Shortly after I first moved to Rome, more than twenty years ago, the Mets made the World Series. I wanted to watch the games because I was a Mets fan, born and bred near Shea Stadium, in Flushing, Queens. They were playing the hated Yankees in the first subway series in nearly fifty years, which made watching the series imperative. But the games continued after the bars closed, I had no satellite television in my small apartment, and the era of live streaming and Wi-Fi had not yet dawned.