Gooooooooaaaaal!

Yesterday, at around 5:45pm, my grandfather left the following message on my phone: "Irina, whatever you do, don't go to 18th Avenue! Italy won the soccer match! Don't go to 18th Avenue!"

Of course, it was too late. I was already on 18th Avenue, caught up in a spontaneous celebration parade with shirtless guys and girls wearing red, white, and green bikini tops, all the while chanting "I-ta-li-a, I-ta-li-a." There were also people from the old country who didn't even speak English, and NYFD firemen who somehow managed to modify the siren of their truck to play "Come back to Sorrento." Cars were driving up and down 18th Avenue and 86th Street while enthusiastic passengers were waving giant flags out of the windows. Everyone was caught up in the fantastic cacophony of car horns and screaming girls (some would say, those represent Brooklyn's most notable attributes).

It was awesome! Soccer is so boring, but soccer fans are so fun.