The Best 7 Spots in Rome to Watch Calcio with Locals in 2026
I still get goosebumps thinking about that foggy November evening in 2018, when I stumbled into Rome just as AS Roma was gearing up for a grudge match against Juventus. I'd come for the ruins and the pasta, but calcio—Italian football—sucked me in like a riptide. The streets pulsed with yellow-and-orange scarves, chants echoing off ancient stone, and suddenly I wasn't a tourist anymore; I was squeezed into a corner of some dive bar, beer in hand, roaring with strangers who treated me like family after Roma nicked a late winner. That night changed everything.
Fast forward to planning my 2026 return—Serie A’s heating up, Roma’s rebuilding under fresh ownership whispers, Lazio’s got that derby fire—and I know exactly where to go. Not the glossy expat haunts, but the raw, sweat-soaked spots where locals watch calcio like true Romans. These are the places packed with born-and-bred tifosi, where you'll feel the ground rumble on a goal. Rome's neighborhoods play out like football tactics: Trastevere's chaotic creativity, Testaccio's gritty defense, Prati's strategic press near the Olimpico. I've crisscrossed them over a dozen trips, nursing hangovers from too many Peronis and too few goals. Come 2026, bigger crowds will flood in as streaming glitches push everyone back to the big screens, and these seven spots stand out—no velvet ropes, just sticky tables, cheap drafts, and that electric hum before kickoff. Let's wander.
Start in Trastevere, that warren of ivy-draped alleys where the Tiber whispers secrets. It's football central for Roma ultras—rowdy, unpretentious, drawing the faithful early for those top Trastevere haunts buzzing with locals in 2026.
Ma Che Siete Venuti a Fà
Via Benedetta 55, 00153 Roma. This isn't just a pizzeria; it's a temple. Walk in on match day (they fling open at noon, screens blazing till 2 a.m. or whenever the ref blows final), and you're hit with the tang of wood-fired dough, bubbling tomato sauce, and maybe charred eggplant if you're lucky. The place sprawls across two floors, walls plastered with faded Roma pennants and Polaroids of wild nights. I once wedged into a corner table during a Europa League thriller—table for four, but eight of us crammed, elbows flying as pizza flew faster. The locals? Salt-of-the-earth types: builders with callused hands, nonnas yelling at the TV like it's their no-good ex. Order the supplì (crispy rice balls oozing mozzarella) or a margherita so thin it snaps—€8-12 a pop—and a €5 Moretti. When Roma scored, the eruption shook the rafters; I spilled half my beer hugging a guy named Marco who'd adopted me mid-chant. It's one of the best bars in Rome to watch Serie A with locals because it feels like crashing a family reunion. No cover, but get there two hours early for Lazio vs Roma derbies—they spill into the street, flares popping like fireworks. Last year, post-derby, I nursed a €3 arancino at 3 a.m., plotting my next fix. With Trastevere's night scene exploding in 2026, this'll be ground zero.
Bar San Calisto
Piazza di San Calisto 19, 00153 Roma. A stone's throw away, still breathing that Trastevere magic, this hole-in-the-wall's been slinging drinks since the '70s—open from 7 a.m. to 2 a.m. daily, but match nights? Doors crack at 11 a.m., TV volume cranked. It's dim, smoky (despite bans), with mismatched stools and a counter scarred from decades of glasses slamming down. Step inside, and it's pure sensory assault: espresso fumes mingling with fried artichoke oil from the panino spot next door, the clink of Peroni bottles, and that pre-game buzz like bees in a hive. I discovered it after a wrong turn post-pizza binge; a Lazio fan—rare bird here—bought me a shot of grappa to "convert" me. Ha. The crowd's eclectic: artists sketching on napkins, pickpockets eyeing your wallet (keep it close), and diehard Romans dissecting tactics like philosophers. €4 pints, €2 panini stuffed with porchetta that drips fat down your chin. During a 2023 Roma-Lazio derby, the place nearly imploded—tables flipped, songs belted till hoarse. Neutral-ish but Roma-leaning, it's prime for where locals watch those fiery derbies. Unpretentious, alive. I once tried the house sambuca, flame and all, and coughed for 10 minutes while fans slapped my back laughing. Imperfect? The bathroom's a portal to hell, but that's the charm. For 2026, brace for queues snaking to the fountain.
Cross the river to Testaccio, Rome's beating heart for calcio purists. This ex-abattoir district birthed AS Roma fandom—working-class, unyielding. The best places here to watch with Romans? Keep reading.
Sciue Sciue
Via Acaia 14, 00183 Roma. Open 12 p.m. to 11 p.m. weekdays, stretches to 1 a.m. weekends and matches. It's a fritti specialist—fried everything—but doubles as a fan cave with massive projectors. The air's thick with potato crocchette grease, buffalo mozzarella melting into zucchini flowers (€6-10 bites), and the yeasty puff of birre artigianali. I rolled in during a rainy Sunday clash with Inter, coat dripping, and was waved to a communal table by a crew of market vendors still in aprons. They shoved a trapizzino my way—pizza dough pockets oozing oxtail stew—and suddenly I'm yelling "Forza Roma!" like I mean it. Walls throb with murals of Totti glory days, scarves dangling from pipes. Capacity? Maybe 100, but 150 squeeze in, shoulders rubbing, laughs booming. Unchanged grit: no playlists, just the match roar and post-game debates over cacio e pepe. One mishap: I burned my tongue on a scalding supplì, but the grappa chaser fixed it. As Testaccio gentrifies in 2026, this holds the line—pure, loud, local soul.
Erdre Pub
Via di Monte Testaccio 97B, 00153 Roma. Sticking in Testaccio (technically edges over, but same soul). They unlock at 6 p.m., but match days from 4 p.m., rock till 2 a.m. Irish-Italian hybrid, but Romans own it—dark wood beams, Guinness taps next to Peroni, screens in every nook. Smell of shepherd's pie clashing with amatriciana pasta, €7 plates that stick to ribs. My memory? A balmy 2024 Napoli game: terrace packed, moon over the Testaccio hill, fans in Giallorossi chanting till police hovered. I bonded with Enzo, a retired butcher, over his tales of '80s ultras life—fists pumping at every tackle. €5 drafts flow; try the house ale, hoppy bite. Lively, with darts for halftime, zero pretension. During derbies, it divides amicably—Lazio corner stays quiet. Quirky flaw: the loo queue's eternal, but you make friends waiting. Fits perfectly for cheering AS Roma amid authentic pub vibes. 2026 projection: Bigger screens post-Euro upgrades.
Up near the Vatican, Prati's your strategic outpost—close to Stadio Olimpico for post-match pilgrimages.
Qiu
Via Germanico 198, 00192 Roma. Opens noon daily, match extensions to 3 a.m. Belgian bar vibe with moules-frites (€12), but Italian heart: screens galore, Roma flags fluttering. The scent? Steamed mussels in white wine, frites crisp and salty, undercut by birre trappiste foam. I hit it for a Champions qualifier, jet-lagged from NYC, and the warmth thawed me—bartender Luca slid a Kwak glass (€6) and a stool amid Vatican office workers turned hooligans. When Džeko buried one, glasses clashed like cymbals; I high-fived a nun-lookalike (off-duty, surely). Spacious terrace for smokers, indoor caves for diehards. Polished yet passionate hidden gem for watching calcio like a Roman. Beats tourist traps; the moules are life-changing. 2026 bonus: Olimpico shuttle rumors. One gripe: Crowded terrace on wins.
Campo de' Fiori vicinity beckons next.
Highlander Pub
Via degli Orfani 82, 00186 Roma. Scottish outpost since '94, opens 12 p.m., matches till late (4 a.m. peaks). Haggis meets supplì: €8 fish 'n' chips, €4 pints of Tennents or Peroni. Smoky haze, tartan walls, 10 screens. I stumbled here after Pantheon-wandering, mid-2022 Milan derby proxy—place erupted in proxy cheers. Locals mix with students; I arm-wrestled a tipsy engineer over a ref call, lost beer as forfeit. Chants spill to the piazza fountain. Raw energy, €3 whisky chasers. Flaw: Sticky floors post-rush. Pulsing with that locals-only football vibe for 2026.
Finally, circle to Monti for an intimate anchor.
Drunken Ship Pub
Via degli Avignonesi 19, 00187 Roma. Opens 1 p.m., match marathons to 3 a.m. Pirate-themed, but Roman soul: €5 burgers, Peroni towers. Wood panels echo with sea shanties-cum-chants. My tale: Solo for a Lazio cup tie, adopted by a table of cop-turned-fans debating Dybala's dip. Seafood platters (€15) salty-fresh, screens sharp. Intimate, 80 souls max—feels like home invasion in best way. Balanced crowds for derbies. Humor: I slurred a toast, got cheers. Neighborhood's rising; this anchors the top spots for calcio nights ahead.
Join the Roar in 2026
There you have it—seven souls of Roman calcio, from Trastevere's frenzy to Prati's poise. I've sweated through losses here, celebrated wins till dawn, learned "vaffanculo" the hard way. With Serie A under global eyes and Olimpico vibes peaking, dive in. Book flights, pack your scarf, and join the roar. Roma awaits—non mollare mai.