Let’s get the elephant in the article right out from the off, I am divorced from the top end of football. The owners, the salaries, the need to continually win, or at the very least make the top money spinning European competition, make it a business and not a sport. The players have lost all sense of reality, and rarely get involved in any local community assistance unless it is staged.
My own “smaller” team Inverness CT now find themselves at loggerheads with it fanbase over relocation of the training camp, which might signal the loss of community, but that should not necessarily be the case. In the meantime, these huge money-making (and financially cheating) clubs have long lost any sense of keeping it sensible, let alone local, which is why I don’t watch any of them.
This tale will never see a printed version. I am merely putting out tales as a way of amusement on this latest dreary spring day. Frosinone’s unexpected demise means that Serie A 2024/25 leaves just two unvisited stadiums in the top flight. While Stadio Olimpico Grande in Torino might get a visit one day, I will never complete the full set, as I have long binned Juventus, and especially ever encouraging them by giving them my money. The buying of referees wasn’t even subtle, I still fume at decisions in a match with Parma, where an honest ref would have seen the Emilia-Romagna side win a Scudetto. In those giddy days of Parma in the late nineties, they certainly deserved a domestic title to go with their numerous European trophies. A hardening or a distancing was needed to retain a sense sanity, with the Glasgow gruesomes, PSG, Manchester City, and Newcastle United all on the banned list with Juve.
I have written about clubs as big as Napoli before, but anything beyond that has been skipped. The three stadiums on offer here have all had at least two visits, with the last offering perhaps merely an act of folly to have been included in a batch tale of a genuine football weekend. It didn’t do the Renata Dall’Ara justice. Bologna’s stunning 2023/24 season sees them start nibbling at the Champions League table, and rightly the club will delight in that, but in their case this is a true reward for punching above expectations, and no more than that.
San Siro, Milano
My first visit to the grand old stadium of Milan was in the months ahead of the 1990 World Cup. I was lured here to cheer for Cesena, who were fighting hard to survive in Serie A. There was no chance of getting in amongst the visiting fans, but I bought an unused season ticket for the home Gradinata being touted at a knock down price by the ticket booths. It was hoped that I wouldn’t get rumbled! Buying a ticket was so much easier to snag a brief, largely chuck some Lira, the Euros into a low porthole, and a resplendent ticket would be forthcoming.
These were the German days of Inter, with Brehme, Mattheus, and Klinsman all playing for the Nerazzurri. Despite Argentina versus Cameroon as the opening World Cup match being just three months away, the San Siro pitch was threadbare and dry. It was great being here though. Live television was just becoming a thing, but seeing those iconic twisty corner walkways for the first time was magical.
There was a magic moment in the game too, and it was so unexpected that I lost sight of needing to sit on my hands. Massimo Agostini had broken free and thumped home an equaliser for Cesena. My reward for showing my colours was to have the remnants of a Coca-Cola poured down my back! Nothing was going to detract me from being happy with Cesena securing a vital point.
Two weeks later (having been at my first game in Ancona in between), I was at the Luigi Ferraris in Genova ahead of being back for the altogether more angst ridden Scotland v Costa Rica match a few months later. On this particular visit, Cesena toughed out a penultimate weekend 0-0 draw with Sampdoria, who were at the peak of their powers with Vialli and Mancini leading the line. A very rare missed penalty by Gianluca Viali assisted the Seahorses to get away with a draw, but upon the full-time whistle, as the corner scoreboard flashed up Hellas 1-0 AC Milan, to a man they all collapsed on the grass! It meant Hellas jumped above Cesena in the bid for survival, but in a twist of brilliant scheduling, the two would meet on the final day, down at the Dino Manuzzi. A solitary goal from Agostini was enough for Cesena to stay up, sending the Verona club down, and into a freefall for a number of seasons, a far cry from winning the Scudetto just 5 years earlier.
Sixteen years later, I was back for my first and to date only ever Champions League group match. Alvaro Recoba was at the height of his powers, and he truly turned it on that night. Spartak Moscow hung in there, but they were all at sea at times, unable to cope with his mazy runs. It was perhaps the most impressive performance by one player I have ever witnessed in a live match. The Chinaman has always been a hero of mine, but that performance cemented it completely. His brace was enough to win the game, although the 2-1 score suggests a closer match than the reality.
There would then be another fourteen year hiatus until I was back at the San Siro again. In the interim, I had caught up with Inter away at Empoli and Cesena, but a first ever Football Weekends magazine trip to Italy saw me heading back to the old girl. With rumours rife that its days might be numbered, it seemed like the perfect excuse. The hotel was very close to the San Siro, so I decided to do the stadium tour the day before the game. It is an iconic venue, full of history and home to two of the most successful clubs in World football. The museum area captures many of those glorious days of both clubs, as well as many memories of the national team at the stadium too.
I arrived direct from Lecco v Vicenza in a taxi, as you do, alighting just moments before the teams took to the field, so I didn’t have an opportunity to soak in the build up, but the rest of the FW gang seemed unimpressed as to how long it took to get in. It was maybe ideal, arriving minutes ahead of the game, I sailed in! This wasn’t a great game, Martinez struck early, and while Hellas huffed and puffed, they could have played all night and failed to score. I was delighted to see Lautaro Martinez score as he is the main man for Inter these days as well as being a Racing boy through and through. It ended 1-0, Inter had just done enough, oddly a phrase I have often used with regard to their games I have seen, save that Recoba display.
Alvaro and Lautaro are both members of my pantheon of footballing greats, and another ex-Inter striker, Diego Milito, is right up there, too. I saw him play for Inter at Cesena in April 2011, less than a year after he had won the Champions League for the Nerazzurri, cementing his cult status beyond just my appreciation. He didn’t score that day, largely I wanted Cesena to win, and they would hold a 1-0 lead going into injury time, only for Pazzini to score twice to break the spirit of the home side. I did, however, have the honour of seeing Diego play his last ever Copa Libertadores match in El Cilindro, Avellaneda, with the Racing boy was back home, a returning hero.
Stadio Olimpico, Roma
This stadium was buffed up considerably for the 1990 World Cup, including roofing the entire stadium as one of the major improvements. It became a well versed televisual delight with Schillaci and Baggio, in particular scoring fabulous goals en route to heading south to Maradona’s Napoli, and that mixed message crowd at the San Paolo that didn’t help the Azzurri cause.
Martin and I rumbled into the stadium for the last match of the 1992/93 season, having done a two week tour of Italy that included the rare delight of seeing Ancona, not only in Serie A but winning a belter 5-3 versus Pescara on my first visit to new Del Conero stadio. It was all cleverly scheduled as Martin is an Udinese boy, and on the middle weekend, they hosted Ancona, who sadly were already relegated. Udinese didn’t just need that win, but they would also require to pick up something from Roma.
That was the scenario for an evening match in the Olimpico. It is a superb stadium, albeit the running track pushes the atmosphere further away. Unbeknown to us, and maybe everyone bar those in the know, at 1-1 when Andrea Carnevale rounded the keeper but gave him every opportunity to recover his position and the ball, the ruse was up. The stadium united on all sides, home and away, this was going to end in a draw and Roma had chosen, Udinese were safe at the expense of Fiorentina. The Tuscan capital side were thumping Foggia 6-2, but it didn’t matter a jot. It was a moment that tipped Viola over the edge, and they ended up as Florentia the following season in Serie C2, the fourth tier.
Nearly thirty years on in November 2022, I was back! It acted as the second part of a rare Italian double bill after heading out to Monterotondo for my first sighting of Casertana. In many regards, that was the pinnacle of the day, but I was still captivated by the near full Olimpico for the visit of Lecce. The Jose Mourinho gig truly has rejuvenated Roma. They got away with one here, as a well organised Puglian visitor increasingly showed menace, and when they took the lead with less than twenty minutes to go, the unwavering support was wobbling. The game crept into added time, and Lecce were still leading, but two late, late strikes sent the Olympico wild. It was harsh on Lecce, but perhaps the early signs that Mou’s overly cautious tactics weren’t a natural fit to a club more renowned for an expansive style. I am always a man who likes to see the underdog excel, and like Cesena v Inter, I left a tad disappointed.
Renata Dall’Ara, Bologna
As a Cesena sympathiser, this sticks in the throat a little, but Bologna are back. The seven time Scudetto winners have had a lengthy fallow period, but Thiago Motta has carried on from his fine coaching at Spezia to build on what the late, great Sinisa Mihajlovic had started in the Emilia Romagna capital. In many ways it was Sinisa’s arrival that eased my angst about Bologna.
Curiously, after many visits to Bologna, my first trek out to the Dall’Ara was only in 2016, for a game that saw Sinisa sitting in the visitors dugout as Torino won a stinker 1-0. It was truly an awful end of season fayre by two sides who were safe and were just going through the motions. However, what a beautiful stadium. The Mussolini excesses of the tower and portico design behind that side of the ground are a real treat.
There was a need to be here and a wish to pay homage to possibly the greatest day in Ancona’s CV when a Serie B 1-1 draw on the last day of the 1991/92 season took us to Serie A. I had been at two matches in the lead up to that occasion, where beating Messina 2-0 routinely had been preceded the week before by a bizarre 2-2 draw with Pescara. Both clubs would end up going to Serie A, but the referee tried to rumble the gentlemen’s agreement for the tie between them by awarding Ancona a penalty. While it was duly dispatched, the celebration was oddly mute, and Stefano as well the majority in the Curva at the fabulous old Del Conero just sat down?! Sure enough, minutes later, Pescara pulled level courtesy of comedy half-hearted defending that allowed the guy to score. Ironically, Pescara benefitted from this draw more than Ancona, and they had clinched promotion before we had to take 10,000 to Bologna for a party in the rain, which was set alight by a Franco Ermini goal, another hero.
On my first visit to the Dell’Ara stadium, I had to make sure I was as close to the away end as possible. It was a wonderful moment to recall the images I had seen many times over when Ancona celebrated here. Despite what was on offer in front of me on the day I was there, the recollections were more important than the unfolding drivel.
I did make sure I paid tribute to Sinisa at Bologna when he was still managing the club but starting to struggle with his cancer treatment. Sadly, he was advised to stay away from Reggio Emilia when I pitched up to watch the Serie A tussle with Sassuolo. You could feel the love for him in the away end that night. Watching from his hospital bed back in Bologna, he would have been proud of his charges. I am sure Sinisa is looking down with pride at how Motta has overseen the club, making sure is kicks on.
My second match here was almost by accident. I had a couple of days before meeting Tania in Roma en route to Salerno and Positano, so I decided to base myself in Bologna. It was an International weekend, with the lower leagues yet to start, so football might have been impossible. I was writing for Football Weekends by then and always on the lookout for a game. A pre-season friendly became a charity fundraiser for the Genova bridge disaster at La Spezia between the local side and Sampdoria at the quaint Picco stadium. It’s quite a train trek from Bologna, but I managed that even if my return via Parma had ticked beyond midnight when I got back to the hotel.
The night prior, my good fortune was Italy played their first ever Nation’s League match at the Dall’Ara just a few weeks after the Russian World Cup. I only discovered this choice of venue weeks before heading across, but I was needless to say, delighted.
Poland are a well supported team wherever they play, and thousands of the red and white army were in Bologna for this one. As you’d expect, the beer consumption in the main square was as rapid as it was extraordinary. The mood was jovial, and it added colour and curiosity to the throngs of Asian tourist groups snapping away.
The stadium was close to full too, where a re-build phase was starting for Mancini, but it was Poland who looked a more complete unit. Zielinski had Polska ahead before half-time to the joy of the travelling thousands, but with more seasoned Azzurri players gradually introduced, Italy became more dangerous. It would take a penalty for the hosts to claim a draw, but it was a nice occasion and a pleasure to see Italy play an International at home.
Three great stadiums, and the memories therein. I hope you enjoyed my wee trip down memory lane.
Football Adventures with James Rendall 