Watching football with two Italians with "mojo" resulted in possibly the cutest thing I've seen in ages.
Two guys, both with impecable hair, ray ban sunglasses, and outfits that put my frumpness to shame, sit with me at a table in Claremont where we have just eaten almost everything on the sushi menu for half price. Each guy has one chopstick at times in his mouth at times between his teeth as he stares agonizingly at the TV screen showing the New Zealand vs. Italy match. At Italy's free kick, G, the more easily handsome one to my left, holds onto his chopstick with both hands and hides his face behind it, lowering his head down to the table peeking through where he can. D walks stands up and sits down, then stands up, then sits down again. He also employs the typical "what the fuck" Italian hand motion: touch your thumb to your middle finger and then wave your hand toward and away from your chest. For more emphases use two hands. For even more, take the hands up to move behind and in front of your head.
By the end of the match there is a pile of wooden shavings heaped neatly on our table.
I wish I had brought my camera.
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