America is gearing up to host the World Cup of Soccer next month. Not exactly a sport that gets Americans excited, although an American team will be showing its stuff. Besides, hyphenated Americans can cheer on their ancestral homelands.
Alas, Italy will not be playing in the 2026 World Cup. The four-time champions (1934, 1938, 1982, 2006) failed to qualify after losing to Bosnia and Herzegovina in a penalty shootout during the European finals last year. To be sure, Italians are in a flunk over this and fired national team coach Luciano Spalletti. Less than two years on the job, he had replaced coach Roberto Mancini who abruptly resigned in 2023 after winning Euro 2020 over a staffing issue. Seems that solid leadership is wanting on and off the field.
Some Trump administration officials suggested that Italy can be squeezed into the competition if the Iranian team is excluded—Iran had won in the Asian play-offs before the current war. Happily, Italian sports officials declined the suggestion as undeserved and certainly not honorable. So, our community will be denied cheering rights and the euphoria of a possible Italian victory. Those of us who remember the elation at Italy’s 1982 and 2006 wins know how uplifting and unifying they were.
common sense.
I often lament how time has eroded Italic pride. There was a time when each day lifted our moods on news from the world of sports, music, movies, television, and sometimes politics. Italian Americans were on a roll. Our celebrity heroes were like us, all-Italian, born of immigrant parents or grandparents. Relatives with heavy accents were the norm growing up and whatever fun we had with them was chastened by the knowledge of their success against all odds.
We may complain about the new generations not having the pride we have, but they live in a different world. Few have four Italian grandparents or even hear an Italian accent at family gatherings. They have no Rocky Marcianos, Joe DiMaggios, Don Ameches, Perry Comos, Dean Martins, or Geraldine Ferraros to connect with. They don’t have a Hollywood that pays homage to Italy as we had in rom-coms like Rome Adventure, introducing us to world-class stars like Rossano Brazzi, Gina Lollobrigida, Marcello Mastroianni, and Sofia Loren. Can you name any Italian American sports or music figures or Hollywood stars today who proclaim their roots or represent their heritage honorably?
Our Gen X*, Millennial, and Gen Z descendants may only derive their italianità from food and celebrities such as Sebastian Maniscalco, a Gen X stand-up comic. His routines are laced with enduring Italian attitudes. He mocks social “norms,” over-thinking, and wasteful habits; often mimicking his Sicilian father’s brusque style for laughs. Italian parents, as we know, didn’t hesitate to “tell it like it is,” without sugar coating. If you spent too money on something, if you overcooked the macaroni, if you followed the crowd instead of tradition, you heard about it.
*Generation X (Gen X): 1965 – 1980 / Millennials (Gen Y): 1981 – 1996 /
Generation Z (Gen Z): 1997 – 2012
Our Maniscalco was comedian Pat Cooper (Pasquale Caputo) who used his father to show us the absurdity of American customs. When Pat wanted to buy a car, his father explained how the NY subway system was better “they open the doors for you, you sit down, they take you where you want, then open the doors when you leave.” To explain multi-culturalism, his father invited the Chinese neighbors to dinner and “put a note in the ravioli” to make them feel comfortable.
Italian humor hasn’t changed in 3,000 years, always based on common sense. The Roman putdown of the scientific Greeks was, “they can tell you the distance from the Earth to the moon but not how many miles to Athens.” Sounds like a Maniscalco or Cooper, right?
Maybe we can pass on our sense of humor while everything else fades away. That and a note in the ravioli may be our only options. –JLM
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