. "Don't let tonight fool you. If it was up to me, you'd be long gone, fired for the shit you pulled last week. However, a certain player may or may not have refused to appear in front of the press tonight unless you were present."

"Huh, who?"

"Oh, please. Don't act coy with me. I should have known that it was more to you and Calafiori. No one has managed to get him to attend these things, let alone speak to the press about the teams work with the foundation. Just make sure that your relationship is kept under wraps until the end of the season, will you?"

"Wait, what?" You were as confused as you had ever been. "Riccardo refused to attend the event unless I did so too?"

"Here we go again, Riccardo, Riccardo. How about you stick to addressing him by last name while he's here."

"He's here?"

"Jupp. He's coming this way too."

You turned around at the exact moment that Riccardo spotted you from across the room. A smile lit up his face as he set out to approach you.

"Just remember what I said." Your boss whispered. "Keep whatever is going on between you away from the press."

"How many times must I tell you? Nothing is going on between me and...."

"Y/N!"

"Riccardo!" At the moment of his appearance, your boss gave you one last stern look before slipping away.

"You made it." Riccardo said, sounding genuinely happy to see you. You had never seen him so dress up either, with his hair brushed back and set behind his ears. "I was hoping that your boss received the email that my assistant sent him."

"Yeah, about that. You were already quite set off from the crowd. However, you took the initiative to look for more privacy. Thankfully, Riccardo respected your wishes, following you into an empty salon decorated with flower ornaments and a grand piano.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" He asked, speaking to you with unrecognizable grace, as if the two of you were strangers yet acquainted.

"Yeah, please tell me whatta he'll is going on?"

He frowned.

"I was fired last week." You exclaimed. "From the shit you pulled at the press conference."

Riccardo regarded you curiously, a sly smile on his lips.

"And don't tell me that you haven't had a say in me being here, because my boss just told me that you do."

"I do?"

"Yes, you do. So please, for once, be honest with me."

"Honest?"

"Yes, be honest."

"Honestly....last week made me feel like shit. Not the part where I told those journalists to fuck off. They sincerely deserved that."

Your arms folded as you rolled your eyes.

"But, I do regret getting you fired Y/N. When I noticed you missing during the post interviews of last night's game, I realized that I fucked up and needed to make things right."

"And so you brought me here, to Milano?"

"Yes."

"But, why?"

"To apologize of course."

"Well, apology accepted. Can I go now?"

"Y/N, wait."

It was the first time that you touched. Riccardo, despreatly grabbing a hold of your wrist as you turned your back on him. "Don't leave." He said. No. Demanded.

You turned back around to find his eyes shamelessly eyeing you up and down.

"I cant't belive you wore it."

"Wore what?" You frowned.

"You're boss is a real push over, you know that right?"

"I do, but in what way are you..."

He pulled you towards him. With his hand around your wrist, you stumbled forward, Riccardo catching you in his arm. "He's a real bitch."

Your faces were inches apart. The tip of your nose, the bridge between your touching lips. You smiled. "I've never heard a grown man call another man a bitch before."

He smirked, a hand reaching to remove a hairstrand from your face. "Well, get used to it, baby. You're with me now."

"God, you're so difficult to work with."

"Difficult to work with, but easy to get in bed. There's always two sides to a coin."

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me already."

It was done in relief. The smacking lips and groping hands were all done to finally release the intense sexual tension between you. It had always been there, underlying, knocking on the surface. Riccardo felt it, and so did you. Hey, even your boss jinxed it. Now, the two of you were pushed up against a grand piano with Riccardo's large frame hovering over yours as he lifted you up and laid you down on top of it.

"Fuck me."

"Don't you want to me to play with you first?"

"Play? I'm a grown woman."

He laughed and proceeded to bend down and kiss you, his lips wet and soft against your own.

Who knew that all that hot-headed temper would be put to good use. Riccardo was a fair enough football player but an even better lover. He insisted on taking care of you first, refusing for you to reach for his belt. At least not until he had you arching your back on top of the piano, begging him to stop eating you out.

"No." He chuckled, as you squirmed on top of the piano.

"Please. I'm making a mess."  Being a mess was the correct term. Once Riccardo detached his lips from between your legs, you made the effort to pat down your tousled hair, as well as wipe off any smudge lipstick.

"I hate you." You said. To which he grinned.

"No, you don't. I'm just difficult to work with."

Part 1 Part 2

[fght-ff-yr-dmns]

Sensible Soccer x Serie A

Some 90's Serie-A legends given the 8-bit Sensible Soccer pixel (mixel) art treatment.

There's absolutely no doubt that in the 90's the Italian top flight of professional football was best in the world. So many great teams, iconic players, legendary kits and before all the corruption malarkey lol.

Any favourites?

Courtesy of SensibleSWOS