Stephen Roberts slicks back his mane of hair, lights a tab, and slaps women's backsides as he analyses Italia's chances this summer...

Italy, the birthplace of the pizza (thought we’d get that one out of the way early on), home to a populace of beautiful women, beautiful men and sumptuous cuisine. A land where ‘respect’ is of the upmost importance, a country built on the foundations of great men; Caesar, Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Danté. And a place where a twennydeck of Marlboro Lights costs €4.50, tops.

Italy

12/1 (Paddy Power)

 
Nickname...
Gli Azzurri
 
How they qualified...
We’re still not sure as to why they had to qualify, they’re reigning champs. Nevertheless, qualify they did, after having given the Irish their first dabblings with heartbreak during qualifying with a last minute equaliser at Croke Park.
 
Commentators are most likely to bang on about...
The ageing status of the side, Fabio Capello’s ‘mixed’ emotions, the inclusion/exclusion of Del Piero/Totti, Maldini modelling for H&M, Berlusconi’s ‘indiscretions’.
 
Players you’ll have heard of...
Fabio Cannavaro, Rino Gattuso, Gianluigi Buffon.
 
A player you can pretend to know...
Gaetano D’Agostino. Udinese playmaker who makes us look back fondly to the days of ISS Pro ’98, and the Master League side that only had one decent player - namely D’Agostino. Not this one but, nevermind..
 
Mental manager rating...
Marcelo Lippi, known as Il Professore by his contemporaries. Looked at one point as though he’d been caught up in the Calciopoli scandal. Wasn’t. Currently resides in the upper echelons of the Italian Football Hall of Fame. One World Cup, five Serie A titles, one Champions League, one Waffa Supercup and one Intercontinental Cup.
 
Chances of hooliganism...
Surely not, the Italian ragazzi will be too busy doing the Prandelli. I.e smoking, hitting on girls and wearing those crap plastic puffa jackets, or a crap plastic puffa gilet – it’s going to be scorchio after all.
 
If they were a celeb they’d be...
Ian Poulter. Won a couple of tourneys, plenty of ‘style’, technically sound, shedloads of unfounded arrogance, always good for a few rounds.
 
How we’ll reckon they’ll do...
They’ll look unconvincing early on, idiot pundits (us) will write them off, however, they’ll grow as the whole shebang progresses. Pirlo, even though he’s an utter fanny, is one of the finest, most elegantestestest passers of the ball you’ll ever see. The Tom Brady* of Italian football if you will. They’ll need him at his best to emerge with the trophy.
 
*we only know two NFL players, Tom Brady and Brett Favre.