The northern reaches of Italy have long had a checkered past. These are areas that have been nudged into the Italian realm, and where, especially under Mussolini, the right to utilise the native language wasn’t just frowned upon, it was banned. Yet, up in these pastures of Fruilia, Veneto and Trentino/Alto-Adige, Italian isn’t always the language of some of the natives. In Bolzano, or Bozen as the German speaker in their midst will attest, the architecture is very different, let alone the language. It has a Hapsburg Empire feel, and largely it is that dynasty and subsequent land grabs that left this confused state.
The curious nature of the Italian/Slovenia border sees Trieste as the only city in Italy where both languages are spoken. A little further up the border at Gorizia, the bridge that straddles the two countries, now all part of the Schengen zone, sees the Slovenian side, Nova Gorica, the previously annexed town easily accessible, albeit in a separate country. In Croatia, Rijeka, once known as Fiume, which was part of Italy until the Second World War.
I am always the biggest advocate of all things Italian, and I purposely got myself into an argument in a Bolzano shop with a German speaking shopkeeper, who took the huff because I asked for her strudel (hardly an Italian delicacy, granted) in Italian. The fact I kept speaking Italian sufficiently grated her for sure, but for the record, it was a lovely strudel.
The local side in Bolzano, now in Serie B, changed their name from Alto Adige to Sud Tirol, doubtlessly looking to cash in on this new found freedom, as well as draw potential new fans from the vast array of Germans who seem to travel to all corners of the continent just to get a new ground. The club badge used to carry the Italian and German name, but I note the Italian has sadly been dropped altogether now. The whole escapade is a total sham, though, as the announcements at the game are in Italian, and even the club match programme was largely in the main language of the country. It certainly is a curious juxtaposition.
CITTADELLA
A little south of Bolzano in the vast plains of Veneto, sits the quaint, walled town of Cittadella. While the wall is intact and surrounding the old part of the town, it’s such an imposing sight, yet conversely, such a thin construction, in parts it almost feels as if it was constructed for a movie recreation, which it certainly wasn’t, although Monty Python and the Holy Grail would have made good use of these ramps!
We are back into more solid Italian fiefdom territory though, where dawn raids on your neighbours was just part of normal life. With a population of just over 20,000 Cittadella is small, making their resolute ability to stay in the second tier of Italian football even more remarkable, and we will return to this astonishing track record shortly.
Inside the walled city you will find a laid-back town full of bars, restaurants and shops. There is nothing spectacular, save the wall in parts, with its four gateways named after the nearest cities in each direction, Padova, Vicenza, Treviso, and Bolzano. The former, Padova, is why this town grew in the first place, utilised as a garrison for the Padua army back in the day.
It appears on the surface to be a sleepy hollow, a sedate place for a policeman I am sure, and indeed, I know this for a fact, as my oldest chum from Italy, Andrea has transferred from the more bustling requirements of policing Padova, to Cittadella. He would be our host for the day, and evening, enjoying his company, sharing a match, as well as an array of local delights at lunch and evening meal time. It was a cracking day, interrupted only by substandard football action.
Catanzaro were in town, and while many would merely have travelled from their northern homes, it was good to see them out enjoying Cittadella ahead of the match rather being corralled and treated as human cattle as often seems the case in Italy. These were the early exchanges of the start of the season, with a new boss at the helm, Catanzaro hadn’t quite gelled yet, and were way off the lofty standards they had set as a newly promoted club the season before. Indeed, that old adage, the tricky second season syndrome was written all over their start to the campaign.
By contrast, Cittadella, a club only founded in 1973 have now spent almost as many seasons in Serie B as they have in any other league. They were first promoted to that lofty level in 1999, where confusingly I assumed they were a second team of Padova, as they moved to play there and seemed to be called Cittadella Padova. The reason for this was two fold, their home stadium was too small, and they tried to lure more fans to the club by playing in the bigger metropolis. They lasted just three seasons before heading back to C, and I am sure many thought that would be as good as it got. However, in 2007/08 they were back, having seen off Cremonese in a play-off to get back to the second tier.
This time efforts were made to get the Pier Cesare Tombolato stadium ready for Serie B, and after a few opening games played in Treviso, a first ever match at this level in Cittadella, took place in October 2008 against my charges Ancona. They survived that season and a good number of campaigns thereafter before heading down again in 2014/15. I am sure mutterings circled once more, that this was as good as it ever would be for i Granata (club nickname linked to maroon shirt). However, just two seasons later, in 2016/17, they were back, but this time, they were stronger and looking to challenge 3 A even! They haven’t left Serie B since.
In 2018/19, finishing fifth they reached the Play Off Final versus Hellas Verona, and headed to the Stadio Bentegodi with a handy 2-0 first leg lead. Alas, trailing 1-0, a red card made the task a tad trickier, and the Verona club eased over the line 3-2 on aggregate. They reached the final a couple of seasons later again, this time versus a different Veneto opponent, Venezia, but once again they came up short of the trees.
For such a small club, without the financial clout of Sassuolo for example, Serie A might be a stretch too far. They would never be able to play at home, and asking fans to travel excessive distances to see home matches can have a debilitating effect on support. Wages need to rise, and while income might also go up, invariably it becomes more challenging. It doesn’t in the case of Cittadella smack of a lack of ambition, on the contrary being in Italy’s second tier is an achievement in itself, and for so long, it is testimony to how brilliantly the club are run.
Having said all that, while Catanzaro were having teething problems, Cittadella had the feeling that this astonishing period in B had maybe run its course. When two teams so badly out of form collide, it has all the ingredients for a dreadful game, and oh boy, that was the case. Hats off to the crammed in, enthusiastic away fans, whose support was unwavering, and whose noise was the only thing that kept some of us from our slumbers. Yes, a small knot of home Ultras tried their best across in the opposite stand, but they were largely drowned out. In a game that had 0-0 written all over it, late on Catanzaro did score, only for VAR to take it away, and as both sets of players shook on it, I was worried that both clubs would be filling the relegation slots co e May, but how wrong would I be.
Catanzaro soon got the game plan of the new manager, and have become one of the most entertaining teams in the league. Cittadella continued to struggle, but quietly and without any fuss or drama, just how they like it around here, watched the points, if not the goals scored, start to increase, and safety is within grasp, albeit the relegation fight in Serie B is a multiple club experience and will go to the last day.
GETTING THERE
We took the train from Vicenza, perhaps the nearest mainline station. About an hour north. The Cittadella station is on the opposite side of the old walled town from the stadium, but still a relatively leisurely walk if you are making a daytrip here. There isn’t really much to make an overnighter worthy, unless due to a later kick off.
CATERING
Behind the stands, inside the ground, refreshment stalls are available, with drinks. Beer and limited snacks. Alas no merchandising was spotted.
TRENTO
A little further west and north, lies the sumptuous city of Trento, basking in the foothills of the lower dolomites. Carry on up this train line from Verona and you’ll find yourself in the dual language world of Bolzano, but here in Trento, it all seems reassuringly Italian.
The mountains are so close and stunning. It makes for an epic backdrop. The architecture of the city is a lavish mixture of Italian alpine and that Habsburgian/Germanic look. Trento is acknowledged as one of the best cities in Italy for quality of life, standard of living, and business opportunities. In 2023, it was ranked third, as well as being one of the most affluent and sustainable cities in the country. Perhaps a whiff of that more organised northerly history has helped it stand out from the more chaotic Italian way that forms part of the country’s charm in many ways.
Curiously, local affluence doesn’t always translate into a successful football team, and perhaps with a lot more free income than many, heading off to ski, travel or hillwalk/mountaineer, might just be some of the many reasons why AC Trento aren’t a bigger success. With a population six times the size of Cittadella, and without a Serie B campaign on the CV, it spells out even more what a remarkable effort has taken place along the road.
Indeed Trento in its latest guise is a relatively new club, having fallen into those pesky bankruptcy traps, going against the grain of a well organised business city. The club has fought its way back through the regional leagues and found its level for now in the lower half of Serie C. However, the current season is seeing them in with a real shout of scrambling to a nice high finish and perhaps the opportunity to progress a round or two in the end of season 28 team play offs. Perhaps seeing Sud Tirol up the road succeed and watching Cittadella along the way, constantly showing true grit and determination, is beginning to seep into the Trento psyche. Finally, the locals want a slice of that pie.
Stadio Briamasco has been home to the club since its inception in 1921, and while buffed up a lot since those days, an awful lot of the stands are those classic quasi permanent scaffold affairs. The main stand is relatively modern, and its seating both colourful and adequate for the size of crowds headed in to watch Trento. With a capacity just shy of 5,000, it is short of requirements for Serie B, and whether there is room for redevelopment is up for debate. The proximity of the mainline train tracks certainly make adding much at the away end a tricky thing. I guess temporary groundsharing in Bolzano or Verona might be possible, but the club would have to break the habit of a lifetime to get to that point. At least in Serie C, Sud Tirol puffed the chest out and basically said with their developments, we want to go higher, and pretty soon thereafter, they did.
Pergolettese were in town for a Friday night game under the lights, which meant the backdrop mountains weren’t a photographic or visual feature for this encounter, but a day match here would be a vision of beauty, even if the game let you down. The visitors were from Crema in Lombardia, not a huge distance away, but only a handful of fans made the journey. The Pergolettese shirt is a natty thing, predominantly white, with a solitary strip of yellow and blue down the badge side of the kit. It could easily be a Leeds United shirt of yesterday, I salute the originality.
For the home side, with that Teutonic eagle on the badge, a reminder of the past, embellished and embraced in a statue and carpet that both sides walk by as they enter the field. This game took a while to warm up. Trento were marginally the better side, but constantly hit the buffers of a well organised away side, whose solitary first half ambition seemed to be kick the ball as far forward as possible when given the chance and see if they could chase it down. The half ended with a smack of the Pergolettese crossbar, a portent of more exciting things to come.
The contrast between the two halves could not have been greater. Games like this sometimes just need a goal to light the touch paper, and when it arrived, a fine dribble and shot from the edge of the box warmed the appreciation of the home fans as Trento took the lead. It was the signal for a change of tactics from the visitors, who all of a sudden demonstrated that they had the ability to play through the channels and create. They quickly tested the Trento keeper and might have noted that he was prone to spilling the ball forward. He got away with it a couple of times as Pergolettese pressed forward, but on the third spill, a quick thinking forward was on hand to thrash the ball by the strewn keeper for the equaliser.
The game didn’t settle into the first half pattern, on the contrary, it sparked even more furious forward endeavours at both ends, but no one had the poise or the skill to find a winner, and the referee brought us to a close at 1-1. As the temperature continued to fall, the rousing nature of the game had taken away any thoughts of the cold. Plus, my modern hotel was just five minutes away behind the home end, and a nice hot shower was calling me. Alas, this is Italy, and why would you make such a short journey when you would need Google maps to negotiate the railway tracks and a route that ultimately took 25 minutes. It defies belief to be honest that the police had closed off the road in that direction. Instead, everyone had to walk along, by the away end, where the small knot would be required to stay until the home fans had cleared. I was livid. On a night when not a whiff of violence was in the air, to be so utterly pedantic is beyond words. Why do it? Because they can basically! A show of strength, of organisation, I have no idea. I would say however at this juncture, Italy has a very right wing government now, and making people feel safe is part of its mantra. A new level of policing seems to have been added to a heavy police state, and if you get approached at a railway, or bus station for an ID check, for no good reason, this is what is happening. A lot of top derby matches are seeing away fans banned too in the lower leagues, a great travesty of modern thinking.
It left a sour taste having such a lengthy hike to the hotel on the night after an entertaining game. The next day, I was able to enjoy the alpine splendour and ornate charm of the city, where after a good night’s sleep, as ever, any ills that Italy might wish to throw at me get quickly brushed under the carpet, and my love-hate relationship with Bella Italia quickly returns to love!
GETTING THERE
Trains north from Verona stop here, and these can be fast or slower trains depending on your price range and timing. Again it can be a day trip, where the central area of the city and a game can be enjoyed. However, unlike Cittadella, Trento has more to offer if you are looking to stay.
The Briamasca stadium is a 20/25 minute walk to the right as you come out of the station, seeing a McCaig’s Folly (one for the Scottish readers) high on a mountain immediately after the station.
CATERING
It’s one of these silly queues at a hut to tell them what you want, then queue to get it affairs. Nothing other than beer/drinks or a sausage or a sandwich really. A gazebo sits outside the main stand selling scarves and old shirts, and they even let you nip out the gates at half-time to have a look if you want, but that is largely to encourage smokers to stand outside as the area behind the stand is quite tight for space.
Football Adventures with James Rendall 