by Francesca Di Meglio

My boyfriend Antonio swears that if he didn't have such a strong heart, he would have had a heart attack during the final match between France and Italy. Initially, it was like reliving a nightmare. We already had lost to France in humiliating ways - first with penalty kicks in the 1998 World Cup, which France went onto win, and then in the last moment of supplementary time in the 2000 European Cup final.

I was sick - absolutely sick - to my stomach during the match, especially when the referee gifted a penalty kick to Zinedine Zidane in the very beginning of the match. Here we go again, I thought. But Matterazzi would come back to save us with a header that flew past the French side like a flash from God. There was still hope. I just didn't want to see penalties again. My heart couldn't take that.

Moments before the match was to head into penalty shots, the great Zidane, famous for his good sportsmanship, lost his mind and head-butted Matterazzi right in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. Red card for Zidane. I couldn't believe the mighty had fallen. Would God let someone who took a cheap shot - regardless of what Matterazzi said to provoke him - win the World Cup for the second time? I think not.

When we reached the penalty stage, all of the Italians in Ischia were silent as mice. I was clutching a pillow and holding against my stomach. My hands were shaking. I could hardly breathe. Why did we have to suffer through these penalty kicks yet again? I flashed back to Roberto Baggio missing the penalty shot in 1994, the last time Italy was in the final.

David Trezeguet, who plays for Italy's Juventus and scored the winning goal in Euro 2000, was called into the match at the end, undoubtedly to perform his same tricks. But this time he failed to score a goal during the supplementary time. Something told me it wasn't his year. Sure enough, he missed the penalty shot - and all of the Italians made it. When Fabio Grosso banged the ball into the net, I barely understood what was happening. Is it possible? Did Italy just win the World Cup? Indeed, Italy was the champions of the world.

Fireworks started going off outside Antonio's house and people ran through the streets with horns, flags and T-shirts that read four-time champions. It was no dream. This was real. By the time we reached the main piazza in Ischia Porto, there were people everywhere waving flags and singing songs. At a certain point, the entire crowd started singing the Italian national anthem.

There were even more fireworks and mini fires. People were flowing in and out of a nearby bar drinking coffee and breaking open bottles of champagne. Piles of Italians hopped onto open vans and sang songs to the crowd. A group of young kids climbed on top of a bus and held up the Italian flag. There was smoke and fire. It was magnificent. And more than 600,000 Italians turned up in Roma to greet the Italian players - the gladiators as they called them - the day after the spectacular dream.

I could not have written it better. Finally, Italy had won against France in a game that came down to penalty kicks. Finally, we had faced our demons. Finally, we had won. And another team was crying.

For photos of the celebrations in Ischia, visit www.francescadimeglio.com on or after Wednesday, July 12. Auguri Azzurri!

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