Here's a description from NYT of the 1990 World Cup in Italy:
For those who love it, there's nothing better. It's a blast. The spectacle is awesome.In Florence, a group from Czechoslovakia tried to get me drunk as they celebrated both a 5-1 victory over the United States and their country's first post-Soviet elections. In Siena, a lone Cameroonian carrying his country's flag crossed the central piazza to waves of applause from cafe patrons. In Naples, the woman sitting next to me prayed audibly for Argentina to hold on to its narrow lead over Brazil .
On trains, ferries and planes, I was swept along with cheerful Irishmen, barmy Scots, dancing Colombians and, of course, the Italians, flashing updated scores with their fingers at opera recitals as they listened to matches through earpieces, festooning their apartment balconies by the hundreds in red, white and green, and generally reveling in the monthlong holiday of fun, monomania and anxiety that is the World Cup.