Malta erupts as last-gasp Juve outgun Inter in seven-goal classic

# Seven-Goal Turin Thriller Has Malta’s Juventini Singing in the Streets

The final whistle at the Allianz Stadium had barely echoed across the Mediterranean before car horns and tricolour flags replaced the usual Tuesday-night calm on Valletta’s Strait Street. Juventus’ wild 4-3 win over Inter in the Derby d’Italia—sealed by a 90th-minute Arkadiusz Milik header—sent Malta’s sizeable Bianconeri community into raptures, turning the capital’s baroque alleyways into a black-and-white parade ground.

Inside the crowded Sliema watering hole The Dubliner, where more than 200 Juventini gather for every big Serie A clash, the moment was almost too much for 28-year-old Żabbar local Clayton Azzopardi. “When Inter made it 3-3 in the 83rd I felt the same pain as when we lost the 1997 Champions League final to Dortmund—I was eight, but the scar is still there,” he laughed, wiping beer foam from his beard. “Then Milik rose like a Polish angel and suddenly we’re hugging strangers, spilling Kinnie on the floor, singing ‘Grazie Juve’ at the top of our lungs. My nonna in Birkirkara could hear us!”

Malta’s love affair with Juventus stretches back to the 1950s, when RAI’s first flickering TV images arrived on the island and a certain John Charles became a household name. Today, the official Juventus Club Malta counts 1,800 paid-up members—remarkable on an island of barely 520,000—and organisers estimate that at least 25,000 Maltese identify primarily as bianconeri. Club president Dr. Rebecca Bonnici says dramatic victories like Tuesday’s feed directly into community spirit. “We had 42 viewing parties from Gozo to Marsascala,” she told *Hot Malta*. “Each goal triggered fireworks in half the villages; school WhatsApp groups lit up with kids begging to stay up ‘just five more minutes’. Football is woven into our festa culture—only the saints’ statues were swapped for Ronaldo jerseys years ago.”

The match itself was a heart-stopping rollercoaster that felt tailor-made for Maltese drama queens. Juve raced into a 2-0 lead inside 20 minutes through Vlahović and Kostić, only for Inter’s Romelu Lukaku to halve the deficit from the spot before half-time. When Barella thundered in the equaliser on 52 minutes, groans in St. Julian’s sports bars rivalled those at the Manoel Theatre during a tragic opera. Cuadrado’s curled free-kick restored Juve’s lead, but substitute Dimarco looked to have stolen a point for the Nerazzurri—until Milik’s last-gasp header sparked scenes worthy of a village patron saint’s day.

Local businesses cashed in. “We sold 350 €1 ‘black-and-white’ pastizzi—pea filling with a mozzarella stripe—in under an hour,” revealed Carlo Zammit, owner of popular Rabat kiosk Crystal Palace. “Inter fans queued anyway; rivalry stops at Maltese hunger.” Meanwhile, Lotto Booths reported a 20 % spike on late-night Instants, punters convinced the lucky momentum would transfer to their numbers.

Beyond commerce, the game revived childhood memories for many. 67-year-old Sliema nonno Tony Camilleri recalled listening on short-wave radio in 1973 when Juve last scored four against Inter. “We huddled round a transistor in my father’s garage. Tonight my grandson Facetimed me from university in Leeds so we could watch together. Technology changes; the emotion doesn’t.”

For younger Maltese, the thriller reinforced Serie A’s grip in an era of Premier League marketing. “English football is on every cereal box, but nothing beats Italian passion,” argued 16-year-old Maya Spiteri, who plays for Birkirkara’s women’s academy. “Watching Chiesa dribble reminds me why I lace up my boots every Saturday.”

As dawn broke over the Grand Harbour, fishermen heading out swapped match highlights instead of weather forecasts. Whether Juve’s victory will prove a title-turner remains uncertain, but on these rocks it has already achieved something greater: a mid-week sense of togetherness that no government initiative could manufacture. In a country often split by politics and parish boundaries, 22 men kicking a ball 700 kilometres away united Maltese hearts faster than any anthem.

The flags will be folded away this morning, the car horns will quieten, but the memory of Milik’s soaring header will live on—proof that for Malta’s football faithful, distance is measured not in kilometres but in heartbeats. As Clayton Azzopardi put it while finally heading home through Sliema’s silent streets: “Tomorrow we go back to work, but tonight we were all in Turin. And that’s the closest thing to magic an islander can get.”