The global weather patterns are changing, more extremes are already upon us. In Italy, like many in Southern Europe and beyond, the summer highs are becoming intolerable, and rains when they arrive are monsoon-like in intensity. In 2023, at least two regions of Italy have been badly hit by flash flooding. The first area to succumb to the vagaries of these weather systems was the flatlands of Emilia-Romagna south of Bologna. It devastated houses, homes and businesses in a wide area. It arrived just ahead of the Imola Grand Prix (known as the San Marino race apparently, even though nowhere near the hilltop nation), and such was the extent of the damage, that particular race was scrapped for the season, doubtlessly at immense financial loss from petrol-head tourism and race circuit revenues. Just another consequence of these unfortunate floods.
Almost six months later, my fiance and I were in Bologna, enjoying our last day in the city, and while the sky was blue, the temperature was bitingly cold. We had enjoyed the city centre once more that morning but largely due to temperature, Tania wanted to head back to the hotel, to relax and wash her hair. At 13,45 on a Sunday afternoon I knew I might be able to get to a game, and having said cheerio outside our hotel, handily right across from the railway station, I was perusing timetables for a train to Imola, as I clocked it was one option should I have some time on my hands. I knew it was close to Bologna having visited the city previously. As luck would have it, minutes later I was whisking my way slightly south east for a 20 minute journey to one of Italy’s two homes of Grand Prix, with Monza perhaps the slightly more famous circuit. I jumped in the only cab at the station, and she headed off but was trying to explain something to me, but I wasn’t quite catching the essence of her chat, but I agreed?!
What she was trying to explain was that, the most convenient bridge across the river that separates the town and race circuit/football stadium (they are side by side), wasn’t repaired fully after the floods yet, and only pedestrians could cross. It was here that the River Santerno truly wreaked havoc.
I paid the fare and headed across the battered and bruised bridge. It was lucky that the flood waters hadn’t caused it to completely collapse, and plan B the next crossing is some distance away. On the other side of the river, if you turn left the Imola track and its museum is available at the Enzo and Dino Ferrari Autodromo. If you are here for calcio, turn right following the bend in the road up and around, and you’ll soon reach Stadio Romeo Galli, home of Imolese. A little tip at this juncture, don’t walk towards the stadium on the left hand pavement, easily done as a piece of race car sculpture will lead across the road for a keepsake. Both sides of the road are inexplicably heavily fenced off, perhaps to avoid anyone straying onto the road when significant wheels are being rolled into the circuit area. The fence goes on well beyond where you want to cross, and I say this from experience, resulting in fence climbing with quite a drop being needed as the clock was ticking and the game had just started.
Of course the ticket office was on the far side of the stadium, and feeling a seat on the sunny side was the best option (Distinti as opposed to Tribuna. There is no Curva at the Galli), it meant having to double back on my tracks before finally gaining access. I had plenty of time to mull over my options, as despite no ID needed for a ticket in Serie D, the couple in front of me had a right old chinwag with the only ticket selling chap through his low porthole. I missed maybe 10 minutes, but in truth I missed nothing, this would be one of the worst games I have ever seen in Italy.
Imolese might be a less familiar name to you, but they once graced Serie A. Okay it was in 1935, but a bit like the more common gig these days, it was a financial stretch too far, and for that era, going bust was an unusual thing, but back down to Serie D they fell as a result. The giddy highs of even Serie B have never been re-captured ever since, but following a promotion to the third tier in 2017/18, the confidence was high and they continued in that vein the next season finishing third. In the subsequent 28 team promotion play-offs they made it to the semi-finals. I caught them at Vicenza that season, it ranks as one of the worst games in my 110 plus roster of Italian games to date. Note to self, stop watching Imolese!
That was the club’s modern day high, and while they hung around in C, dodging relegation was a regular occurrence, coming as close as a late heartbreaking goal for Pistoiese to send them down to the joy of the locals. However the warnings weren’t read and last term they finally ended up going down themselves. The new campaign had opened brightly, a win in this clash with Bologna Corticella might have put them top, but in order to win games, you must fashion out opportunities, and on this point, and many others to be honest, Imolese were lacking.
Corticella is a small suburb of Bologna, in the northern area as you head out towards Ferrara or Padova. Playing in Serie D is a CV high for them, and last season they won the Girone D “play off”, but without a third tier ready facility they would have ranked pretty low in the 9 team list of “potential” promotion candidates, where only Casertana succeeded, but more often than not, none of them are considered. In this encounter, they started to show that form that propelled them to success last term, almost totally dominating the match and the ball, albeit with limited opportunities to score. Having thundered one against the bar, minutes later they fashioned the only goal in the early part of the second half. Corticella invited some Imolese pressure thereafter, but the local fans had largely gone comatose, somehow they knew this wasn’t going to be their day, and they were right.
The Romeo Galli stadium has a fabulously modern main stand which houses around three quarters of the 4,000 capacity, with just two temporary (quasi permanent) stands on the opposite side acting as the bleachers for the small vocal home support, and the other for any visiting garrison, although for this match, the small number who had ventured slightly south had vast swathes of the main stand to themselves. It is a municipal facility and has the obligatory running track around it. Some of the grandiose elements of a yesteryear style are still visible in places, and the whole place reeks of a Mussolini project back in the day.
Before or after a game here, if you have time, head slightly further away from the ground and race circuit stands following the path that brought you to the stadium in the first place. It will gradually lead you right alongside the race track and to a bend with a plaque on the outer side of the circuit wall. Here marks the spot where Aryton Senna crashed his race car and tragically died. A famous name in the racing world for sure, he must be, because even I know him!
Imola is a quiet, tidy city, and near the football stadium on the opposite side of the river, it shows itself as a monied place with many lavish houses on display. It will be a commuter town for Bologna as well, the proximity makes that highly likely, and indeed with so much football in the vicinity, chapeau to those who go and watch the local side rather than the lure of Serie A just up the road. That said, a true Italian fan wouldn’t cross the road to watch anyone but their own side, and I think that is a great quality. Groundhopping is a minority sport for a tiny number of Italians.
Getting there/Facilities
Imola is 20/25 minutes south of Bologna on the rail tracks headed further off towards Rimini, Ancona and beyond. Trains to these destinations will stop at Imola as long as it isn’t the high speed Frecciabianca or Frecciarossa variety, who won’t stop at such a small town. It has a considerable population of just under 70,000. The stadium is a good walk as straight as they come from station to action of around 3 kilometres, taking you through the heart of the city, offering places to stop for food or drinks en route, as the stadium facilities are limited, with nowhere available in the vicinity for a pre-match back slap with the home fans.
Football Adventures with James Rendall 