At 471 West Broadway in South Boston, the Black Thorn bar got alast-minute overhaul this week: new paneling, new wiring, four newtelevision screens. Across the street at 472 West Broadway,Ottavio's Barber Shop got its first-ever cable TV hookup Tuesday,just in time for the World Cup.
Outside, the owners of the Irish pub and the Italian barber shopwere chatting about soccer, as they have done for years. Thisafternoon, when Ireland plays Italy at Giants Stadium, their longtimefriendship will be put on hold.
'It's the Super Bowl, the World Series, the NBA Finals and theStanley Cup rolled into one,' said Black Thorn owner Chris Barrett,who emigrated from Galway City in 1963.
'It's the game of a lifetime,' said his friend Ottavio LoGrasso,who came to Southie from Sicily in 1962.
There is a century-long history of tensions between Irish andItalians in Boston, a history of street fights, mob wars and nastytribal politics. But the tensions have eased in recent years,diluted by intermarriage, flight to the suburbs and common politicalinterests.
Thomas Menino became the first Italian-American mayor of Bostonlast year, winning almost every city precinct (including all seven inpredominantly Irish Charlestown) against an Irish-American opponent.Ray Flynn, Boston's last Irish mayor, is now in Rome as the Americanambassador to the Vatican. Even in the 1970s, activists like PixiePalladino of East Boston and Louise Day Hicks of South Boston stoodside by side, representing communities united against busing.
Today, in Italian cafes along Hanover Street in the North End andin Irish pubs throughout the city, this detente will dissolve for anafternoon. Soccer stirs deep emotions in these game-day gatheringplaces, especially among immigrants who see the sport as a remnant ofthe old country, an emblem of a prized national heritage they fear isreceding with time and distance.
Joe Pagliuca and his brother Freddie came to the North End fromNaples in 1974. At the time, they did not even know what an Americanfootball looked like.
'In the old country, soccer was all we knew,' said Joe Pagliuca,30, who owns Pagliuca's Italian Ristorante on Parmenter Street. 'TheAmericans don't care about soccer. They don't know what's what orwho's who. But the Italians, the real Italians, we understand.'
In the North End, which was an Irish enclave before Italianimmigrants began flooding into Boston toward the end of the 19thcentury, soccer culture revolves around Hanover Street haunts likeCaffe Paradiso, Caffe Graffiti and Caffe dello Sport, where Italianleague games can be seen live via satellite year round.
Angelo Cattaneo, the owner of Caffe dello Sport, said he wasinstalling a new large-screen TV for the World Cup, along with fivesmall screens. 'Soccer is the main discussion we have here,' saidCattaneo, 63. 'Besides women, that is.'
Italy is a three-time World Cup champion, featuring EuropeanFootballer of the Year Roberto Baggio. Ireland is clearly theunderdog, making only its second World Cup appearance. But theItalian immigrants talking soccer last week at Caffe Paradiso werefar from overconfident.
'I'm very, very nervous,' said Manfredi Grassi of Cambridge, whoplayed soccer with a club team called the Boston Italia after heemigrated from Avelino in 1952. 'This Ireland, they're all big boys,very fit for the game. That Baggio, he's getting old. I don't knowwhat's going to happen.'
There are still 264,000 Italians and 409,000 people of Irishheritage living in the Boston metropolitan area. Some Italiansremain in the North End and East Boston, but many have moved north tocommunities like Chelsea, Medford, Saugus and Lynnfield after ageneration or two in Boston. Similarly, many of the area's second-and third-generation Irish have moved south from city neighborhoodslike South Boston and Dorchester to suburbs like Quincy, Weymouth andBraintree.
As hyphenated Americans have assimilated into mainstream culture,some have lost interest in the national sport of their ancestralhome.
Antonella DeMarco, 21, of Medford, is a waitress at CaffeGraffiti. Every night, she watches old Italian immigrants jabberabout soccer, waving their hands in the air for emphasis. But shehas no interest in the game herself.
'The old guys can't stop talking about the World Cup, but I don'treally care about it,' she said. 'I guess I'll end up watchingbecause I work here, but it doesn't mean much to me.'
Among the Irish, soccer fever is also more pronounced amongimmigrants. At the Triple O's pub in Southie, where World Cuppromotional material is plastered all over the walls, bartenderStephen Fitzpatrick said Ireland-Italy has not been a big topic ofdiscussion.
'Where are they playing that game, anyway?' he asked.
At the Black Thorn, which caters to an immigrant clientele,everyone knows where the game is being played, and many plan to bethere. Chris Barrett will fly down to New Jersey for the game today,along with much of his family from Ireland. His co-owner istraveling with the Irish team.
'It's religion to the Irish,' said his brother Michael Barrett,who will stay behind to watch the bar. 'If they win, we drink tocelebrate. If they lose, we drink to drown our sorrows.'
The rivalry between Irish and Italians in Boston will only add tothe excitement here, according to the fans.
In the past, the clash was a bitter one, involving constantfisticuffs as well as epic political battles like the 1952congressional race between Tip O'Neill and Michael LoPresti, in whichboth candidates fielded straw candidates with ethnic surnames to drawaway votes from their opponent. In recent years, there have beenethnic overtones to political squabbles between Frank Bellotti andBilly Bulger, between Dapper O'Neil and Rosaria Salerno.
But for the most part, the rivalry has become a friendly one,personified by an Italian mayor whose staff recently told adelegation from Northern Ireland to call him O'Menin. Thetraditionally insular ethnic enclaves have been mixed by integrationand white flight.
At Sports Magic in the North End, Ted Pasto is doing a briskbusiness selling Italy T-shirts, caps, pins and flags. Butparaphernalia from Ireland is running a close second in sales, wellahead of the United States, a distant fourth behind Greece.
'Everybody expects to see Italy, Italy, Italy, but we get a lot ofIrish customers,' he said. 'There's a rivalry there, but there'salso a connection, you know?
In 1990, Ottavio LoGrasso left his wife and children in Southieand flew to Italy for the World Cup. This year, he will watch on hisbarber shop's new cable system, which he plans to disconnect the daythe tournament ends. He is a devoted fan, dedicated to the Italianteam for life.
But times have changed. And LoGrasso had some kind words for theopposition, too.
'I think it will be a tie,' he said, as his friend Barrett noddedin agreement. 'That would be a good outcome for both of them. Iwant to see Ireland do well, too.'
