Firstly, let me preface my preface by admitting I’m a blatant Brasilophile. What is there not to like the birds? Food? Footie? All world class and top notch by any standard and I’m all for it, bruv. My first time at the Emirates was oddly anticlimactic, dunno if I was expecting magnums to pop-pop off and Vieira and Henry to come sprinting back on Walt Frazier flavour but it seemed weirdly small and vacuous.

Sitting right behind the red, ribbed, condom-like tunnel my mate Mohammed and I were on the 50 yard line in the 20th row, absolutely pukka. Wearing my bastard, spamalot Gooner Brasilophile gear I wound up smack in the Ital section. All quite cool people though but being a friendly and a evenly matched crowd of 60,777( IT! TA! LY! chants versus CLAP,CLAP,CLAP,BRAAA-ZIL!)

The atmospheya started bubbling. The bloke behind us kept screaming “MARRRAACEEELLLOO!!!” at the old geez who turned out to be 32 game streaker and World Cup Italian manager Marcello Lippi. I thought he was a grounds man the way he stood there motionless and giving the turf the 1000 yard stare. Due to the sheer number of drunken Milanese blaring his name, Lippi was forced to sheepishly turn around and give the mafia crew a wee, twinkly eyed, old manish wave from time to time.

Then the paps went apeshit and turned on some fat, weird looking dude sitting above us in the non peasant exec seats. As soon as I spotted the stunning, young woman he had no business squiring around I noticed it was Italian Fiat/Ferrari/QPR owner, Formula One impressario and playboy billionaire Flavio Briatore…well the fact that loads of people were hollering “Flavvveyyooowww….!!Flaveyoooooo!” Already a few pints in we joined the Flavio choir much to his annoyance, brilliant when simple, cheap,good old fashioned heckling can piss of a man with that much dough, his bird liked it and I could’ve swore she was giving us come hither eyes..ah Yes the game.

Coming in to this “friendly” Italy were cruising following their WC win in 06 plus a 32 game winning streak. Brazil on the other overly tanned and well muscled hand had performed below average since the WC exit at the magicestry of Zizou and following boring games and randy pandying partying of Adriano, Robinho and Ronaldinho. Dunga now strolling about in an atrocious, light poo colored, Brokeback type leather jacket kept his men in check and acted like Al Pacino overacting.
In all Italy played pretty badly, with Pirlo masquerading as an amazingly ineffective, left back ?! Di Natale did himself no favours and Di Rossi was off with an ankle injury that ended his misery on a bitingly cold and windy North London night.Italy only fared better when Cameronesi,Giusepe Rossi and Luca Toni came on for the second half. Brazil played like they often should and are more than capable off. Dunga installed veteran centre half Lucio as skipper and fielded a full strength line up missing only Kaka and possibly maybe, the possibly Italian or Brazilian Juventus midfielder Amauri. Robinho and the man despised by Mark Hughes, Elano were the stars of the night, and spent the evening cruelly toying with Grosso and Zambrotta. Captain Fabio Cannavaro should remained the only Italian international to escape their rabid sports media machine unscathed, the Azurri skipper being the only member of his side that looked like they gave a toss.Robinho in particular pulled of some Fred Flinstone, twinkle toes sweetness culminating in his 9 stepover, goal which sent BOTH SETS of fans in to a genuinely, childish state of mass delirium.

Two biblical Mexican waves went through twice and captivated all performers/audience members. At this point 60,000 odd people completely forgot about the two best footballing sides in the world and got into the wave. I think play stopped for a bit and I know the players were watching. At one point a generalized groupie like frenzy took over our side of the stadium..everyone stood up on their seats to see who all the fuss was about, “Maldinimaldinimaldinimaldini…” buzzed about, turned out to be Gianfranco Zola…not quite the footballing giant Paolo is, but the Hammers gaffer was well received nonetheless. Emirates Stadium charges the equivalent of $7 hotdogs and beers, which you are banned from downing Mike Ashley/Bobby Hill style at your seats. This injustice cannot continue.

All in all brilliant stuff, great goals, top atmosphere, in a state of the art stadium. Couldn’t have seen two better sides.  Despite Italy (4 World Cups) being the current World Champions, How can you not pull for the Selecao with their rougueish, philandering, singing and playing little guitars and drums and playing keepie upie in the airport to Sergio Mendes, Rat Pack like ways?

At 2-0 it flattered Brazil but the crowd was more than entertained.

Sound.