If you’re Estonia waking up on the morning of October 11th, you’re basically the supporting character in every high school movie who knows the bully’s about to push your face in the mud again, but you show up anyway because maybe—just maybe—the football gods forgot to set their alarm. Italy’s coming to Tallinn’s A. Le Coq Arena, and let’s be clear: this isn’t Rocky vs. Apollo Creed. This is more like Rocky V, with Estonia playing Tommy Gunn, and we know how that ended.
But give Estonia credit—the Blue Shirts keep lacing up their boots, even after getting steamrolled 5-0 by Italy last month. If football had mercy rules, someone at FIFA would have waved a white flag by halftime in Bergamo. It’s like bringing a butter knife to a gladiator ring, and last time Italy didn’t just take the win—they took the whole buffet table. Mateo Retegui was slicing through defenders like John Wick on a bad day, Moise Kean was faster than a Fast & Furious car chase, and Raspadori and Bastoni threw in goals for fun.
Meanwhile, Estonia’s recent form is a mix of moral victories and actual defeats—a 0-0 draw against Andorra and that soul-crushing 5-0 against the Italians. They haven’t scored in two matches, which is basically like paying for a Netflix subscription, logging in, and finding out your favorite show is still “coming soon.” Jürgen Henn’s crew sits fourth in their group, clinging to dignity with all the desperation of a contestant on Survivor trying not to be voted off the island. Their one win against Moldova gives them hope, but hope in football is like hope in the final season of Lost… you really have to squint to see it.
Italy, by contrast, has been binge-watching their own highlight reel. Gattuso’s squad just came off a 5-4 thriller against Israel—so wild it could’ve been written by Quentin Tarantino. Moise Kean is living his best “main character energy”: two goals last match, another against Estonia, and a penchant for showing up when the lights are brightest. Retegui’s got ice in his veins, and Raspadori’s finishing is as reliable as pizza in Naples. Italy’s attack is so potent right now, if Estonia’s keeper makes it to halftime without conceding, someone better check if the universe is broken.
Tactically, this is David vs. Goliath—except Goliath has a bazooka. Italy’s squad rotation could see them rest some starters, but even the B-side wears Gucci cleats. They play a high press, quick transitions, and they don’t just build from the back—they build Lamborghini engines from the back. Estonia, meanwhile, will pack the box tighter than your suitcase before a RyanAir flight and hope for a set piece miracle. Their best shot? Maybe a broken play, maybe a moment of magic from Sinyavskiy or Vassiljev, but even then, it’s basically hoping for a plot twist in a Marvel movie where the local cop beats Thanos.
There’s a subplot here, too: Italy’s chasing Norway at the top of Group I, so there’s zero chance they’re taking this fixture lightly. Every point is gold—think The Godfather’s closing scene. Italy is in make-no-mistakes mode, and Gattuso’s hair-trigger temper means even a single Estonian shot on target will be met with a sideline meltdown worthy of De Niro in Casino.
The stakes for Estonia? Pride. Maybe a goal, maybe not finishing bottom. It’s small stakes, but sports are loaded with these moments—the underdog gets a flicker of glory, and the crowd gets a reason to scream. One goal, one big tackle, one moment. Sometimes, that’s all you need to keep coming back. For Italy, it’s business: three points, keep the train rolling, don’t fumble the bag.
Prediction time: Italy wins, and probably by a couple of goals. Estonia will fight, sure, but unless the scriptwriters hand them a magic pen, expect a repeat of history. Italy’s firepower is just too much. Maybe Estonia sneaks a goal on a counter, and if they do, the stadium will erupt like someone just announced free beer. But in this football reality, the supporting character doesn’t win—he just gets up, dusts off, and prays for better days.
That’s why you watch, though. For the chance—however tiny—that the football gods are running late, and there’s just enough magic in Tallinn for one movie moment.