There was a moment of real shock when I learned of the passing of Salvatore ‘Toto’ Schillaci. Those in the know were aware he was ill, but it took me by surprise, a bit like when Paolo Rossi died. In many ways, the baton had passed from one to the other as the centre forward hero of Gli Azzurri, the Italian National team.
I had the privilege of being in Vicenza soon after Paolo died, just days after Gianluca Vialli had left us too. I made sure I visited the shrine in Genova to Gianluca that year, too. Both of these giants of Italian calcio I wrote about in a previous Football Weekends edition (No XX if you are interested in revisiting).
What made the passing of Schillaci so shocking was that he was just months older than me, and it just added to this increasing sense of live for today. You just never know when your number is up. The news of Toto dying broke on the morning of 18th September, brought to me courtesy of the Messina social media output. Here was I reading this dreadful news over breakfast on the island extension of Siracusa, Ortigia, on his island home, Sicily.
It was always my plan to be in Messina just days later for their Friday night clash in the third tier with Casertana. The whole escapade just took on a greater significance, and I wrote to Jim suggesting I could bring something poignant and immediate to the magazine, as I might well be the first from the UK to be in the city to pay respects. I was in anticipation of a shrine at the stadium.
Salvatore was a Sicilian boy, born in Palermo, but he never wore the classic pink shirt of his home city, courtesy of the club being unwilling to match the price from the other side of island, coming up short by 7 million lira (not as much as you’d think in old the old Italian currency, about £2,800). AC Messina saw something in the young striker with searing eyes and huge potential and outbid Palermo to take him from his local area youth team. He played for Messina for seven years, racking up more than 200 appearances and scoring 61 goals. Together, the giallorossi and Toto went on a journey, heading from the fourth tier to the top flight, for a solitary season visit in 1986/87.
At the tail end of his 1982 to 1989 period with Messina, when the club were back in B, Toto came under the guidance and spell of cult boss Zdenek Zeman. Together, they created some magic, and Schillaci’s reputation grew. The club had become an established part of Serie B, and his goals had come to the attention of the Serie A big boys. His move to Juventus would trigger a timely but short international career, where six of his seven goals would memorably come at Italia 90. Some of those goals and his celebrations will strike a cord with readers of a certain vintage. He won the top scorer award but would only score one more international goal after the competition. He is one of only six Sicilians who ever played for the national team.
The curious thing is, Salvatore played just one friendly before the World Cup, but despite not scoring, he was included in the squad. It was thought he would largely just be a fringe addition, an impact substitute. When he replaced Andrea Carnavale in Italy’s opening game, then subsequently scored the winner, a new hero was born. The rest of his Italia 90 story, along with Roberto Baggio, is now legendary, spoiled only by the Semi-Final defeat to Argentina in Napoli on penalty kicks.
It is debatable as to whether he was a huge success at Juve or subsequently Inter Milan, but bizarrely he rediscovered his Messina mojo in Japan with Jubilo Iwata where his 56 goals in 78 games is worthy of the accolade, prolific.
His first professional club, AC Messina have had so many ups and downs. My usual reference to snakes and ladders needs to plumb new depth for occasionally how far they have fallen. The era when Toto Schillaci was leading the line was almost the golden era for them. Certainly, they have never come close to Serie A since he departed. Indeed, a few years after he left for Juventus, the club would have one of those implosions. Even during the summer, strong rumours were circulating that the club might have to resign from Serie C. Thankfully, that didn’t transpire, and while they might be relying on more youth, Messina have made a reasonable start.
The San Filippo- Franco Scoglio stadium is by third tier standards enormous, with a capacity of 38,722. It is magnificently well appointed and in a spectacular location in the foothills of the mountains above the city. If, in the near future, should the club find the spirit of Toto, the ground would do Serie A proud. Whether the name changes upon Salvatore passing remains to be seen. Franco Scoglio was a club legend, too, as well as Genoa. Perhaps like in Vicenza, instead of renaming the ground, a statue will be commissioned. Given the extraordinary level of outpouring, I would like to think that a fan driven campaign will find a way to honour him and preserve his memory in and around the stadium. I know he was essentially a Palermo boy, retiring home in the Sicilian capital, but Paolo Rossi was a Tuscan lad, who played for others too, but at Lanerossi Vicenza his name was made, and this is the same story with Schillaci and Messina.
The city is, in many ways, the gateway to the mainland, with this northeast corner conurbation looking out across the Straits of Messina to Calabria, the toe of the mainland and the city of Reggio. From here, the boats whizz across, even carrying trains as they go. Just north of Messina, the gap between the two is so small, it must surely have been discussed the notion of a bridge, or even that Faroese classic, the under sea tunnel. Indeed, upon further investigation, this idea of a bridge has long been muted, but a combination of government, finance, and whisper it quietly, the mafia, has made sure it has never been built.
Messina is immediately picturesque. It hugs the flat hinterland between sea and mountains, running for a good number of kilometres along the bay and beyond. With a population close to a quarter of a million, this is the third city of the island, after Catania and Palermo.
In many ways, the city we see today is comparatively modern, especially when you consider the original city was nearly raised to the ground by a 7.1 rickter scale earthquake in 1908, with an astonishing 297 after shocks to make sure hardly anything was left standing. Some buildings survived, but the loss of so much has allowed the planners to design a lot of the city in a grid pattern similar to those found in the USA etc.
With the football club merely formed in 1900, the earthquake was its first major setback, albeit, unlike many other subsequent stories, this one wasn’t self-inflicted. The club is now known as ACR Messina, with the R standing for Riunite. A reminder of the clubs previous troubles with the hope being re-united that they stand together. This, as I would discover, is a bit of a Trojan Horse.
There was no shrine at Stadio San Filippo-Franco Scoglio to Toto, nor were their any Ultras either, as it turned out, caught in a dispute with the current owners, boycotting matches in a seeming attempt to oust a member of the board. Judging by a club statement following this encounter with Casertana, they aren’t just ignoring the fans calls, they are doubling down and backing their man. Two factions of fans were outside the ground, one sizable gang were incredibly high on the mountain above, lighting flares etc. How much they could actually see is up for debate, but everyone on the pitch would be no bigger than a Subbuteo player from such a height for sure. Another mob were outside the stadium, seeing nothing of the action banging drums, waving flags, and singing their songs. Such a pity, even more so on such a night, for Toto, it would have been appropriate if they had eased their dispute even this occasion. But no, sadly sometimes the Ultras think they are bigger than the club. They can be right, but they go too far.
I have seen this lunacy at Modena, Cesena, and Taranto as well, with the latter back being Ultra free once more this term. Things are kicking off at Roma now, too, following the hero boss, Daniele De Rossi being sacked.
The Campania side from Caserta were across the Straits of Messina for this poignant evening, and both sets of players came out with Toto tribute t-shirts. It seemed as if the Casertana fans were staying away, as none were in the stadium for the tribute or indeed the opening goal in under a minute. Fine play down the left saw a floated cross headed low into the bottom corner, with the keeper unsuccessfully flapping to keep it out. Within a minute, Casertana should have been level, but somehow, the forward blaised wide when it would have been easier to tap home.
It set tone for a thoroughly engrossing game. Ten minutes in, the away fans duly arrived, such a shame to travel so far and miss the start. No sooner had the Casertani got up to full voice, they were two down. A brilliantly timed run brought a one on one with keeper, complete with a sweet dink. The Messina fans in the stadium were delighted, even if singing was off roster. That aspect ruined the atmosphere, leaving fifty or so vocal visiting fans to fill the void.
Thankfully, the game was compelling without the usual fervour from the Curva. Messina maybe should have added to the lead ahead of the break, but they lead by two at the turn. Casertana had even made a substitution after thirty minutes, as the coach was understandably far from happy.
The game continued in the same jaunty fashion in the second half, but Casertana’s determination was more visible. After all, I have history on the road with them, they always win when I turn up. They duly got a goal back at the mid-point of the half, a flashing left foot drive after a clever run, and that encouraged them even more. Ten minutes later, when a penalty was awarded, the chance to equalise arrived. It struck the post, but the same chap lashed the rebound home. No one complained on the pitch, but confusion and anger were visible amongst the fans. It took a second look online at the replay to see that the keeper got the faintest touch, and that was why it stood. We were all square with 13 to play.
Both teams could have won it, but a draw was ultimately a fair result. On a night when Toto Schillaci was remembered, this was a game with enough attacking prowess that he would have been proud to be a part of it. Football has lost one of its great characters, RIP Salvatore.
Getting There
The stadium is a long way from the main central area, high above the city in the foothills of the mountains. It has plenty of access for cars, but it’s not so easy by any other means. Buses go along the coast and stop at the bottom of the hill. A tram goes halfway along, reducing a 7 kilometre walk by half, so all is possible.
There is no catering vans outside, and a very limited selection in the stadium. No souvenirs stall, and even the prescribed sports shop tie up in town from last season no longer exists. Like many Italian smaller clubs, it has gone online, but only for despatch to an Italian address usually. Somehow, they just haven’t caught on to the football tourism industry. A casual Italian fan just going to a random game is almost an alien concept.
Football Adventures with James Rendall 