In a match that could only be described as a penalty shootout gone rogue, AC Milan found themselves on the wrong side of a thrilling 2-1 upset by Fiorentina, despite the best efforts of their own heroic goalkeeper, Mike Maignan. However, the real story of the day belonged to David De Gea, who played the role of savior for the home side—sort of like a modern-day Robin Hood, robbing the rich (Milan’s chances of winning) to give back to the poor (Fiorentina’s aspirations for a decent season). The match kicked off with all the intensity of a caffeinated Italian espresso as both teams jostled for control. But, as fate would have it, the first missed penalty came when Milan’s Theo Hernandez stepped up—only to realize moments before kicking that not even the most fervent fans believed in him that day. Much to the crowd's delight and his own chagrin, De Gea turned into a brick wall, thwarting Hernandez's attempt like a mother shooing away an annoying mosquito. Soon after, as if the penalty gods were plotting their revenge against poor decision-making, Tammy Abraham strode up to the spot. With confidence rivaling that of a mid-level manager presenting a new project to the board, he took his shot—only to discover that De Gea was having a particularly good day, like a cat that suddenly decided it wanted to be the ruler of the house. Fiorentina got on the board with a goal from Yacine Adli, which sent the fans into a frenzy, leading some to wonder if De Gea had slipped them a sedative to make the celebration less chaotic. They then doubled their lead with a strike from Albert Gudmundsson, further amplifying the confusion for Milan fans, who were still trying to process the first two debacles of missed penalties. Milan finally got a goal back in a bid to salvage their dignity, but by then, the crowd was already too enthralled by the spectacle of De Gea's superhero antics. Maignan, Milan’s goalie, was also feeling generous, performing an acrobatic save against Moise Kean, causing the Fiorentina forward to ponder whether the woodwork had a personal vendetta against him. As the game wound down, the scenes were reminiscent of an opera—drama unfolding on the pitch, a goalie duel like no other, and fans experiencing a rollercoaster of emotions which ranged from jubilation to dismay, all punctuated by the occasional poorly-timed pasta joke from commentators struggling to convey the chaos. When the final whistle blew, AC Milan was left to contemplate what had gone wrong: were their strikers channeling the spirits of comedic actors from ancient Rome, or had David De Gea just been dipped in a magic elixir that granted him superhuman reflexes? In a city renowned for its art, football painters figured their canvas must have been cursed this Sunday. As Fiorentina celebrated, Milan grimly collected their thoughts. Maybe next time they would reconsider the wisdom of taking penalties while wearing their unlucky blue away kits, or perhaps just find a way to bribe the referees—after all, it worked for all the other great clubs, right?