Lunch time.

Naturally, I'm hungry and head straight to my favourite Italian eatery nestled in the heart of Montreal's Little Italy.

Actually, it's a family run grocery store that happens to serve lunch. All meals are prepared daily. Lunch in a restaurant can run you $15 and up these days. Not here. For less than $9 I get a slice of pizza (I usually settle for either the sweet sausage and rapini or pancetta with black olives), soup (whatever is fresh for the day — I jump at the stracciatella [egg soup] any chance I get), and an espresso.

It's a beautiful June day and I took the usual five minute walk towards the establishment to catch the Croatia vs. Germany game.

I'm greeted with a spirited and warm, "Sandro!"

Like all Italian places with a television feed, the grocery store shows every single game. With it naturally comes a play-by-play commentary served up by patrons. It's a rather small place, providing immediate intimate spacing. In such a setting, you’re automatically part of several conversations simultaneously orchestrated and conducted.

If I had better hearing I'd probably partake in all of them.

"I'll just be having an espresso today, Dora."

"Ah, came to see the game with us."

"Yes."

"Bravo. Sit down."

I take my place and I'm immediately immersed in the intense but jovial conversations around me.

"A visto l'Italia?" One man asked. (Did you see Italy?)

"Che schifo!" Dora replied. (How disgusting!)

Her colleague added as she served customers, "Speriamo che domani vada meglio." (Hopefully tomorrow will go better)

"Insomma, e buono di perdi qual che volte," an Asian man chimed in with an impeccable Italian diction far superior to mine. (Whatever. For heaven’s sake, it’s okay to lose once in a while!)

My espresso is served and I sit quietly observing the game. Croatia simply looks fantastic on this day. For their part, Germany quickly realized they had a fight on their hands.

The conversation moved towards the two sides contesting the soccer match. A passionate discussion ensues about the quality and history of both sides.

It was quite the scene. Azzurri fans taking delight in a game that does not involve Italy. Isn’t that what soccer is all about? Besides winning, of course.