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Here they are. My fantasy football teammates.
Nicola, university researcher, the only married one of the group.
Gianni, future groom, and my lifelong best friend.
Federico, successful lawyer.
Me, a young screenwriter, and already a failure.
Francesco, the bald hikikomori.
And Jacopo,
a self-employed freelancer, with no VAT number.
Come on, guys. First to ten.
-Go! -Go! To ten!
-To ten, guys. -Ten goals?
Ten? Guys, let's be serious. I have a daughter.
Let's look each other dead in the eyes.
He's getting married tomorrow.
-He's got gonorrhea. -That was confidential!
Don't even get me started on him.
He's been unemployed for two years. You're pregnant.
I mean, we don't have the same energy as we used to.
So what do we do?
So I'd say if we can get to three…
If we get to three…
That's gravy, like your mom says when she sweats.
No, you can't say that. No, no, no, I'm not joking.
I'm not joking.
Perhaps I should remind you that in April 2014…
You remember that?
We agreed that you wouldn't insult my mom for ten years.
Isn't that right? Why the fuck are you laughing?
Counselor, despite your famed eye for detail, you've overlooked something.
What day is it? What year is it?
April, two thousand and…
No! You pieces of shit!
I can't believe it. You guys are real bastards!
Wait, let me get this straight.
You all set a reminder…
-No. -A reminder…
And you waited for this exact moment to insult my mother?
Federico!
I'd wait another ten years
just to say that your mother is a fucking slut.
We were making mom jokes the day of Gianni's bachelor party.
Olé!
But… things took a bit of a wrong turn.
THE NEXT DAY
Good morning, my love.
You and me getting married. Who would've thought?
Gianni, we cleaned up the house, buddy.
We only left a few things in the garden. Where are you?
Come on!
Hurry!
Gianni? Hey, buddy, where are you?
We're heading to the church right now. Is everything all right?
Come on, girls!
Come on, run!
INCOMING CALL - MY LOVE MOST RECENT CALL
Did you message him?
The groom hasn't arrived yet.
He isn't here yet.
Why didn't he say anything?
What happened?
Honey, listen, I don't mean to hurry you,
take your time, it's not like it's the most important day of our life,
but meanwhile, would you kindly tell me where the fuck you are?
I told you.
-Mom. -Is he here yet?
Where's Gianni?
-Have you heard from him? -He's coming.
-Get up. -Come on, get up.
-Hey! -Don't say anything.
Don't say anything, don't say anything.
-You're hurting me! -Move!
You're hurting me!
Federico!
-Where are you taking them? -Go.
Federico!
Guys!
Federì!
What did you do to him?
Simone?
FANTASY FOOTBALL RUINED OUR LIVES
Good afternoon.
-And this is your lawyer? -Yes.
Federico Leone,
from the law firm…
Leone.
It's a real honor to meet you.
Way to go--
Way to go, what?
I'm a highly esteemed professional.
"Highly esteemed professional," are you aware you have a penis…
Yes.
…painted on your neck, counselor?
Yes.
How big is it?
Average.
Why didn't you tell me?
We all agreed it was too funny.
Rizzo, let's get started.
So, Mr. Pascale,
it has come to our attention that you and your friends
were the last known individuals to see Gianni Martini alive.
-Alive? -Alive? What?
The night of his bachelor party.
Last night.
We'd normally wait before starting an investigation,
but we have reason to believe something happened to him.
Something really bad.
Wait, is this…
Blood.
Gianni Martini's blood.
And you…
are one of the suspects.
You're kidding, I hope.
-So? -What do you want me to say?
He's my best friend. I'd never hurt him.
Really?
That's funny.
Because the group chat of your Fantasy Football League
shows that you've threatened to kill him a number of times…
One hundred fifty-two.
One hundred fifty-two times.
Thanks, Rizzo. And that's just this year.
Come on. It must have happened to you too, to threaten someone in a group chat…
No. That's a serious crime.
Please, tell us.
Is there anything you'd like to say about last night?
You'd better cooperate, for your own good. Tell him, counselor.
I can't remember anything!
Of course not.
Typical, isn't it?
They walk in, and poof! They forget everything.
-Yeah, typical! -Typical what? Whose side are you on?
-I can't remember anything. -Thanks, Morabito.
You're welcome.
What about her? Do you remember her?
What's this got to do with Andrea?
How did you meet her?
Well, it's a long story.
Make it short then.
If you ask me, I blame it all on Dybala.
On the what?
The Dybala. The…
-D for Dybala. Bala. -Dybala.
-Who? -Dybala, the footballer.
It was the end of August,
and we were all set for our fantasy football auction.
Let's move on to the latest football transfer news.
Joining us today is Riccardo Gentile. Good morning.
Good morning!
Riccardo, you're not usually the one covering transfer news,
but word is you've got a bombshell for us. True?
Yes, but you might not be happy about it.
Paulo Dybala has just signed with Lazio.
-What? -What the fuck?
-President Lotito paid the buy-out clause. -No.
-It's not possible. -No. What the fuck?
-That Lotito paid the buy-out clause? -That Dybala's going to Lazio.
-Fuck! -This is breaking news.
The phone lines are going to blow up. What's happening?
-Is he crazy? -He's signed a three-year contract.
-There will be a press conference. -Stop!
It will be in Piazza della Libertà.
-They'll announce… -Stop!
What will they announce, Riccardo?
It's just a prank, guys.
You almost gave me a heart attack!
-Now, a word from our sponsor… -Watch out! It's coming down!
…the Awakening Medical Center…
CHAPTER 1 A DECENT EIGHTH
8 MONTHS EARLIER
-It's a huge loss. -Thanks.
-My condolences. -Thank you.
Riccardo…
I bid one credit on Pellegrini.
Aren't you going to raise me on the captain?
He's also a penalty taker.
He's really dead.
Unbelievable.
I mean, to die like that at 35. He had his whole life ahead of him.
And a baby coming.
A week before the auction draft…
-Honey, please. Stop it. -What did I say?
-Condolences. -You brought her to a funeral?
Here, no one will complain if she cries. Condolences.
She's not crying.
Because she didn't know him well. She wasn't close to him.
Guys, what about the auction draft?
-Is now really the time for this? -It always is.
-Really? -Yes.
August 30th. Of all days to die…
Couldn't you have died two months ago? It'd have been better.
-We'd have planned things. -Sorry. They're still very upset.
I can't believe it.
Only total outcasts skip fantasy football in August.
-Old people-- -Yeah.
-…priests, women, children… -Can you hear me? Why didn't you--
Sorry.
Francesco, look.
Pay your last respects to Riccardo.
Dybala's mine, you piece of shit! Let me see him!
No. The person in there is still our friend.
-Your friend. -Nothing we can do to save him now.
But we can save our Fantasy League.
Did he really say that?
In front of the deceased's family?
You guys are crazy.
No, trust me. Finding a decent eighth for a Fantasy Football League is hard.
That's why we launched
the biggest fantasy football selection process in the game's history.
Christopher Columbus is famous for discovering America,
but mostly for being the agent of…
Who scored the most goals in his second Serie A season…
The Serie A unbeaten streak record for a goalkeeper? I'll give you a hint…
The first Italian footballer to receive the Ballon d'Or?
Who was Ancona's left-back in the 2003-2004 season?
Gigi Sartor, 166 Serie A appearances.
Three consecutive UEFA Cups, all with Italian teams.
Two of which, with Inter in 1997-98, and with Parma in 1998-99.
A record he shares with two other players.
The Colombian Radamel "El Tigre" Falcao and the German Marko Marin,
also remembered for his brief, unlucky stint at Fiorentina.
Unlucky?
Unlucky, yes.
-You know a lot. -Thank you.
Maybe too much.
He was the goalkeeper…
Get the fuck out.
You're a scumbag.
Catania FC's forwards, season 2006-2007, were Corona, Mascara, and…?
Corona, Mascara…
Come on, this one's easy.
Corona, Mascara, and Martuccello!
-Left wing. -Are you serious?
Thank you. We'll let you know.
And before…
Martuccello!
Next!
-The entire lineup. -I don't remember the whole…
The one in 2007.
-Hi. -Hi.
Hi. Can I… Can I help you?
-Spinesi. It was Gionatha Spinesi. No "N." -Would you accept a 19 score?
You said no, so see you at the next session. Thanks.
Bye.
Spinesi, Catania's striker?
The one playing with Mascara and Corona?
No. The answer was Spinoza…
In his Ethics, he states that the supreme good is…
Then, I must be wrong. I'm in the wrong room.
Totti's first goal in Serie A. This is easy.
But sorry. Aren't you selecting the eighth fantasy football participant here?
No.
Yes, it's here.
The golden rule is that if a woman asks if you play fantasy football,
always say no. There.
Why? I like people who play fantasy football.
You always have something to talk about.
Right?
Have a seat.
Thanks.
But you can't ask me this.
-Over there? -Yes.
Tell me Inter's top goalscorer in 2007 and 2008.
Anyway, I'm Simone.
Andrea.
-So, Andrea-- Can I call you by your name? -Sure.
Why do you want to play fantasy football?
To pin all my hopes for happiness
on a fantasy game I have basically no control over?
Great answer.
And why with strangers? Don't you have friends to play with?
I've just come back to Rome.
I see.
I tried to join my old league again, but they didn't want me.
What bastards. Why?
Not that I'm not happy-- I mean, why?
I rigged a game.
Ah.
The Footgate Scandal.
My opponent wanted a picture of my feet to let me win.
I was willing to do anything, but he was only interested in that.
But you have a bunion.
Well, he liked it.
I do too.
You realize these are things
you should never say in an interview like this?
I know, but it felt wrong to start off with a lie.
I'm not sure the others would want you in the league.
Please.
It'll be our little secret.
I miss fantasy football so much.
I miss waking up in the morning smelling death threats in the group chat.
I miss Sunday afternoons spent hoping for any scrub to get a 6.5 rating.
-Okay. I get it. -Sorry.
I'm sorry.
Please.
Just give me a chance.
Should I?
Gentlemen, it's the moment of truth.
We have two candidates.
Candidate number one, him. Mirko.
An immense knowledge of football. Reliability.
Potential red flags,
he posts pretty disturbing memes on his socials every day.
Like this one.
-No! Take it off. -Oh, my God!
Can you imagine seeing stuff like that every day in our group chat?
Not to mention, he might kill us all in our sleep.
-He looks nice. -No, no, no, no.
-He's a serial killer. -A nice one.
Calm down. Calm down, please.
Candidate number two, Andrea.
Are you out of your mind?
Come on, but--
She's a woman.
Guys, listen. Let's be serious for a moment.
I'm really sensitive about diversity, and you know that.
I stand by gender quotas and disability rights…
-Have I ever judged you for being a homo? -No.
Exactly. But please, I beg you.
-I have a wife at home… -Ninni?
-My daughter… -Darling?
My mother-in-law visits three weeks a month.
-Sweetheart… -Not another woman at fantasy football.
I know. Come on.
It's not my fault he has a wife, a daughter,
and a mother-in-law three weeks a month.
-Look what you've done. -Don't worry.
No, no, no.
Cómo? Cómo? You, of all people, Simone?
Are you fucking kidding?
He's using what we hold most sacred just to get laid.
No, no, no! Wait. Let's look at it from another perspective.
We're facing the same dilemma as American voters.
Choosing between a psychopath
and a woman.
I don't want more women.
The committee has reached a verdict!
Music!
One, two, three, four!
Andrea!
Yes!
I'm sorry. I've never won anything.
Congratulations.
Thank you.
LOOKING FOR AN EIGHTH PARTICIPANT
THE PUSHER - LECCE BOMBO
THE GROOM - PARTIZAN DEGRADE
THE SCRIPTWRITER - SOFA KYIV
THE LAWYER - AVELLINO BANFI
THE HUSBAND - PARIS SAINT GENNARO THE HIKIKOMORI - TEAM SHAME
ZERO JOY
FANTASY FOOTBALL LEAGUE
THE CORPSE - CARDBORDEAUX - RIP
THE FEMALE - QUOTALANTA
I've got three degrees,
and I didn't understand a single word you said.
Will someone kindly explain to me what this fantasy football is?
You're right, Your Honor. I love fantasy football with all my heart,
but it's hard to explain what it is.
Exactly, guys.
Fantasy football is a bit like sex.
It's complicated, hard to explain, yet it's great fun to play.
It's a game where contestants form a league of eight or ten people
and set up completely fictitious teams,
but with real first-division footballers bought in an auction draft.
And I forgot.
Contestants have a pre-established number of credits to buy their players.
And it doesn't stop here.
To win, you must score more goals than your opponents.
But how do you score a goal in fantasy football?
The team total is the sum of each player's ratings,
including bonuses and deductions for goals, bookings, send-offs, and more.
The sum determines your goal count based on set ranges.
Sixty-six. Remember this number because you'll need 66 points
to score your first goal, while 72 points--
Enough!
Why are there boobs on our cup?
They're Gianni's ex-girlfriend's. The one from high school, right?
Yes, but those aren't boobs.
Those are boobs. And big ones too.
Yes, but they're rather a symbol. Am I right?
Yes, sure.
That faded, time-worn photo stands as the perfect trophy for this game.
A game about the fantasy of owning a football team while still being 18.
A fantasy of still being at the apex, at the top,
like those tits when they were in their prime!
Masterful.
I'm not convinced.
-Shall we start? -Shut up.
CHAPTER 2 - THE AUCTION DRAFT 7 MONTHS EARLIER
Dale, dale, dale, dale, dale, dale, Boca!
Guys!
Dale, dale, dale, dale, dale, dale, Boca!
The auction draft begins at 1:41 p.m.
Per the rules, the first pick goes to the sucker
who got last place last season. Go.
Before we start, I'd like to raise a point.
Can we lower the participation fee? €200 is too much.
-You piece of shit. -Wait, you're telling me this?
I have a daughter.
I'm out of a job, and I'm broke.
-Fuck you! -He's got a child!
-I can't say anything! -You're a piece of shit!
Mr. Pascale, please. We may still have a chance to find him.
You're right, Your Honor.
But if you want to find out what happened to Gianni, you have to listen to me.
Because we live exactly like we play.
I nominate…
Come on, just say it.
Pavoletti!
-A business call. -Go.
-Of course.
Yes, honey.
Do not buy Pavoletti.
Sweetheart, how do you know we've just nominated him?
I can read your mind.
Do not buy him, okay?
Honey, you're underestimating my football expertise.
Above all, you're not considering that this is Pavoletti's year.
You're underestimating him. Listen…
I don't want my daughter's father to be a loser.
What's with that now?
-If you buy him, you'll sleep in the car. -No--
Up yours!
Nicola, Paris Saint Gennaro's president,
is such a creature of habit,
he's been buying the same players for ten years, no matter what anyone says.
I bid 70 on Pavoletti.
-Yeah! -Yes!
Well done!
Eighty!
Eighty! Let's go!
-No! -He said it!
-I didn't!
-Yes, I did say 80! -You said 80!
Pavoletti's mine!
Then there's Federico.
Like any good lawyer, he wants everything done by the book.
Well, by his book.
-Eighty-two! -No!
No. Wait a second, sweetie.
According to clause B of rule 87, dated December 31st, 2017,
bids must be raised at least 0.2 seconds before sold.
So Zapata's mine, you little shit!
You bitch.
I might be a bitch, but Zapata is mine. Shall we move on?
Eighty-one!
Then there's Francesco. He never leaves his room.
-Does he live abroad? -What? No.
He lives 300 meters away.
Eighty-seven.
Why didn't he come?
Because he's like a hikikomori.
He's been in his bedroom for six years.
It goes to Francesco!
Yeah!
Pieces of shit!
Bastard.
Who the hell is this now?
Fabrizio Seghetti,
lives in Milan but returns to Rome for the auction.
Silent in the chat, first to submit his lineup on Wednesdays.
Does he play a part in the story?
No.
-Thirty-two! -Thirty-four!
-You hit me! -I'm sorry!
Forty-four!
Forty-two!
Shut up!
That's mine!
I said it! Pavišić is mine!
Then there's Jacopo.
He's well into his thirties,
but he does everything to avoid thinking about it…
or should I say thinking at all.
Fresh out of the Maghrebi's ass. Want some?
No. You're risking four years in prison. No house arrest.
-Twenty on Rincón! -Hey.
He's not playing in Serie A anymore.
Who cares?
I've already signed Ionita. I need him to form the duo Rincón-Ionita!
Rincón-Ionita, like the word rincoglionita, which means dumbass.
I'll go pee.
-I'll come with you. -Twenty on Rincón.
Going once, going twice. Sold.
Twenty, Rincón.
Then there's me,
president of Sofa Kyiv,
because I've been sleeping on a sofa for 15 years.
Simone, please. Nominate one player. I beg you.
I have to go to the vet.
It's called "pediatrician."
That's right.
I bid 30 on Iličić!
-Cómo? Cómo? Cómo? -Are you sure about that?
-He is-- -He'll be out--
Yes, I know. I know.
But I can't desert him in a moment of need.
No! Back off!
Back off!
-21! -22!
-23. -24.
-25! -You don't have enough credits.
Count them.
Twenty-four going once, going twice, sold.
He's mine.
-Well done. -Cheater.
-I need to make a phone call. -Go.
Then there's Andrea.
The more I looked at her, the more I discovered something new.
-Thirty on Berardi. -No, 31!
-Thirty-two! -Berardi's mine!
And then there's Gianni, my lifelong best friend.
He'll do anything to win.
It's still 1-0.
A well-earned closeup of the game's standout player.
He hasn't just scored, he's putting on a stellar performance,
leading his teammates…
Pier, tone it down, or he'll get a 7.
-He'll get a 7.5. -Really, 7.5?
He will. I put him on my team.
The ball goes out…
Your Honor,
that's not everything.
Really?
Excuse me, how much is it?
No, Mr. Orsato. That's on me.
Daniele.
Today's an important day for me. I'm three points behind.
A beer for a yellow card for Petagna.
Or better, a red card for Petagna.
Are you trying to bribe me with a beer?
Guys, please.
It was a joke.
The police. If I can be of any help…
I have no criminal record…
How much is it?
He's won for six consecutive years.
Twenty-two.
-Twenty-three. -Twenty-four.
-Twenty-- -Frà, aren't you raising? He's not.
He's won for six consecutive years, so you're jealous.
No. Like I said, we've been best friends since childhood and even lived together.
Okay, 24 going once, going twice, sold. He's mine.
-Ninni, will you stop, please? -Why did you sign me up on Grindr?
-Because it's funny. -No, it's not.
I'm gonna beat the shit out of you. Get out of my face.
Fuck you.
You don't act like friends.
You do and say horrible things to each other.
That's exactly the point.
We all have normal lives, normal jobs.
Yet, we're not normal people.
Fantasy football is where we pour our hopes of winning,
in this life where we usually lose,
and roast each other's moms and anal virginity while we're at it.
With our friends, we can be who we really are.
Horrible people.
Oh, great.
Andrea? Wait, I'll drive you home.
Hurry up then.
-Bye. -Bye.
Rincón-Ionita!
You bought Pavoletti, didn't you?
You'll sleep in the car then.
Turn the heat on. It's cold outside.
You're absolutely right, Assunta. Good night.
Excuse me.
Hello, my little bean. Yes, I'm on my way. Bye.
There's no room for you on the couch. Good night.
Are we going or not?
So the whole story's based on the premise that human beings have won a great war
against zombies, okay? And…
Do you think it's stupid?
-No, no. Go on. -Okay.
Basically, they've given them all the most boring jobs,
I don't know, like, working as cashiers.
Or more dangerous ones, like stuntmen.
Why stuntmen? If you think about it, it's clever.
I mean, zombies don't need a union, craft service, and best of all…
they can't die.
I think it's time we went home.
Actually, how about you come to my place
to eat a delicious veggie pizza with KAMUT flour and peppers?
You mean today?
No.
Maybe we better not. No.
It's actually… a little late.
I asked her if she meant today.
I'm a dumbass.
-Good morning. -Good morning.
Tell me you got laid, at least.
Obviously, you didn't.
But if it's any consolation, I think I'm in love.
So basically, you made two mistakes in one night.
You're a champ.
Do you owe Mr. Martini any money?
Because, apparently, you crashed on his couch without paying rent.
No, no, no. This is the right of adverse possession, Your Honor.
Note that, Rizzo.
What are you doing?
-Who have I bought as a forward this year? -Lautaro Martínez.
And last year?
Always Lautaro Martínez.
And I'll buy him next year too.
Because even though I can't stand him, he's a solid bet.
And I hate risks.
And so…
I'm getting married after this season.
You're getting married?
When did you propose?
Do you want to know?
I acted on impulse.
It all started with an innocent question from Bianca.
Do you want to have kids?
With me, I mean.
I've thought it through, and even did the math.
I mean, factoring in how long it'd take to find a decent guy,
and preferably with hair, but I can lower the bar here, and…
Also, considering the time it would take me
to convince him to rethink his space to-- to-- to--
Yes, yes.
…to have children,
well, I think that…
if you…
Oh, yes!
If you don't want to have kids,
then we…
we should split up,
but not…
not now!
We should split up two years ago!
Sweetheart, what are you talking about?
Let's get married then.
We'll see.
Get down now and start again.
"We'll see"? Did she really say that?
-She said "we'll see"! -No!
Of course she said that.
She said "we'll see," and that she'll move here.
No, come on, Gianni!
There isn't enough room here, and the bathroom is too small.
CHAPTER 3 THE OPENING DAY OF THE SEASON
6 MONTHS EARLIER
So I had to collect all my stuff.
Not that I had much.
Some books, a photo of me and Gianni in Mykonos at 18.
So technically speaking, Mr. Martini kicked you out.
Objection. Leading question.
Let me rephrase it.
So you left Mr. Martini's house of your own volition.
Yes. It was the opening day of our league.
I feel like Totti on the day he retired. For that guy, what's his name?
Too old to go on.
I'm sure he was freaking out about retiring.
No!
You're burning Benassi.
My beloved Benassi rug.
When did we last wash it?
Why, have we ever washed it?
Tell me, Your Honor,
without a house or a job,
where else was I supposed to go but my grandmother's?
With yet another sofa waiting for me.
The TV series La Nostra Vita…
As usual, Grandma was great company.
Yet, between one TV series and another…
Hi. I've read on the group chat that everybody's at the pub.
I'm already out and nearby. Why don't you come join me?
What's love for you, Your Honor?
Mr. Pascale, let's not be silly, please.
I know it's a silly question.
Every definition we give is an approximation.
To quote those lines from Pulp Fiction, "You know you've found somebody special
when you can just shut the fuck up for a minute
and comfortably share silence."
Personally, I'd say,
"You know you've found somebody special when you're watching Lecce-Spezia,
it's 0-0, you have no players on the pitch,
and yet your heart is pounding."
Exciting game.
…in the first half, Spezia…
What?
It's halftime, Simone.
Halftime, and it's 0-0…
Yeah, I was referring to the first half.
Like we were saying,
they needed more physicality in the middle of the box…
Guys, tell me if this isn't the weirdest dick pic you've ever seen.
Oh, my God.
What is it? A penis with a cowboy hat?
Hi, everyone!
He did some good things…
Hi.
Hi, chief!
Hi, sweetheart!
A beer, please.
-Coming. -Make it two.
My wife's coming soon. I want to be drunk by then, damn it!
I'll get another one.
Get one for her too.
So Daddy can have that one too, yes?
Pavoletti!
Pavoletti just scored!
Good girl! Pavoletti just scored!
Honey? Honey.
I'm going to buy a new rug. The one we have now looks awful.
Benassi?
The green one, yes.
Sweetheart, Benassi is the last stronghold of incivility I have left.
In your house, darling.
In our house, you're the last stronghold of incivility.
Did someone say "Benassi"?
Oh, Simone! Hi. Happy birthday! How old are you this time?
Well, 34.
Just 34?
Good. You turned 34 three times in the last six months, so…
No, but this time, it's true.
-"True." Good. -Exactly.
-Just white lies, honey. -Yes, honey.
If you lie to me to spend time with him, that's your problem, not mine.
That's why I love her. I love you.
-Me too. -I love you.
-Have fun. -I love you.
-Bye. -Bye. Thanks.
-Have fun. -I love you.
-Back me up. -You should have texted me.
-How do I know? I can't just… -Are you already drunk? Yes, you are!
Come on, Daddy needs a sweet brace. You have to cry again.
Hey, listen to me.
You have to cry, or I'll let you stew in your own poo until tomorrow. Got it?
Come on, cry!
Hiding in a public toilet instead of trying to kiss her?
Get out there and give it a shot.
Forget it. She's even beating me at fantasy football. That's not manly.
Blah, blah, blah…
"That's not manly."
"She's beating me at fantasy football. I'm struggling with act two."
You write excuses, not movies. What the fuck is act two anyway?
It's where the character faces a crisis. What the fuck do you want from me?
I care about you. You could do anything you wanted, but never do.
You're like…
You're like Cassano.
You mean a misunderstood talent who says "chapeau" way too much?
A genius, yes. Misunderstood? Maybe.
Had he been more committed, he'd have won the Ballon d'Or.
So I say, "Antonio, why didn't you try harder? Why?"
It's all happening. Stay right there…
-No, I can't do it. -Why not?
Because I can keep dreaming about her now.
Until I make a move, she can still be the one.
But if I kiss her, and she turns me down?
Or what if, two years from now,
while brushing my teeth, she says she doesn't love me anymore?
The cat would be dead either way. That's Schrödinger's kiss.
I'm going to blow that box up.
Stop being Cassano. Be like Fabio Grosso in the World Cup.
What would Fabio Grosso do?
He'd get out there and kiss her.
Yes. And then he'd celebrate like crazy.
Yeah!
You're right. I'll go for it.
Yeah, and you'll be back quickly…
Let's go pick up the pieces.
Pavoletti's there!
And he scores!
Pavoletti!
Because I always start my brace-scorers.
Unbelievable!
An incredible finish to this match!
I need to tell you something.
…and Pavoletti was there ready.
It's chaos! There is confusion…
I think you've won this week's game. Bye.
So the only thing that's clear about this long,
painfully detailed, wordy account,
is that you're desperately in love with Ms. Carrieri.
That's pretty obvious. What I'm still missing though…
is what…
What does Andrea have to do with Mr. Martini's disappearance?
-Andrea is the motive. -The motive for what?
For you murdering Gianni Martini.
No, I won't allow this. We've been chatting and all.
I've got this.
You can't accuse my client just like that, with no proof. Where's the evidence?
Well… the murder weapon. Do you recognize it, Mr. Pascale?
The only fingerprints found on this cup…
belong to you.
And do you see those traces of blood?
According to the police forensics report, it's Gianni Martini's blood.
Well?
Mr. Pascale, will you tell us what happened last night?
What do you want me to say? I can't remember anything!
I think I would, if I had killed my best friend.
I'm sorry.
Federico, say something.
Federico?
It wasn't me!
Let's take a break. Take a walk.
Maybe your memory will come back. Morabito, show him out.
I'll have a chat with their female friend.
Shall we go?
Wait, Andrea's here?
Let's go now.
Bring in Ms. Carrieri.
Federico, can you come with me?
-What the fuck did you do to him? -I didn't do shit!
Tell me what you did to him!
-I didn't do anything. -Calm down.
Bianca, are you crazy?
I'll kill you.
You and those two!
-Sit down. -Have a seat.
What the fuck do you want?
I'll calm down.
You've also decided to rely on Counselor Leone's professionalism?
All right.
So, with your forgetful friend,
we were talking about September 12th, 2023.
The so-called "opening day of the season." Do you remember what happened that night?
Yes, Your Honor.
-Fuck! -What happened?
A pothole?
A car crash?
Simone!
-What happened this time? -Easy!
Was it a panic attack or a car crash?
-Elvira, how's your daughter? -Good, thanks.
-How often does he come here? -Very often.
Because he gets free meals.
What an idiot.
How long have you known Simone?
Since we were four.
We sat next to each other, from kindergarten to high school.
Nice.
Yes. Very.
I've never had a friend like that.
In the second year of high school, that nutcase burned the class register
just so he'd flunk with me.
-Really? -Yes. And he was top of the class.
I'd be lost without him.
I'm terrified, you know?
Really?
Yes.
I thought you were different.
Meaning?
You seemed like a guy who'd never admit to his fears.
-Well, don't tell anybody then. -No.
Look, I have a joint in my handbag.
What do you say?
You're so rock 'n' roll.
We're just chitchatting, come on.
It happened when I was 16.
In the volleyball changing rooms.
-Poetic. -With a girl from my class.
Wow!
What about you?
In Mykonos with Simone.
What? In Mykonos?
-No-- -See? I told you.
-Told me what? -Yeah. I knew it.
You knew what?
Oh, come on.
What?
I was in Mykonos with Simone. Then I met a girl.
I mean, I went with a girl who…
-Guys? -Yes?
You'd better go home. They're keeping him here.
Is he okay?
-Yes. He's fine. -Okay.
I live here. That's the door.
Okay.
Well, thank you.
-Good night. -Good night.
So he gave me a lift home, and then we said goodnight.
Is that all?
Yes, that's all.
Can you explain to me why at 3:47 a.m. that night you texted to Gianni Martini,
"We mustn't tell anyone"?
What was it exactly that you "mustn't tell anyone"?
Do you need a rug?
I won this at fantasy football.
It's called Benassi.
How long did the relationship with Gianni Martini last?
Until the international break.
Which in layman's terms is?
November. Until November.
That's when national teams play useless games and the league has to stop.
That means no fantasy football for two weeks.
During those 336 hours, you'd better not do anything.
Because if something can go wrong, it'll go even worse.
-Got it? -Yes.
It's like The Nothing spreading in The NeverEnding Story.
Got it?
November?
I'm sorry.
As you can see, it's new. No one's ever lived here.
There's also a nice garage and 24-hour surveillance.
Plus, here you can enjoy peace.
And silence.
She's right.
Do we really need all this peace?
Yes.
Don't we?
Yes.
Nice.
CHAPTER 4 - THE INTERNATIONAL BREAK 5 MONTHS EARLIER
Hey, do you remember the Master League?
Those were the times of Castolo and Minanda.
Who the fuck is Castoro?
It's "Castolo."
The Master League's best striker in Pro Evolution Soccer.
I'm sorry, how old are you?
I'm 20.
How old are you?
Well, I'm not 20 anymore.
I'm 34.
Will you tell me what's wrong? What's going on?
Nothing, Grandma. I'm going through a rough patch.
It gets dark at 4:00 p.m.,
I don't work much, and I have to wear a cast.
A cast?
You're the first person I know who, with a 30-day prognosis,
keeps the cast on for two months.
-What are you doing? -I'll take it off.
-No, no. -Yes, yes.
So you can meet that beautiful girl you've been crying over for two months.
And you can leave me alone.
-Give me your arm. -No.
You're so depressing, Simone.
I'm an old lady. I have arthrosis. Give me your arm, come on.
-Stay still. -Grandma!
Thank you.
You know I'm having a boy, right?
Nope.
Yes.
I'm sorry. It's just been a shitty time.
I'm not myself.
-What's wrong? -Andrea, are you okay?
I've been to hundreds of job interviews this month.
It's always the same.
Someone much younger than me says they'll let me know,
which is just a polite way of telling me to fuck off.
Yes.
I really don't know what's wrong with me.
I speak four languages. I mean, I've got a lot of experience.
-I don't-- -Andrea?
Can I be honest with you? Can I?
You're 35, and you never finished uni.
Your CV looks like that of a 20-year-old with horror vacui.
That's why.
I'm sorry.
-Excuse me? -Yes?
-Can I have two more, please? -Sure.
-Are you having anything? -No.
Are you pregnant?
-What the fuck is she saying? -No, gosh.
Oh, thank God!
-When did they get back from holiday? -Three months ago.
-Yes.
I can't believe you're taking us camping. In this cold!
Honey, I told you a thousand times. I'm a PhD researcher. Money is scarce.
Nicola, you need to get a proper job.
A real man doesn't take his family camping on holiday.
And in low season, in November.
You're 30 years old! Do you get it or not?
And you're a pain in the ass. Do you get it or not?
And I really mean it!
"Do this, do that, don't buy Pavoletti!"
I'm a PhD researcher who grew up during a recession.
A permanent job is like Santa Claus for us!
It doesn't exist!
Is that clear?
Yes, sweetheart! I told you, Santa Claus isn't real!
You know those families who enjoy being together?
And doing things together?
-They fake it. -They fake it.
Why can't we even just fake it then?
Don't worry, I do fake it.
I do.
Let's go.
Simone?
Hi.
I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd just…
You know, Baggio once said,
"Only those who have the courage to take a penalty can miss it."
So…
would you like to have dinner with me?
Right now?
Oh, you're with someone.
Okay, then. We'll…
Have a nice evening. See you, bye.
That was when we decided to end our relationship.
Not even Atreyu can stop The Nothing spreading, let alone us.
Listen… has Mr. Pascale ever found out about your relationship?
Well? Yes or no?
I decided to tell him during the transfer market window.
Oh, my God. What's that now?
The transfer market window is the last chance
we have to make up for our mistakes.
So I thought it was the right time to tell Simone the truth.
CHAPTER 5 - TRANSFER MARKET WINDOW
Mr. Pascale.
3 MONTHS EARLIER
Guys, where the fuck shall we meet for the transfer market window?
Guys, for the market transfer window, you're all invited to my new residence.
You left your wife to live in a garage?
Yes. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.
-Hi. -Hi.
What? You wanted to leave her for ten years.
-I'm a PhD researcher, a temporary worker… -Shall we start?
I was programmed not to have any long-term plans.
-Where's Simone? -He'll join us after work.
What work?
The supermarket. He's got a proper job now.
-Enough chit-chat. -Yes.
The auction draft begins at 6:24 p.m.
I've brought some snacks, my friends.
This new job's great.
We get to take home nearly expired food.
What are you doing? Back off. Everyone, back off.
-Come on. -Nicola!
Just hold on a sec. Here you are.
-It's sweet. Ew! I want something savory. -Any croissants?
Nope. My boss, Abdul, gets the croissants.
He's strict but an inspiring worker.
Listen, "strict but inspiring," any player you'd like to release?
Yes. After giving much thought to this with Abdul, I've decided to release…
Paulo Dybala.
-Cómo? Cómo? Cómo? -Cómo? Cómo? Cómo?
This is easy prey play.
Simone, if you're on drugs, give me some.
No, guys. I've never been more sober.
I've realized what matters in life is
avoiding relegation and having a steady job.
I used to dream too big.
Dybala's like a beautiful woman who always has a headache.
I need someone who plays all the games.
Even if that means getting gluteal injections.
And then still pulls a six rating any given Sunday.
So after releasing Dybala, I'm buying…
Tony Sanabria.
-No! -Go at it!
-Perfect! Ten on Dybala. -Eleven.
-Twelve. -Thirteen.
-Fourteen. -Fifteen.
Twenty-one!
You must be happy you've got a job at your favorite place.
Yes, I'm "assistant store manager
in the soaps, detergents, and more" section.
I still haven't memorized it.
-Forty-four! -Forty-five!
-Forty-eight! -Forty-nine!
Fifty!
Dybala's mine, you bastard!
Fifty-one.
I don't have any more credits.
Listen, there's something I really need to tell you.
Well, I don't have to, but it's important to me.
Fire away.
You really screwed up by releasing Dybala.
Paulo Dybala!
I knew it. Gianni, stop it!
So let me get this straight.
I asked you if Mr. Pascale knew about your relationship with Mr. Martini.
And you…
told me this really long story
about someone who lives in a garage,
only to then tell me,
"No, I didn't tell him"?
Rizzo? Bring all those other idiots in. I want all of them here.
I need a detailed account of the last day Gianni Martini was seen alive.
And I need it now.
CHAPTER 6 - FINAL ROUND OF THE LEAGUE THE DAY BEFORE
I had to take an exam at the university.
And I decided, I don't know…
Come on, go! Go, go.
-Come on. You keep getting me presents. -That time has come.
You shouldn't have.
As your best man, I thought a lot about what to get you.
Also because…
You're broke. This is empty.
Open it.
-What's in it, Paolo Montero's head? -Open it.
No!
You and me in Mykonos.
What memories. Look at this.
We were 18.
I was really handsome.
You were already ugly, but you didn't owe anyone money yet.
I made the worst lineup I could for our head-to-head match.
See, I put the Empoli goalkeeper against Inter.
Lookman's last on the bench. Even if everyone dies, he's not coming in.
Basically…
I made you win. The entire league.
That means you'll come in last.
What's new about that?
I'm cheating without actually cheating.
Wonderful.
This is the noblest thing anyone's ever done for me.
I know.
You are my brother.
Enough with the bullshit. Come on, hurry up!
What's with all the fucking hugs?
I'll get changed, and I'll kick your ass.
-A header! -Chest control!
A football match was all we needed.
There were no padel courts.
It's a foul!
Nice move, Nicola.
Go, Simone.
Damn it!
Goal!
The ball!
Oh, my God!
No!
Gosh, no!
Goal!
Good one!
Guys? Shall we make it a draw?
It's a draw.
I'm so fucking good!
To Gianni!
Now we have a little surprise.
A little surprise.
-How about that? -Yes.
-A surprise! -Come on.
Olé!
Bravo!
I swear if my daughter becomes like them…
Let's hope so.
Bravo!
I love you!
Bravo!
Guys, who's the groom here?
-I am! -Me!
Me!
You're all lying.
I am the groom.
-Can I help you? -Of course.
Oh, God, yes. Do what you want with me.
So, my dear groom.
Alexa, stop the music.
Alexa?
-I'm Nina. -I know. Nina Guarino.
-Gosh, another stalker. -No.
We were in class together. Fourth B at Montessori.
Francesco Formisano!
No way!
You were top in our class. What happened?
I graduated in Cultural Heritage Preservation.
-Who gives a shit? -Stop it!
It's a short step from there.
And what happened to you?
It's a long story.
Well, tell me.
-Who's this guy? -Who knows.
-Can we have a drink? -I hope so.
-What the fuck just happened? -No idea.
Hey, Jacopo.
What's wrong?
This thing made me sad.
I know. Stripteases are always a little sad.
Yes, but I've never gotten hard and sad at the same time.
Wait, have you got an erection?
Stop staring at me then and go fuck yourself!
-I am the groom, by the way. -The asshole.
-Nice to meet you. -Gianni, I was joking!
Guys! My best friends!
Jacopo's got a little surprise for you!
Ta-da!
Apricots?
Are you stupid?
Bringing apricots here? My body can't take it anymore.
The last time for me was 12 years ago on our Interrail trip to Amsterdam.
When we saw Jesus Christ in Voldenpark?
-It's "Vondelpark." -I was stoned as shit.
Yes, they are the same ones.
From 12 years ago. I was saving them for a special occasion.
Why didn't you bring them to my bachelor party then?
I said "a special occasion," Nicola.
We went bowling.
That's the only sport I'm good at.
Who wants some?
-I do! -I do!
"I do!" "I do!" What about you?
-We do! -We do!
Wait a second.
Those apricots you're talking about, they're magic mushrooms, right?
No! No, no, no.
No, no, they're just oyster mushrooms!
Rizzo, add "drug use" to the report.
They're not fucking kicking in, right?
-No! -Fuck, they're not!
Why don't we play the truth game?
Because that's not a game!
No shit!
Please, let's play! I beg you.
Okay, let's play.
-Let's play! -Let's play. Let's play!
Olé!
I locked myself in the house the day I was supposed to graduate
because I'd taken only two exams in seven years.
Olé!
I…
I think I'm going to stop using drugs.
You brought us half a kilo of mushrooms.
Starting tomorrow.
Good call.
Olé!
Oh, it's me. Okay.
So…
Well, I…
I've never told my parents…
I am…
I've never told my parents… I'm gay.
Now I'm scared to say it.
Because my dad's 72, has two pacemakers,
and it might just kill him.
I can tell him if you want.
Olé!
Okay, I miss my wife.
Sweetheart.
I even miss the deadly glare in her eyes when she threatens to kill me.
I was just joking!
I don't give a fuck about my wife!
Olé!
I cheated on Bianca.
Cómo? Cómo? Cómo? Cómo? Cómo?
Why didn't you tell me?
I was going to.
No, wait. Now we want to know everything. Who with, when, and where?
With a girl, some time ago. It was a stupid mistake.
Hold on.
I want to see this one again…
on the VAR.
Yes, I do.
Simone?
Hi.
Would you like to have dinner with me?
Right now?
Why didn't you tell him?
I was going to.
What's he doing?
I think he's watching his life on imaginary VAR footage.
He wants to do a revival!
Sorry for doubting you, drugs!
I'm a human lantern!
-He's burning! -I am a Chinese lantern!
Would you like to have dinner with me?
Right now?
What have you done, guys? Come on!
The Benassi rug was at Andrea's…
The Benassi rug was at Andrea's!
Hello?
Sweetheart. Yes.
Yes, I'm having fun.
Just a bachelor party.
No, there are no girls, honey. She's already getting on my nerves!
We're going to turn this fucking house into a barbecue!
Simone?
Listen, I need to tell you something.
Me too.
You go first.
You cheated on Bianca with Andrea.
I was a shitty friend, but…
please forgive me.
Simone. Simone, what are you doing? Are you crying?
Hey, Simone.
And then?
Your Honor, we have a--
And then you grabbed the cup.
Your fingerprints are on it, Mr. Pascale.
Then I must have grabbed it.
Simone?
Simone!
It's me.
You really are a loser.
You've never won me.
And you never will, let's face it.
No.
You don't have a face.
That's a figure of speech, Simone.
Tell me what happened.
You grabbed the cup and hit him, right?
-No, Your Honor, it's-- -Not now, Spataro.
At that moment, you hated him.
You just wanted payback for years of fantasy football losses.
Then there was the relationship with this young lady.
So you killed him. Right?
So your best friend fucked the woman you're in love with?
I may not be the Champions League trophy, but I know my stuff.
You will always lose.
Simone?
Is everything okay?
No.
Nothing is okay.
You'd better confess.
Just confess.
You'll feel better after that, Simone.
I wanted to hurt him.
Did you?
Tell the truth.
I've lost my best friend today.
I'll kill you, you piece of shit!
Well, I turned into an animal, Your Honor.
And I started hitting him as hard as I could, like a wild beast.
And then…
it all went black.
I think I blocked that out. It can happen, I guess.
Are you ready to confess now?
Yes.
Pay up.
I can't believe it. You're such jerks. Did you really bet on him being guilty?
I went all in on Francesco.
Why me?
Why you?
You leave your house after seven years, someone goes missing.
That's suspicious, to say the least.
-Stop it. -Your Honor, I think this is important.
-What is it? -We've found the control unit.
This is the footage from the CCTV.
Of course, it's important. Why didn't you tell me earlier? Let's see.
I've lost my best friend today.
I'll kill you, you piece of shit!
Wait, wait, wait.
Rizzo, what was it he said earlier?
"I started hitting him as hard as I could."
No, no, the other thing.
"Like a wild beast."
-Yes, a wild beast. -What are you doing?
What an idiot.
Wow, that must have hurt!
-He's alive. -Yes, he's alive.
He's alive!
-I told you not to confess. -He's alive.
And there's more.
-Is this when they fuck? -What?
In that case, you owe me more than €20.
Sweetheart.
Screw you!
No, no, no, no. Wait, wait, wait.
No!
Come on! Why only me?
Because you like them.
Is he writing something?
Look.
Mr. Pascale, please empty that pocket very slowly.
"As one of the great thinkers of our times once said,
'strong men, strong destinies.'"
What a jerk!
"Today, I've realized I'm not meant to get married,
have children, or live in a semi-detached house where…
it's so quiet that if you fart, your neighbors will buzz you in."
"With love, Gianni." Come on.
What a piece of shit!
-Oh, well. -Nice letter. Nice letter.
-Come on. -We just wasted our time.
-Fuck. -All right.
We could've been looking for Gianni. Let's go.
Morabito, can we have our coats back?
-Rizzo, are you on Tinder? -Stop it.
Simone? Simone, listen. It wasn't supposed to go like this.
Can we please not talk about it? Possibly ever again? Thanks.
I'm sorry, okay?
You're sorry? I should be sorry. My life was just perfect before I met you.
What? You spent 15 years sleeping on a couch.
Okay. It was rather awful, but I was fine.
Now, it's just awful, and that's because of you.
-Because of me? -Yes.
You know, you really are the champion of fantasy-assholes.
Because if you hadn't been the champion of fantasy-assholes,
you'd have come to my place to have that frozen pizza.
And I would've seen the face you make when you make love.
Luckily, you're the champion of fantasy-assholes.
I got that part.
And luckily, Gianni came to my place that night.
I mean, he had a huge expiry date printed on him, like a tourist visa.
I could've never fallen in love with him.
While you…
Fuck you, Simone.
Aren't you worried, guys?
About an asshole who ran away quoting Spalletti?
Seriously, aren't you worried?
Gianni always lands on his feet. He's probably in Bolivia by now.
-So you're not worried? -About what?
About the fact that Gianni is unreliable.
Mind you, his desire to escape is understandable.
A lot has been written about that.
In Praise of Flight by Henri Laborit…
Be quiet, please.
What I mean is how the fuck are we going to arrange a fantasy league next year?
-We're one short without Gianni. -I think Andrea--
Yoko Ono…
We're two short.
I'm going to kill myself.
-Three. -Guys, we can't do it.
-Guys, seriously. -Yes.
We have a problem.
It's raining. It's raining, it's raining!
One tequila.
Yes, I'm the bitch who got dumped at the altar.
Give me some tequila. Come on.
I see you.
You're pathetic.
Where's Simone?
-I was looking for-- -Your dignity, maybe?
If you came to insult me, I suggest we schedule for next week.
Yesterday wasn't my best day.
Oh, really?
Mine, on the other hand, was amazing.
It was wonderful.
I've never liked you, Simone. Never.
Never.
You always talk and never make any fucking sense.
Anyway, I'm not here to insult you.
That's not what it sounds like.
Tell me where the fuck he is.
Bianca, listen.
I'm sorry.
Poor little thing.
"Poor little thing"? Who's the poor little thing here?
You are!
I'm the one who should be sorry.
I could have fucked anyone.
I wasted ten years with a fucking asshole.
"Poor little thing."
Do you think…
Do you think I didn't have doubts?
That my life's goal and biggest dream was to get married,
buy a house in the middle of nowhere, and be stuck with a 30-year mortgage?
Huh?
Spending every single weekend next to an asshole
who goes on an app every ten seconds to check players' real-time ratings?
I don't even know why.
I'll tell you why.
That's because a half point more will release endorphins that--
He's just an asshole, okay?
Saying it's Simone's birthday and doing whatever the fuck he wants.
You're all so smart.
He's the poor one, running away at night like Capello.
Wow!
-Not bad. -Yes.
See?
After ten years with him, even I know who Capello is.
That's good.
Not bad, huh?
Where the fuck is he?
It's not fantasy football that brings you together. No.
-The thing is, you're all-- -Deserters.
We're a bunch of deserters…
who, by constantly running away from life, end up sleeping on a sofa for 15 years.
Without ever finishing anything,
whether it's… a zombie movie or a football game on the beach.
Tell me where the fuck he is!
Thank you.
What assholes.
I know where he is.
I need to go to a tanning salon,
or my wife won't believe I've been to Mykonos.
It's raining.
-Mykonos. -Smell the saltiness in the air.
Stony Mykonos.
It has a Copenhagen feel to it.
I'm already bored as fuck.
Come on, let's find Gianni.
Why, do you think he's here?
Are you stupid?
You need another seven years locked in your house.
I suffer from memory loss, but you're way worse.
Stay on the iPad.
Come on, let's go.
Do you know Gianni Martini?
What did you ask them?
It's Genoa's tournament.
Fiorentina is coming off a couple of matches
against Juventus and Viktoria Plzeň, where they dominated…
-He sent his lineup too? -Yes, his lineup too.
-Look at him. -Piece of shit.
Look, look.
And we thought he was dead.
…to a certain point, but they can't capitalize…
Gianni!
Guys.
How was the wedding?
Great. You forgot this, you piece of shit.
If you didn't like the appetizers, we can talk about it.
-Yes, let's talk. -Yes. Calmly.
Calmly.
-Right? -Yes, calmly.
-No tension. -No, no.
Do I look tense?
-I'm totally calm. -No.
No, let's talk about it. Let's talk!
We can talk about many things! We can.
Did you travel 3,000 km just to throw things at me?
It's 1,500, tops.
I had to steal a lot of money from Grandma.
Okay. Come on, listen. Give me one more chance!
Like you did with Balotelli.
When Brescia signed him, you gave him another chance.
I thought going back home would do him good!
Very close to the right post…
You bought Iličić again.
Leave Iličić out of this.
-When he was depressed. -Don't you dare mention Iličić!
Can you stop?
I'll say just one thing.
Mimmo Berardi.
Don't you dare mention Berardi!
-Buffon saved his penalty… -Don't blaspheme!
He made you lose the league with that missed penalty.
Enough. Calm down!
…and kicks it on the opposite side!
-Is he dead? -Unfortunately not.
-He's alive, the bastard! -You piece of shit!
Give me my weed back! Give me my weed back!
You're scum! You're scum! Scum!
I'm going to stay here.
What?
Yes. Listen, I ran away.
Who says you need a suit and a big city to have responsibilities?
I'll start making ouzo. I'll be fine here.
Why don't you move here with me?
We're good together.
Why do you think we were so happy when we came here as teenagers?
God, Simone, this is one of those questions only you can answer.
I don't know.
There was the sun, the sea, the girls… We were 20.
Girls? I mean, we always ended up watching them leave clubs with other guys.
And listing things we'd do when we grew up.
I haven't done any of those, by the way.
Simone?
Stop being Cassano. Be like Fabio Grosso.
You be like Fabio Grosso too, my friend.
3 MONTHS LATER END OF SEPTEMBER
-Come on, hurry up! -Come on!
Okay, let's start.
-Quick. -Go.
So…
The auction draft begins at 1:43 p.m.
As per the rules, the sucker that came last makes the first pick…
Iannis!
With a 50-point penalty, he ended up in last place.
Sucker!
Music, please!
One, two, three, four…
Fucking hell!
Honey! Go ahead.
No, the conference has just ended…
Honey, I'm sorry.
I made a mistake.
I'll let you choose the fantasy football lineup…
No, my ass!
Honey, I'm sorry. I'm an asshole.
She'll like this one.
-Honey, I'm sorry. -Oh, my God!
-Who is it, darling? -Please…
Pavoletti.
Sorry.
Thank you.
-Enjoy the rest of your day. -Thank you.
I touched Pavoletti!
Mom, Dad,
I'm homosexual.
Really?
Welcome to the club!
-Honey! -Mom.
I'll call an ambulance, sir.
-I bid ten on Pavoletti. -Twelve!
Rizzo, I'll be having you glue photos on passports.
Twelve, my butt!
Pavoletti's mine!
Subtitle translation by: Angelica Lacetera