The memory of an emotion
It was days like these. It was June like now. It was a few decades ago. Those weren't easy years, but we didn't have the war outside our windows either. In these days of June forty years ago, Spain had already kicked off the World Cup.
Italy was there, as almost always. Remembering it today is particularly painful after two consecutive missed World Cup qualifiers. It was the usual Italian national team that leaves to play for a world cup with the usual grumbling and noisy grumbles. Insiders and fans were not fully convinced of that line-up. Exactly as it always happens, or almost always.
Il Comandante
At the head of that group was a man, a Friulian by name Enzo Bearzot, one of the most underrated, and soon forgotten, personalities in the fatuous and ephemeral world of football. The same coach who had driven it four years earlier to the Argentina World Cup, the one who had made us discover Paolo Rossi ed Antonio Cabrini.
In that South American World Cup the Italian national team finished in fourth place, even among many regrets. It was the most beautiful national team of the last fifty years, in the opinion, very questionable, of the writer. Even more beautiful than those that would later win, in the following years and decades, world championships and European championships.
The 80s
In one of his famous songs, the singer-songwriter Raf asked himself: What will remain of these 80s? So much pain and anger, if you think only of the massacre at the Bologna station, August 1th, 1980, which cost the life of a 85 Guests innocent people, or mafia-related murder, 3 September 1982, the General Carlo Alberto Dalla Chiesa, his wife, Emanuela Setti Carraro and agent Dominic Russo. That victory came in the middle, almost as if to give us a smile after weeping innocent victims and before pouring more.
In the irrepressible and iconic exultation of our President of the Republic, Sandro Pertini, there was all the desire of a country to get out of dark years and show the world our best face. And the best face of our country was symbolized, not surprisingly, by two Friulians: Enzo Bearzot e Dino zoff. The two commanders, one on the bench, the other on the field.
The decision not to speak anymore
Humility, work and few words, this was their creed. And then an immeasurable pride. After the first 3 games, decidedly colorless, with 3 faded draws against Poland, Peru and Cameroon, the press began to attack the team and individual players. Uncontrolled and inadmissible rumors began to circulate. The decision to go blank was only a natural consequence of attacks that went far beyond the pure and simple technical aspect.
The team's spokesperson was its captain, Dino Zoff. The best possible spokesperson during a press blackout, he who has always preferred to let people talk… the facts. That silence was really the first brick that built that success And let's imagine it, the great Dino, inside the locker room, he who at 40 was playing his last major tournament of his career, who speaks to his teammates like a newbie John Belushi, from Animal House, reciting the famous phrase: When the going gets tough, the tough get to play.
It was days like these and the beginning of the dream
It was days like these. From that moment events began, sporting speaking, that those who have had the good fortune to experience them will never forget. Like that afternoon of 5 July 1982 at the Sarrià Stadium in Barcelona ...
But this is another, unforgettable story.
