Chapter 62 Heading South

The game unfolded much better than Fino had anticipated; Italy, despite losing its midfield linchpin and having an aging defense, proved to be a formidable opponent.

The two teams were tied after 90 minutes, and the score remained tied in extra time, eventually leading to a penalty shootout.

In the penalty shootout, Spain prevailed, sending Italy home.

This match was less a victory for Spain and more a victory for Casillas; the entire game was a battle of wits between the two goalkeepers.

Fino was thrilled to watch. Destroying the opponent's attacking hopes is exactly what a goalkeeper does. At both ends of the field stood the two best goalkeepers in the world.

If I could grow a little taller, perhaps I could be one of those chasing after them.

Casillas was the role model that Fino's coaches chose for him when he was in the youth team. He had studied Casillas extensively, so Fino was not surprised to see Casillas win the penalty shootout.

Buffon on the other side wasn't a loser either; he had done everything within his capabilities.

In this match, Fino gained a new understanding of Buffon. He realized that Buffon could be so powerful and charismatic when he was serious, completely different from his silly grinning self off the field. It was quite a contrast.

After Italy was eliminated, Pirlo and Gattuso, who were standing next to Fino, were both disappointed. Fino hugged them separately to comfort them.

"We will still have a chance in four years."

Pirlo shook his head inwardly. Four years later, there would probably be very few players left from the 2006 championship-winning squad. Italy was experiencing a severe talent gap, and it would be difficult for newcomers to fill the void left by the veterans.

But he didn't voice his concerns.

"Yes, we'll come back in four years. You'll be standing in front of me and Reno then."

...

After returning home and making some adjustments, Fino and Pirlo's trip together began.

Fino had planned the route in advance, starting from Milan and passing through cities such as Genoa, Pisa, Florence, Siena, Rome, and Naples, stopping randomly in small towns along the way, with the destination being the Amalfi Coast.

When Fino drove to Pirlo's house to pick him up, he was amazed by Pirlo's new look.

Pirlo dyed his hair chestnut blonde, and it must have been softened; it looked soft and flowing, shimmering golden in the sunlight with gentle curls, making him incredibly beautiful.

Wow! Andrea, you're so beautiful!

Pirlo smiled without saying a word, opened the back seat of the car, put his luggage inside, and the bracelet Fino had given him slid gently across his wrist as he moved.

He then got into the passenger seat, closed the door, fastened his seatbelt, and turned on the radio to play some music…

Once everything was ready, he turned to Fino and gave him a smiling salute.

"The first mate is ready. We can set sail, Captain!"

Fino snapped his fingers and started the car.

The drive from Milan to the Amalfi Coast takes about 10 hours, and it took Fino and Pirlo a full 12 days to drive it, taking turns.

This was truly a very relaxing road trip. Along the way, they experienced the customs and culture of different cities, visited historical buildings, learned about local culture, and tasted local delicacies...

Experience the breathtaking sunset reflected in the azure sea at Genoa's port; join the trend of tourists pushing the Leaning Tower of Pisa askew in Pisa; gaze upon the old city of Florence bathed in rose hues at dusk from Piazzale Michelangelo; and admire the beauty of Gothic architecture in the historic center of Siena…

When they passed through Rome, they did not linger. After having lunch and ice cream, they set off for Naples.

Naples is the last stop before reaching the Amalfi Coast. It is a typical southern Italian city, passionate, vibrant, and full of charm.

Fino and Pirlo spent the night chatting on the steps near Castel Saint-Émilion, overlooking the brightly lit nightscape of Naples.

Amidst the rustling of leaves in what seemed like a mountain breeze or a sea breeze, Fino listened as Pirlo recounted his past: his childhood vineyards, his frustrating early professional career, his successful transformation under Ancelotti, and the night in Istanbul when he lifted the World Cup trophy…

Fino would occasionally chime in, and Pirlo would respond before continuing.

In Pirlo's account, Fino seemed to see a stubborn Brescia boy, who went through hardships and overcame numerous difficulties to gradually reach the peak of his professional career.

Even after achieving fame and fortune, Pirlo still vividly remembers the hardships he faced on his journey, which keeps him constantly vigilant.

Pirlo did not suddenly begin to analyze himself.

He could vaguely sense that beneath Fino's open-minded and carefree exterior, there was still a corner in his heart where the shadows of his childhood experiences remained. Fino didn't easily show it, but the shadows of childhood often accompany a person throughout their life.

Like an oyster invaded by sand, it appears normal on the outside, but suffers greatly inside.

Pirlo believed that the grain of sand would eventually transform into a pearl through Fino's internalization, making Fino even more perfect and precious, but he did not want Fino to continue to be affected by those shadows.

So he used his own experience as an example, trying to give Fino some inspiration.

Pirlo didn't expect that after listening, Fino would take it as Pirlo's regret and resentment about his past hardships, and instead comfort him.

“Andrea, there’s an old Chinese saying, I don’t know if you’ve heard it before.” Fino rested his elbows on his thighs, cupped his face in his hands, and turned to look at Pirlo, “When Heaven is about to place a great responsibility on a person, it first tests their will, strains their muscles and bones, starves their body, empties their resources, and frustrates their endeavors…”

Fino looked completely sincere.

"In my heart, you are a near-perfect player. Perhaps it is the hardships and setbacks you have experienced that have forged this perfection. Most players fade into obscurity after retirement, within a decade or two at most. But you are different. Even a hundred years from now, you will still shine brightly in the hall of football."

Pirlo stared intently at Fino, whose reaction deviated from his intended purpose, but he was struck by the undisguised favoritism in the words.

Finally, he smiled and said, "So much confidence in me? I've never even won a Golden Globe."

Fino smiled too: "There are many Ballon d'Or winners, but there's only one Pirlo."

"What about me outside of football? What do you think of me?" Pirlo pondered for a moment before asking the question, half-jokingly and half-seriously.

“You’re perfect even outside of football.” Fino patted him on the shoulder. “Your looks, temperament, and intelligence far surpass those of ordinary people. Even if you don’t play football, you’ll definitely succeed in other endeavors.”

Pirlo shook his head and said gently, "No, you are perfect."

"So, is it time for mutual flattery now?" Fino joked.

The two of them burst into laughter.

Naples has a poor security record, and it's not safe at night. Staying outdoors all the time isn't the right choice, but the atmosphere of chatting with friends was just too nice, and Fino and Pirlo were reluctant to go back to the hotel.

Fortunately, they were not disturbed by the accident. Under a sky full of stars, with the city asleep and the deep sea in the distance, they chatted until dawn.

As dawn approached, the temperature dropped further. Pirlo took off his coat and tried to drape it over Fino's shoulders, but Fino refused.

"Haha, Andrea, I'm a man too, I don't need you to be such a gentleman~"

Pirlo didn't insist, but instead discussed it with Fino: "How about we wear them together? To block the wind and avoid catching a cold."

Fino nodded, and they huddled together under Pirlo's coat.

The thin coat seemed to put a protective shell on Fino, and the small space under the coat was like a small safe house, making Fino feel very safe.

He was getting sleepy, so he gently rested his head on Pirlo's shoulder, and his voice became muffled.

In that instant, Pirlo heard his own heart pounding deafeningly, as if Mount Vesuvius in the distance had erupted again, lava engulfing his heart. He knew he had completely succumbed.

But this is wrong! Pirlo smiled bitterly to himself.

He took Fino's hand and shook it gently a few times: "Fino, you can't sleep, you'll catch a cold."

“Okay…” Fino drawled, trying to open his eyes, but he kept his head resting on Pirlo’s shoulder and didn’t lift it up.

They said nothing more, but waited quietly for dawn to break.

During this time, Pirlo would gently shake their clasped hands every few minutes to make sure Fino wasn't asleep, and Fino would shake his hand in response.

The distant horizon where the sea meets the sky gradually turned golden.

Pirlo turned and kissed Fino on the forehead: "Fino, the sun is about to rise."

Fino straightened up, rubbed his eyes, and then stood up.

Pirlo's coat slipped to the ground as he moved, and he bent down and draped the coat back over Pirlo's shoulders.

Then he extended his hand to Pirlo.

Pirlo put his hand on Fino's hand and used it to stand up.

The two of them gently stretched their stiff backs, which had been stiff from sitting all night, while watching the sun rise above the horizon.

After sunrise, the sky gradually brightened, revealing the azure sea, blue sky, and the city bathed in the morning light...

Seeing the beautiful scenery before him, Fino murmured, "Take one look at Naples, and then die."

The proverb is absolutely true.

He and Pirlo exchanged a glance, then walked down the mountain.

Naples is waking up, and they should go to sleep too.

...

At four o'clock in the afternoon, they left Naples and drove southeast along the coastline.

Bypassing the magnificent Mount Vesuvius, passing the imposing ancient city of Pompeii, and winding uphill along the cliffside road, we finally arrived at the town of Positano on the Amalfi Coast.

As evening approached, the colorful buildings of Positano came into view. The sun gradually sank into the Mediterranean Sea, turning the horizon orange-red, while the cliffs behind the town shone golden.

Fino opened the car window, letting the sea breeze in.

“Blue sky, white clouds, sunset over the sea, cliffside town—it feels like driving through a fairy tale. I’ll never forget this trip; it’s just too beautiful,” Fino exclaimed, gazing at the scenery outside. He then turned to Pirlo and teased, “Especially with a blonde beauty sitting next to me.”

This section of the mountain road is very narrow and winding, so Pirlo needs to focus more on driving.

Upon hearing Fino's teasing, he didn't turn his head. Instead, he continued driving steadily with his eyes forward, only smiling and shaking his head, replying, "The one sitting next to me is the real beauty."