I confess: I’m in love with an older woman.

It all started innocently enough. I was a dewy-eyed six-year-old when she first caught my eye. It was hard not be taken in by her breathtaking beauty, so obvious were her womanly charms

Her lustrous, heavenly curves. The way she moved with such elegance and grace. The way she wreaked havoc with my raging hormones.

I became infatuated with this tempting mistress.

Yep, it’s fair to say it was a case of love at first sight when I saw Italian soccer club Juventus play for the first time.

Known as La Vecchia Signoria (The Old Lady) in Italian press circles, the Turin-based club has been the love of my life ever since that fateful day our eyes met across a crowded room.

Now, just days away from taking on fellow countrymen A.C. Milan in the Champions League final -- European soccer’s top club competition -- my beloved Juventus and I are about to renew our vows.

This is familiar territory for the Old Lady and I. In 1985, I made our love known to the world after Juventus defeated Liverpool in the European Cup final -- the predecessor to today’s Champions League.

We were allowed to pursue our love unfettered that afternoon thanks to my mother -- an old-fashioned romantic at heart -- who wrote my Grade 6 gym teacher Mr. Dooley a note, excusing me from class for a doctor’s appointment.

I watched the game instead.

Eleven years later, I called in sick into work and watched la Juve outlast Ajax in the final in a thrilling penalty shoot-out.

Such was my affection for her that I would risk anything to steal away from the doldrums of my daily, mundane life just so that we could smooch a little.

Oh sure, the Old Lady’s beauty has faded somewhat over the years. There are more visible lines and creases on her face. She’s a few years older than when I first met her.

But I’m still hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with the woman.

Why else would I blow a couple of grand on airfare, hotel rooms and match tickets, and fly across the Atlantic to attend the Champions League final in Manchester if I weren’t madly in love?

Of course, we’ve had our ups and downs like most couples. A trio of younger, prettier girls turned my head over the years. I admit it, I strayed.

Like a fool, I tried to see these other girls behind the Old Lady’s back. “Surely, she would never find out,” I said to myself at the time. “Surely, one kiss wouldn’t hurt.”

After all, it was the Old Lady that made me into a two-timing lech. She was a demanding, petulant mistress, expecting me to be a one-woman man during that stretch of nine years from 1986 to 1995 when Juventus failed to win a single Serie A title.

It didn’t seem to matter to her that she broke my heart year in and year out. She wanted me to remain monogamous.

And so I kept seeing the Old Lady on a regular basis, all the while juggling my ill-fated affairs.

How could I possibly be expected to remain faithful while growing up in Burlington, Ont.? I mean, for God’s sake, I was in the heart of Leafs country. Was I just supposed to ignore the allure of Maple Leaf Gardens?

Like every kid in Canada during the ‘80s, I idolized Wayne Gretzky and the Edmonton Oilers. How could I be expected to turn down the advances of this temptress and the seemingly endless supply of Stanley Cup championships she offered up?

And then there was that short romance with the Boston Celtics.

But in the end, those trysts were nothing more than a summer fling. Oh, I still run into those other girls from time to time. We always engage in polite chitchat before they inevitably start flirting with me and try to seduce me into coming back to them.

But no matter how much I may be tempted, I am determined to remain faithful to my favourite woman.

Our love may be full of bad memories -- like when Juventus lost the division title on the last day of the 1999/2000 season to Lazio thanks to a surprising loss to lowly Perugia -- but the bad times are far outweighed by the good -- like last year when Juventus leapfrogged over Inter Milan in the standings on the last day of the season to win its 26th Scudetto.

The Old Lady, much more wise in the ways of love than I, has taught me a valuable lesson: love isn’t easy. Love is often complicated. Love can often wound the heart.

But, sometimes love is supposed to hurt.

This is what makes the good times that much sweeter. And that’s what sports is all about.

No matter if I wind up sitting in a section of A.C. Milan fans at Old Trafford on May 28, you can be sure that I’ll be publicly professing my undying devotion to the love of my life, my beloved Juventus.

And if I don’t defend her honour, I have little doubt my betrothed will give me the cold shoulder the next time we’re together.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Especially the Old Lady.