The joys of Juve-th

Crashing out of the Champions League at the group stages seemed at the time to be the final straw. I'm not sure 'funny' is the word, but what a funny thing hindsight is. Rather than being the last straw, it was in fact the catalyst that flung the floodgates open to a create a snowballing of disasters, that don't look set to cease any time soon. That was simly the tip of the ice-burg.

As a long suffering Bianconero, enough is now enough and I feel the need to speak up and express my utter despair at the pathetic excuse for a a football club that is, Juventus F.C.

Having been brought up in Evesham in the heart of Worcestershire, or 'The Sham' as we affectionately dubbed it, I have received so much stick for supporting an Italian team that I've become quite adept at making wigwams. Suffice to say, at last I feel that it is deserved.

Being of Italian decent, and youngest son of a Tottenham Hotspur fan meant that my opinon of football as a child was neither here nor there. In fact, I absolutely detested it, but looking back the capacity, and most probably the genes within me capable of falling in love with calcio were just waiting to be ignited.

Then one day it happened, and I remember that night as clearly as I can see the laptop screen from which I am typing this...it was May 14, 2003. Champions League Semi-final second leg, Juventus v Real Madrid. The tie was in the balance after Real Madrid's narrow 2-1 victory at the Estadio Santiago Bernabeu, with David Trezeguet grabbing a precious away goal.

For some reason I was bored and decided to watch the first few minutes of the game. Most likely I was avoiding doing homework or something, but never before that moment had I really given football a chance. It only took 12 minutes for Trezegol to repeat his trick from the first leg and put the Bianconeri 1-0 up. What followed was quite simply a footballing masterclass, handed out to the so called 'Galacticos'.

Pavel Nedved, who had been bought to help 'fill the void' left by Zinedine Zidane, stole the show. His decisive goal, and Juve's third of the game was sensational, and the look on Zidane's face when he scored it was priceless. At half time I asked my father who my Grandad used to support. I was quite close to my Grandad, but not quite as close as I would have liked to have been. He had just recently died and it was all still quite fresh, and difficult to deal with.

"Juventus", replied my father.

I was sold. Having viewed what I still consider to be one of the best games of football I have ever witnessed, with Juve running out winners 4-3 on aggregate, I decided from that day that I would carry on my Grandad's mantle, and support the MIGHTY Juventus. They went on to lose the final at Old Trafford to bitter rivals A.C Milan in the first and so far only ever all-Italian final, but it really did not seem to matter. This is a brilliant team, thought I, and they will be back. They've beaten the likes of Barcelona and Real Madrid with relative ease, they will win the Champions League next year...

Oh boy, how wrong I was...