Franco Vanni - La Repubblica
She does not say her real name. "Write Adana," she says. During the day she studies at a private university and we met her there. In the evenings he works in one of the many premises of the Bloc, once a forbidden "castle" of communist intelligence, now an area with trendy clubs.
Adana, tall and blonde, grips the dental books between her elbow and hips to keep them from falling to the ground as she digs into her purse.
"Look at this note given to me by the boss in the bar," she says in English, although she also spoke Italian fluently. She shows some lines written in Albanian which the owner has given to her and her colleagues about the time when the fans will come and about how they should serve them.
"First, she explains, you will receive the payment immediately, whenever they order, otherwise the fans will leave. Rule number two, on the other hand, only applies to Italians, she says, lowering her voice, to the embarrassment of being in front of an Italian, who stretches out his hands when drinking. "So we have to be careful." And there it stops. "For the rest, she cuts it short by folding the letter with the notes, these are normal things."
Armored city
A normal thing for Tirana, the final of the Conference League is certainly not. Institutions, from the central to the local government, are convinced of this. To minimize the risk of accidents, the authorities have decided to suspend activities considered non-essential. This includes everything: post offices near the stadium, supermarkets selling alcohol, entire streets in the center, even the private university that Adana attends.
"Politicians want to leave a good impression and show that Albania can expect a great event. They are right, they do well, but I do not understand all this fear ", says Luani, the manager of a bar, in excellent Italian.
His bar, in the center of Tirana, has tables that seem to be in Paris, pines shade the sidewalks while parked in front is a shiny Mercedes.
"I will keep it open normally, the fans are welcome, football is my passion," he smiles. He then reveals that he does cheer for Parma, despite never stepping into the city of Stefano Pioli.
"We had Gianfranco Zola, now we are in Serie B." The hard life of a fan. The heart is not commanded. Blame Italian television for showing the glories of the Tanz era.
Waiting for thousands of ultras
Tens of thousands of fans have been received in Tirana. Among them, 500 ultras on each side. Enough to disturb law enforcement in a country where public safety is usually not a problem, it is not on the public agenda, it does not even require an opinion.
From Italy and the Netherlands, in pursuit of the fans, will be present as babysitters dozens of police officers of specialized departments: On the streets there will then be "large forces" of Albanian police.
"If in doubt, we will pay two extra people as security staff," said the owner of another bar. But even he like Leo does not worry much.
"Three years ago a Scottish team came to play here in Tirana. All drunk, all cheerful, no problems. There are other pains that football causes. "My concern, as an Inter fan, is that the best players are sold in the market," he said.