Lining the broad, braggart avenue that Mussolini constructed besides some of Rome's more familiar landmarks - the Colosseum, the forums, the typewriter - are statues of some of the most famous emperors. They stand there, all with a similar stance. One arm, one finger lightly raised to the sky, or pointing towards something in the distance. The slight variations of the theme of the finger, but the ever present mugging for posterity renders it not entirely unlike the gestures footballer perform after scoring a goal these days; they don't all do exactly the same, but nearly all of them do do something.

I don't know if those statues reminding Rome, and its visitors, of the great men from previous times are what Totti had in mind when he started doing something new. Because he does, these days. Whenever he scores a goal (or as yesterday, assists), he just stops dead in his tracks. It looks a bit awkward until you get used to it, perhaps because footballers are supposed to run around when scoring, and half the time I am scared to death it's because he's heard a referee whistle and the goal won't be allowed. He still puts his thumb in his mouth, as he's done for years already, but he now does it standing still. Just standing there, in the same spot he took the shot. Is it because he's sending out connotations that he, like the emperors lining via dei Fori Imperiali,  in all his might just needs to stand still, that doing so makes him seem even more grand and on another level to his peers? I hold no answers, just questions.

And a penchant for trying to contextualize Totti to his city's history, a habit that would probably make better analysts shake their heads and shrug just a little bit.