The dressing room at the Stadio Olimpico was a glorious, soaking wet, champagne-fueled paradise.
The Coppa Italia trophy sat in the center of the room like a king on its throne, and the players, his loyal, half-drunk jesters, took turns paying their respects.
The music was so loud that the walls were vibrating, a chaotic mix of Latin pop and Italian club anthems, courtesy of DJ Dimarco.
Players were dancing on the benches, singing off-key, and taking an endless stream of blurry, grinning selfies.
"I'm telling you, it's a happy bucket!" Julián Álvarez yelled over the music to a laughing Cole Palmer. Julián had the gleaming trophy in his hands and was peering into its reflective surface. "Look! I see my reflection, and it's smiling! Therefore, the cup is happy that we won it! The science is undeniable!"
Palmer just shook his head, a wide grin on his face. "Right. A happy, shiny bucket. Can't argue with that logic."
