MAN FOR THE BIG OCCASION

Inspirational Roberto takes his old men to new heights with Wembley triumph

NOW we have established that garnishing a pizza with pineapple is culinary vandalism, football’s renaissance under Roberto Mancini is unrivalled in Italian culture.

And although a penalty shootout was a horrible way to confirm it, the better side conquered Europe on the night.

Even when Luke Shaw drilled England in front after just two minutes, the Azzurri were ahead on points.

They get Nessun Dorma and a national anthem that warms the cockles – on this sceptred isle all we get is Sweet Caroline and a dirge about an outdated monarchy.

But in Italy, football isn’t just culture – it’s a religion.

Somewhere on the road to Wembley, renaissance man Mancini must have delivered the most stirring sermon by a coach to his players since Al Pacino fired up the Miami Sharks in Any Given Sunday.

When he took over as Azzurri coach, Italy had failed to qualify for the World Cup and had slipped to their lowest ranking in the FIFA charts.

But on their 33-game unbeaten run to the Euro 2020 final, Mancini summoned his inner Pacino.

“Either we heal as a team, or we are going to crumble – inch by inch, play by play – till we’re finished,” warned the Oscarwinning actor’s character Tony D’amato.

“We are in hell right now, gentlemen. Believe me. And we can stay here, or we can fight our way back into the light... one inch at a time.

“On this team we tear ourselves, and everyone else around us, to pieces for that inch. We claw with our fingernails for that inch.

“Because we know when we add up all those inches that’s gonna make the f ****** difference between winning and losing.”

And on the most electrifying occasion to grace Wembley before or since the twin towers, after a false start Mancini’s resurgent men in blue begrudged England every inch of space.

Giorgio Chiellini and Leonardo Bonucci (inset, right), who have been around so long they are virtually on first-name terms with Caesar, were detailed to police Harry Kane with the nagging authenticity of convicts’ ankle tags.

Apart from his shocking extra-time challenge on Jack Grealish, which was worth a red card on another day, Jorginho tidied up in front of the back four with the efficiency of a vacuum cleaner.

On Pacino’s scale of fine margins, Italy didn’t give England an inch – apart from the early blemish where they afforded Kieran Trippier yards, if not acres, to pick out Shaw at the far post.

But in the end, the Italians’ relentless pressing proved too suffocating. By any yardstick of fairness, they deserved to win over the 120 minutes of football before the purgatory.

They began the tournament by making a Friday night dinner out of Turkey and they finished it looking like the beasts who would not be tamed.

This was never going to be any given Sunday in the rich history of two giant football cultures.

Any given Sundays are two a penny in English football.

Every weekend during the season, Sky Sports will crank up the hype and pass off witless Premier League scuffles as a super sabbath. But when Italy added up the inches that made the difference between winning and losing, they came out on the right side of Pacino’s fine margins.

The Azzurri march on, finding a way to grind out wins in major tournaments, with Mancini drawing on that legacy.

For England, well... they’ll just go back to putting pineapple on their pizza. And choking on penalties.