The game, the goals and the glory: Is it ‘coming home’ or heading to Rome?

It’s finally here. After four weeks of pulsating football, imperious Italy and egoistic England have a date with destiny. London is the theatre and Wembley the stage for a potentially explosive Euro 2020 final.

About 60,000 fans will be on parade and, whatever happens on the pitch, there will be tears at the Thames.

It’ll be an encounter of tactics and technique, scale and skill, power and panache, heroes and villains between two of the foremost and formative nations who first met in a competitive match 88 years ago.

Millions of fans around the world are champing at the bit for one of the greatest rivalries in European football as the Roman juggernaut descends on the British capital.

From the Vatican to Vanuatu, Nairobi to Niamey, they will gather in public parks, sports bars, hotels, brothels, hospitals, social halls, even behind prison walls to watch one of the most anticipated matches after the Fifa World Cup Final.

Buoyed by the roar of a wild crowd with a fanatical devotion to the beautiful game, England go into their first major final in 55 years and first ever in Europe after a fairytale run that has already surpassed their wildest dreams.

The Roman army, on the other hand, is on a mission to correct the gross injustice meted out to the Nordic Vikings at Wembley on Wednesday on a night of high drama, grave delinquency and utter deception.

If there were any lingering doubts about the foibles of the VAR, then Raheem Sterling confirmed this in the controversial semi-final clash with a sterling dive that is possibly worth gazillions of Sterling pounds. That deliberate and diabolical plunge would have put Neymar and Michael Phelps to shame.

The Prussians were robbed blind by shambolic refereeing as millions of their followers watched in shock and disbelief. But it’s pointless to cry over spilt milk; you win some, you lose some.

Will England rise to the occasion and turn their decades of tears to cheers? Or, will they buckle under pressure and cast their fate to the winds?

With Harry enjoying a rich vein of form, there’s a palpable sense of belief flowing through the arteries of the Three Lions.

Yes, they Kane.

The talismanic captain, who was only two years old when manager Gareth Southgate missed a crucial penalty the last time England hosted the Euros, carries the hopes of 55 million fanatics while inspirational skipper Giorgio Chiellini shoulders the expectations of 60 million football-mad Italians.

Roberto Mancini’s men have dazzled fans around the world, but do they have the stamina to finish the Italian job?

The strong defensive wall marshalled by the indefatigable Leonardo Bonucci and the lethal offensive line headed by the insanely gifted Lorenzo Insigne should tame the Lions.

In the middle of the pack, Jorginho pulls the strings and Italy sings. Now on the cusp of glory, the fighting spirit of the blue shirts could send the cup to Rome and end the incessant chorus, Football is Coming Home.

That song, so beloved to the English, is an irritant to so many nations. It was recorded in 1996 at the outset of the Euros and became a de facto anthem of the chanting fans to date.

When England fell to Germany in the semis, the travelling fans began singing the same song to irritate the composers. The irony of it was never missed and tonight, the neutrals will wait to see if it shall be done again. Just where is the ‘home’ of football?

For humanity’s sake, the Azzurri have a monumental responsibility to silence the noisy English yobs and mute the hype masters at Fleet Street. It’s the only thing to do. The clarion call is to restore calm in the world and, sure as night follows the day, it shall come to pass.

The battle will be fought from the two impressive goalkeepers to the 12th man in the stands. The title may be won or lost through a disastrous back pass, a sloppy clearance, a spilt ball, a superb header, or a disputed penalty.

There will be flashes of brilliance, acts of courage and moments of sacrifice. The players will cover every blade of grass and fight for every inch of ground; they will leave everything on the pitch to defend the flag.

As the curtain falls, spare a thought for the men eliminated from the circus that traversed 11 countries to celebrate its 60th anniversary despite the gargantuan challenges occasioned by the pandemic.

For the devastated Dutch, the pitiful Portuguese, the stylish Spanish, the woeful Welsh, the crestfallen Croats, the sorry Scotland, who gatecrashed the party and were quickly kicked out, the slick Swedes, and the success-hungry Hungary, we salute them.

And if the Germans were bordering on the absurd, the Ukrainians were refreshing, the Swiss surprising, and the Austrians awesome. No joy, though, for the cheerful Czechs and the brittle Belgians, nor, sadly, the humpty dumpty French team. They are all at the forefront of our collective mind.

You will hear of heaps of garbage left behind across the 11 host cities, coaches fired, superstars retired and the emergence of young prodigies, such as Spain’s wonderkid Pedri and Belgium’s Jeremy Doku, who will keep the ball rolling in the next outing.

In case you missed anything — be it Christian Eriksen’s horrifying near-death experience in Denmark’s group game, the slow motion Jorginho penalty that fired Italians to the final, Cristiano Ronaldo’s sumptuous finish against Germany, or Patrik Schick’s stunning strike from halfway line against Scotland (Holy Schick!) —  it’s somewhere on cybersphere in megabytes and gigabytes.

So, who’s your money on? Is it going to Rome, or coming home? May the best team win!

Prrr prrrrr prrrrrrrrr!      BY DAILY NATION