A bright red scooter skids by and the evening fireflies take flight. Springtime has spread itself across Milan like an open palm, and by some trick of the light San Siro is bathed in a magical purple glow from every direction. Climb one of the epic spiral walkways at just the right moment and your reward is one of the great sensory overloads in European football, a place that feels closer to heaven than Earth.
In the distance, the Milan skyline blinking and twinkling in the setting sun. In the foreground, the swell of noise and the smell of narcotics and the billow of flags: black and blue, black and red, delete as appropriate. Another night singing hymns. Another night chasing dreams.
