As the dark cloak of the night fell over Italy, the streets were still buzzing with activities, filled with chirps from insects and joyous echoes of human laughter. The soft luminescence from the streetlights cast a magical glow on the streets making them look ethereal and as bright as day and the cold, comfortable night wind blew across the streets, carrying a soothing feeling to whomever it touched.
The tournament matches; whether wins, defeats or qualifiers, seemed to be the topic of everyone's conversation as they moved through the streets. They were all talking about the likely strongest participant or country that would take up most positions in the tournament or the possible prizes to be given to the top three.
"I'm telling ya, brother," Camillo said to his friend as they were walking "It's goin' to be a Nigerian that will win this tournament"
