World Cup USA ’94 / Semifinals : Fan-tastic Semifinals : Oft-Scattered Italians Unite in Victory Cheer

At 1:26 p.m. Wednesday, a joyous roar erupted in the San Remo restaurant and ascended toward the marble-blue heavens of the San Fernando Valley--or “Il Vallone,” as it is known to some of its Italian immigrant residents.

Evocative of Roman legions clashing in battle, of thunderous operatic arias, it was the same kind of sound that fills Italian cities during triumphant moments of soccer games there.

Although business proceeded on a nondescript stretch of Victory Boulevard outside, the crowd inside the restaurant was transfixed by an Italian-language satellite transmission of the World Cup semifinal match between Italy and Bulgaria.

Roberto Baggio, the ponytailed, sleepy-eyed national hero, had just scored a goal to give Italy the lead.

Valdo Venneri, who moments earlier had sprinkled the table and several fans with salt for good luck, shouted in Italian: “He’s a phenomenon! He’s a phenomenon! Is he strong or is he strong, that son-of-a-gun! He’s a phenomenon!”

For Venneri and the other Italians and Italian Americans, San Remo provides a bastion for an ethnic group dispersed by time, prosperity and suburban sprawl. Although several hundred thousand people of Italian descent live in Southern California, Los Angeles has not preserved a Little Italy like those of New York or Boston.

But scattered outposts endure: an Italian church and cultural center in Chinatown, an Italian American club in San Pedro. Villa Scalabrini, a retirement home for immigrants, also houses Fra Noi, a bilingual newspaper for the Italians of California.

The San Remo restaurant brings together a group of immigrants who own construction-related businesses specializing in marble. They eat long lunches, drink, talk, play cards and indulge a fierce obsession with soccer. They show up on Sundays at 5 a.m. to watch live games from Italy.

“It is like a club,” said John Pace, 56. “You feel at home here. You eat as if you were in the south of Italy. You know everybody.”

Pace, a marble importer and distributor who emigrated in 1962, is a regular among regulars. Like the genial owners, Mario and Antonio Di Paola, he hails from the Potenza region. On Wednesday, Pace and his friends watched the World Cup at a well-appointed marble table he had made years ago for daily feasts at San Remo.

With a satellite hookup, the restaurant shows World Cup broadcasts from an Italian network--one example of how distances have shortened for immigrants in the late 20th Century. When 11-year-old Frank Di Paola asked his uncle, Mario, Wednesday if they were going to watch ESPN, his father said, “Forget it. We’re watching it in Italian.”

Italian fans tend to be wound up in the best of times. So Italy’s string of come-from-behind victories in the World Cup has been particularly excruciating, said Tony Di Mambro, a marble importer who lives in Cerritos.

“You always suffer,” said Di Mambro, sunglasses propped on his head. “Always.”

Nearby, Fernando Mastrocinque offered an eloquent example. Resembling a coach in his blue jersey and shorts, he stalked back and forth below the television, his face and gestures a symphony of anguish, relief, consternation and humor. Others grimaced through cigarette and espresso fumes.

After Baggio’s second goal, ecstasy gave way to epiphany.

But then the Bulgarians closed the first half with a successful penalty kick, making the score 2-1.

“Here we go again,” muttered Mastrocinque. “I need something for my heart.”

The second half settled into a test of endurance. As it became clear that Italy would survive, as the final seconds ticked off, Italian flags went up and bottles clanked.

Then it was over: Italy would face destiny--and, as it turned out later, Brazil--in the World Cup final at the Rose Bowl. The warriors of San Remo were already girding for the ultimate combat.

“On Sunday,” said Mastrocinque, clenching a fist, “Pasadena.”