Father's Day: 10 dads on the joys of taking their kids to watch Roma

Here’s what they had to say.

Tonino, father of Valeria

“My daughter has a deep bond with Roma – we’ve even gone to the training camp in Castelrotto a couple of times. You can imagine how much she loved that! Valeria represented Italy in triathlon at youth level, but even when she had races she never missed a game.

“She’d meet me at the stadium, always wearing a jersey with either [Francesco] Totti, [Daniele] De Rossi or [Alberto] Aquilani on the back. We used to sit in the Monte Mario or the Curva Sud, though she always wanted to be in the Curva. We’re missing all that – we’re missing the Olimpico. We miss cheering on Roma from the stands.”

Massimiliano, father of Marco

Massimiliano decided to have his son describe what it’s been like not being able to go to the stadium with his dad. This is Marco’s letter to his father.

“Let’s start with this photo, dad. It’s the last time we were able to go to see Roma. It was 26 February 2020, Gent away. It’s over a year ago now, but the situation remains the same. We don’t care about that, because we love our club, and though we do miss it, nothing can ever come between us and Roma. It’s our day-to-day, it’s what we share. And like all loves, it’s our joy and our suffering.

“We miss our build-up to the game, going off three hours before kick-off – I take the mick out of you because you’re old and you act like it’s still the 80s. Going to Piazza Mancini, where we grab a pizza and eat it with hundreds of other half-strangers, drawn there by our shared love. We walk quicker now, cross the bridge and race up the stairs, entering our home once again.

“On my birthday on 15 March, you asked me what I wanted for my present. ‘Nothing, dad. I just want my season ticket back,’ was my answer. It’s Father’s Day today, and the only promise I can make is that we will return. We will breathe in that unique atmosphere together again – the atmosphere that only the stadium can conjure up and that only those that love Roma can breathe in and share. And that will be the best possible gift – one we share together.”

Stefano, father of Valerio

“Supporting a football team – really supporting a team – is like a kind of chronic unease. It’s intentional, contagious and indestructible. Normally it’s passed down from your parents, and in my case I caught it as soon as I entered the stadium and saw the stands for the first time. That’s where you fall hopelessly in love with the colours (yellow and red, of course). The people you see wearing them become legends.

“That’s what happened to me the first time my father had the smart idea of taking me to the Olimpico when I was young, a tradition I later carried on with my son Valerio. Of course, the suffering during games never stops, but I don’t think any fan would want to give that up.

“My son and I almost always stick to the same ritual when we go to watch Roma. We park the car near Piazza Mancini, we cross the bridge and then we take a slow walk up the road. We always wear the same scarfs. I think supporting Roma was something I passed on to him the first time we went, a Roma v Cremonese match back in 1993, when he wasn’t even six years old. We lost, unfortunately, but Valerio was fascinated by the stadium, the fans, the colours…”

Alberto, father of Gianluigi

“You want to say you enjoy watching the game from the comfort of your own home, but weekends aren’t what they used to be, without my trips to the Olimpico with my son. Gianluigi and I would be ready by 11 in the morning, decked out in red and yellow with scarfs and hats and everything. Mortadella sandwiches, coffees, sweets bought from the café at the stadium…

“We used to meet my brother Silvano and a close friend, Lucianello, in front of the stadium – both have sadly passed away before their time now. From the moment we met, we were no longer normal people. We were possessed, irritable, superstitious, waiting for the line-up to come out. Then it was time for the game, when anything could happen. And come the final whistle, it was either a triumph or a funeral. Now that’s a proper weekend!”

Filippo, father of Stella

“Ever since that day in 2014, when I learned of the tragic deaths of Stefano and Cristian, a father and son who had been killed in a road accident on their way back from the stadium, I started to notice something. I started to notice the young boys and girls holding hands with their parents or being carried, clutching a Roma flag, their eyes full of anticipation for the day ahead.

“My father, Antonio, was the one who instilled a passion for the Giallorossi within me and who taught me that Roma is serious business. He was the one that got me my first season ticket, in the Distinti sector, back in the 1980s. We had some wonderful nights in the stands together – nights I relive every time I approach the stadium and see all those fathers with their children. It makes you think about how Roma gets handed down from generation to generation.

“If she wants to, the day my daughter comes to the stadium with me, I’ll tell her how much I’ve missed it all during this most surreal of years. And I’ll tell her how much I miss my father – the way his eyes got watery when he told me stories about Giacomo Losi, the way he exploded with joy every time Roma won."

Fabio, father of Andrea

“My son and I have had season tickets in the Curva Sud since 2017. He was brought up on Roma – his dad and uncle have been watching from the Sud since 1981 and his grandfather is still going to the stadium at the age of 79. I’ve told him all about [Francesco] Rocca, about the ’83 Scudetto and about that damned final in ’84. I’ve told him about [Paulo Roberto] Falcao, Bruno Conti, Il Principe [Giuseppe Giannini], Rudi [Voller] and Daniele De Rossi. And I’ve told him about how lucky I was to watch the entire career of the greatest ever: Totti.

“I’ve told him about CUCS [Commando Ultra Curva Sud] and how much of an honour it is to have that card. Andrea was a Roma fan even before he was born. When he went to the stadium for the first time, I took a photo of him. I saw myself in him – climbing those stairs with my brother, our grandfather bringing up the rear. All that’s missing now – and we miss it terribly. Every Sunday, we recreate the Sud at home, with scarfs and flags. Andrea starts the chants. But we’ll be back, back stronger. Forza Roma.”

Riccardo, father of Filippo and Alessandro

“More than a year has passed since 23 February 2020, the last time we watched Roma at the stadium. Who knows how many games have gone past now without us being able to physically stand alongside our beloved Roma. And yet we’ve always been there, never giving an inch, never having second thoughts. Comfortable on the sofa, but with an uneasy feeling in our hearts. We’ve always been behind you, for better and for worse, waiting for [Edin] Dzeko to score, or for [Leonardo] Spinazzola to go on the overlap, or for [Gianluca] Mancini to step up and make a ball his, or for [Gonzalo] Villar to do one of his pirouettes, or for [Lorenzo] Pellegrini or [Henrick] Mkhitaryan to produce one of their moments of magic.

“We miss it all. We miss the buzz of the fans as we approach our seat, we miss the pre-match chat with our fellow fans, we miss the adrenaline in the air, the chants from the Sud, the yells and hugs after a goal, that great, shared joy of victory, and even that thump on the back after a bad result.

“We miss it all, because that’s Roma. A habit we don’t want to kick.”

Alessandro, father of Christian, Simone and Livia

“I’m 45 years old and my association with Roma began in the early 1980s. My father passed the passion on to me. He used to take me to the stadium with my auntie and uncle. I grew up with Roma. I now have three children – Christian is 10, Simone is seven and Livia is four. The first time I took my son Christian to the stadium was in September 2014, for a 2-0 win over Cagliari. We were in the Tevere. What a moment.

“The last game was saw together was Roma v SPAL, in December 2019. Football has changed. And sadly the pandemic has meant we’ve all had to stay home. I miss the stadium, the people. I miss climbing those stairs, seeing the pitch, smelling the wet grass in winter or the smoke of the flares, hearing the team being announced over the loudspeaker.

“I miss those hugs after we score – with friends and even with strangers. I miss all that. When we get back to normality, I’ll take all three of my kids to the stadium. And I’ll ask my dad to come with us. After all, it all started thanks to him. Forza Roma forever.”

Massimo, father of Valerio

“Scialla, papà…” Relax, dad, as Valerio always says. I’ve always hated that word – it’s as if it was created just to drive a wedge between boomer parents and their kids. But now I miss hearing it – I really do. Kids shouldn’t grow up, because the more they grow up, the further they get away – and not just physically speaking. You go from the role of indestructible superhero to senile old codger. That’s life. Your points of view grow apart, common ground seems to disappear.

“The magic of Roma is like a parallel dimension, existing outside of time, where you’re no longer a man, woman, father or son. You’re just a fan. That’s why there’s no better moment than going through the turnstiles with your son. And that’s why there’s no more crushing blow than hearing him whisper: sorry dad, I’m seeing my friends today. Because you know that’s it, forever. He won’t be there anymore to tell you off, calm you down, hug you, cry with you. When you lose your temper after a misplaced pass, he won’t be there to say papà, scialla…. we’re going to score.

I hate this damn virus. It’s taken everything from us, brought all this forward. It’s not fair. But life isn’t fair – as [Maurizio] Turone, [Kenny] Dalglish and many others have shown us.”

Riccardo, father of Claudia and Francesco

"I miss going to the stadium an awful lot. And I miss going with my children, Claudia and Francesco, even more. It was a special moment for us – leaving the house, getting the metro and then the tram to Piazza Mancini before walking the last stretch… That was the best thing about it – being together.

"I took my daughter to the stadium for the first time when she was one. She’s 14 now. We’ve kept the tradition going in the family section. For me, going to the stadium is about strengthening the family passion. And taking my kids means even more to me because I’m separated. It brings back memories of times when we were together. When all this is over, when COVID is behind us, taking my kids to the Olimpico will be one of the first things I do.”