Lower Puglia

Regular readers will know I love Italy. I am not so inured in its ways to defend its every nuance, far from it, but if someone asked me what’s your favourite country, the answer writes itself.

The contrast from Northern European ways makes for a pleasant change in Italy, but it requires a mindset change to fully appreciate the more laidback Mediterranean world. Over the years, I have found myself edging further and further south in Italy. This was initially partly due to curiosity, coupled with a wish to know what people in Lombardia, Veneto, or beyond would refer to as “the south”. Those inaugural visits started to pull at the heart strings, a reminder if you will, of how it used to be “up north” in Italy back in the early ‘80’s when I first set foot on Italian soil, just days before Italy won the 1982 World Cup! How that left an indelible mark. 

Over the years, perhaps borne of the sheer volume of tourism, a certain fatigue exists in areas of Italy these days, largely in swatches of the country from Roma headed north. I get that, but the contrast sees a dividing line exist now, (perhaps it always has existed), where the southern regions of Abruzzo, Molise, Campania, Calabria, Basilicata, Sicilia and Puglia have a more welcoming warmth that has sadly been lost elsewhere.   

Now I am sure the driving inspiration for any given trip isn’t exactly whether you’ll be greeted by an enthusiastic waiter, barman, or hotel receptionist, but it does help. In an era where everyone is increasingly caught up in their own world, a little helpfulness and appreciation do add colour to any given location.

I am sold on the joy of the south these days, ready to fight its corner and do battle with northern chums who haven’t even ventured that far south due to pre-conceptions in some circumstances. I get that the northern regions have more history and in many regards a greater variety of beauty, but while the whole aesthetic is unquestionable, the more rounded experience of travel, complete with human interaction, remember that old chestnut, combined with location, sees the beautiful south winning for me these days.

Puglia in particular is right now enjoying a tourist boom. TV chefs amongst others from the UK have been flocking this way, largely having rinsed the north, and perhaps delighting in the greater charm and appreciation in the south of “nonna’s” (granny’s) cuisine. It is a huge region, stretching from the lower calf to the heel of Italy’s boot if you will, culminating in a significant area of land full of beauty and inspiration.

In recent years, especially post covid, it has become my go-to area of Italy. I never had the chance previously to entertain the notion of staying for any great length of time anywhere, but now my carer duty days are behind me, it became a thing. I had two places in mind where I would base myself, but given Salerno had hosted my big birthday earlier in the year, Brindisi was where I would find myself for a whack of the early autumn in the hope of pushing the end of summer further down the road.

Such a lengthy stay would give me the opportunity to sample football at any number of the nine levels of Italian football. I decided to set the bar at the level six to four for this article. Almost every club in the region from C and above, you will read my notes on before. These three small cities and clubs have been higher in the pyramid and desire to get back to the glory days.

1- Molfetta – Puglia Promozione – Level Six

For Molfetta to have more than three football teams is quite extraordinary. 57,000 isn’t enough to do any of them justice, and with them all now in the sixth tier, or lower frankly, the situation is embarrassing, or from a rival Bisceglie perspective, positively hilarious. The main team, and in truth, the only one with a genuine fanbase, takes its name from the town alone, Molfetta Calcio. It has been a while since they found themselves this far down the pecking order.

The stadium is a municipal facility, the Paolo Poli, which also plays host to Borgorosso, Sportivo Molfetta, and the other local clubs. Its proximity to the sea and the iconic stand make it a football photographers delight of a venue.

Molfetta is a nice fishing town, with the area around the harbour extremely photogenic and full of reasonably priced restaurants with a magnificent variety of fish on offer. The more adventurous tourist will daytrip out from Bari to visit (about 30 minutes north), but generally, like Bisceglie, the next town headed north, these are proper Italian places, with the genuine air of Puglia in all its glory

I have had the pleasure of seeing two matches at the Poli previously, and on my first visit, Borgorosso banged in 8 without reply against a truly hapless young Trani side. I thought it was likely to remain the biggest score I would ever witnessed in Italy for the rest of my days, and while it remains the largest margin of victory, this match would present a 9 goal thriller!

Molfetta had eluded my viewing roster, so seeing them host Lucera from near Foggia in a sixth tier clash whilst enjoying seeing them struggle this low in the pyramid seemed like a plan.

I am naughty, I know, but if you stick your tail on the side from just up the road, in this case, AS Bisceglie, a rival is a rival. Indeed, when these two go head to head, not only are away fans sadly banned largely, the sheer energy the players dedicate to not losing to their main rival can be detrimental and distracting to everything else that goes on.

Two years ago, Bisceglie beat Molfetta, only on a higher league placing after a gruelling goalless draw, to progress in the playoffs. They made it all the way to the promotion final in Amalfi but collapsed in the second half. One of the staff at Bisceglie, earlier this year when discussing that match with me, sighted the lack of energy being borne of the effort required to get beyond Molfetta! They had played four matches subsequent to that derby.

It was an 11.00 kick-off versus Lucera, allowing for two games to be enjoyed that day. Lucera are a club I was familiar with, but only courtesy of a now sadly deceased friend, who had been at a wedding there many years ago. He had been to see them play but couldn’t recall who they were playing. All he knew was that it was a 1-1 draw and the date of the nuptials. Given that it was his only ever game in Italy, I did some research and passed on the information so that he could add the game to his Futbology roster. He was quite chuffed, I had managed to fill in the blank for him. In his honour, I would use this fixture to toast Bob, as well as giving me a reasonable excuse to find myself not cheering for Molfetta again!

Well, if Bob was watching from above, he would have delighted in what unfolded here. It was an extremely open game, with Lucera tickling two fine goals to take a strong position. A penalty brought Molfetta back, giving them heart for the fight in the second half. However, the visitors had other ideas and re-established the two goal lead.

Something odd then happened when Molfetta, instead of going for it, brought on another defender. That said, the genuis boss had them back within one goal at 2,3. What then took place was an utter dismantling of the Molfetta defence, who all of a sudden looked as if they couldn’t defend a fun size Mars Bar from a kid, as Lucera calmly and every five minutes or so, picked them off for a final 2-7 score!

Now, you will have recalled. I suggested I might never see 8 goals in an Italian game again, but here I was, back at the same venue, and it had beaten its own record with nine goals. This was a very serious moment in the downward history of Molfetta calcio. If there hasn’t been one already, the reckoning after this debacle could be colossal.

2-Brindisi – Puglia Eccellenza- level 5

This is the city I would call home for a period in the autumn of 2025, beautiful Brindisi. It’s just one of these unfathomable things, almost a city that chose me, rather than the other way around. Although, did a Ben Okri documentary of a train journey from London to a mythical area in Greece called Arcadia slip into my mind and reverberate before I ever even set foot in the south? I suspect he did inadvertently add to my curiosity, but given the travel show was decades before I ever set foot in Brindisi, it certainly had left its mark. Anyone familiar with Ben’s work will know he is a poet as well as a talented author. The only reason he was in Puglia was due to the Yugoslavian war, which prevented his passage down through the Balkans. Any frustration he might have had regarding that notion evaporated when he discovered Brindisi had been home to Virgil, the ancient poet. Such was his animation upon this discovery, Brindisi took on a charm all of its own. It stayed with me and doubtlessly influenced my immediate affinity with the city, but then again, I am less Virgil inclined and more drawn to the port city aspect. 

I had the pleasure of regaling this tale to Ben at a book signing years ago in Edinburgh, where it didn’t seem as if he was pressured into moving onto the next in line. We had a truly engrossing conversation that might have grown mythical qualities had the opportunity to shoot the breeze further on the joys of Brindisi been possible. All I know is that I will never tire of returning to this city.

Brindisi calcio have been on a journey themselves, rarely taking a breath to enjoy any given level, going 5-4-3-4-5 in some sort of horrific rollercoaster ride. Long forgotten perhaps is the clawing back of Cavese in Serie D four years ago now, where a one off playoff between the two, saw Brindisi reach the professional ranks of Serie C, only for it all to unravel, and fast. The stadium, the now magnificent Franco Fanuzzi (capacity 7,622) wasn’t immediately up to standard, and the money required to get it third tier compliant perhaps saw the player budget hampered. They started horribly and it just ebbed away. I saw them twice in 2022/23 and on both occasions the visitors romped home easily. Brindisi didn’t look like they could burst a paper bag, and they didn’t.

Last term saw them slapped with a fourteen point deduction for non payment of salaries in C the previous term. They were slow to get on the front foot, perhaps borne of a team used to losing, but gradually, they did claw it back and even got out of the automatic drop places. However, Italy’s play-out rules deem that if a gap of 8 points or more exists between the clubs who would get involved, the lower side is relegated. That is what happened to Brindisi, whose penchant for a 2-2 draw finally caught up with them. They had some truly agonising matches where goals were conceding deep into added time to throw away the win, something that became commonplace. Just one more positive result would have given them that play-out match-up and considering their end of season form, I have no doubt they would have won it and stayed up.

As it is, the Puglia Eccellenza is a car crash of ambitious clubs this term. They are a bunch of clubs that really shouldn’t be this far down the roster. Bisceglie are another in that category, my Puglian club, who I would see host Brindisi at this level a couple of weeks later. For this article, the visitors to Brindisi for a Thursday afternoon joust were Taranto, undoubtedly the biggest of the trio at this level.

I last set eyes upon Taranto in September 2024 in Caserta for a third tier encounter. I knew the club was in trouble but hadn’t expected weeks later that they would be expelled from the league, along with Turris from Torre Del Greco. It remains my only viewed match ever to subsequently not exist in the history books, as their results were expunged! Mr Gravina, the FIGC governor seemed to have a particular axe to grind with Taranto and was looking to throw them to the 8th tier as an example to those who would continue to overspend and abandon ship when times were hard.

Taranto are a psychiatrists chair gig in itself, a troubled club for decades, with another of these fan bases that seems to view the historical CV of attaining Serie B many a year ago as something worthy of lording over everyone else. I have a degree of sympathy with Taranto, pushed out of their fabulous home ground, stadio Nuovo Erasmo Iacovone, while it gets seriously buffed up and altered significantly for the 2026 hosting of the Mediterranean Games. A new club, SS Taranto, eventually found backers who were willing to pay the necessary and lofty FIGC bond to allow them to play at the 5th tier level this term. An early season Coppa Italia- Puglia clash with Brindisi was going to tell us a lot about the state of both, and from a Bisceglie perspective, a chance to weigh up the opposition ahead of huge head to head encounters coming down the tracks.

Before I set off, I watched the first leg of this tie online from the comfort of my home in Edinburgh. Taranto are playing in Massafra this term, a distance from the city, but not a burdensome trek like Sorrento to Potenza every second week, for example. As you would expect, it was a tight contest. Brindisi looked the more composed side, and even going down to ten didn’t phase them unduly. However, Taranto created the better chances, and only some superb goalkeeping and the post prevented the home team from taking a lead to Brindisi. It was nicely set up for a very tense and entertaining match.

Well, I don’t think much catches me out in football these days, but the second leg of this cup tie at the Fanuzzi is worthy of a comedy award all of its own. It started with the mere purchasing of a ticket. The Brindisi social media said where to buy them and gave the times. I had an hour window on the first morning of sales and walked out to the gas showroom selling them. They were meant to be on sale at 9 am. I arrived quarter after the hour, and the door was locked. Like others who were less sedate on arrival, we hung around. By 10, I had a train to catch and left. I would venture back on match day morning to get my ticket. A truly magnificent ticket, it is too, almost laminated, a fine bookmark.

The ticket will forever be a reminder of my first ever, and hopefully only ever forfeit match! Taranto had done it again to me. A boycott of the Ultras to spoil my visit to the Iacovone, then expelled as per above chat, and now a forfeit in my three game ‘viewing’ roster! Allegedly, a stomach bug had claimed a few players the day before, and the club representatives failed to show for their own press conference! It was a signalling of intent maybe, but they didn’t ask for a postponement in time and couldn’t provide proof a said sickness bug in the camp. So, when I arrived at the Fanuzzi, a lot of people were milling around outside. I thought they were being slow opening the gates, but they were letting folk in.

I duly entered and bought a beer. In the stand, people were gathered, and the TV pundits were on the pitch chatting. Then, by kick-off, no teams emerged. The odd Brindisi player appeared and went in again. Maybe 25 minutes of this, then they all appeared to rapturous applause and started training. It transpired that Taranto weren’t in Brindisi. They had finally asked for a postponement, but too late. Unlike in Estonia with Scotland or further back Chile without Russia (a moment TV footage that left an indelible mark on me as a youngster) at least these games had the farce of the game kicking off with no opposition. Here, once 45 minutes had elapsed, the referee appeared, signalled it was over, and everyone left, mostly happy, I guess. Brindisi thought that they would be awarded the tie with a 3-0 win, and Taranto were out, but an appeal was upheld, and three weeks later, the game was rescheduled. I was still living in Brindisi, so I got the chance to see this one through to its conclusion.

The match, when it finally happened, was a cracker. Quite how Taranto won remains a mystery, but given all the nonsense surrounding the first attempt, etc, it had a feeling of inevitability. Brindisi, who had gifted two own goals to aid a Canosa comeback at the weekend in a 2-2 draw, and were at it again. Midway through the first half, they invariably scored Taranto’s winning goal. They created so many chances to get level, but largely dreadful finishing was the reason it ended 0-1. The pitch didn’t help.

In four matches now, when I am in the stadium, Brindisi have failed to score. I am developing a complex, but they are a team I want to see do well. I love the city.

3- Fasano – Serie D- Level 4

This was a completely new experience for me. In many of my Puglian shuffles, the train has pulled into Fasano and then headed north or south with me still on board.

Città di Fasano, to give them the full and proper name are almost the classic modern-day staple of the fourth tier in Puglia, along with Martina Franca, Nardo, and today’s opponents, Gravina, who thankfully are nothing to do with the FIGC President. I suspect Gravina Calcio are more popular! 

Fasano have started the season in great fettle and led their league (Girone), where, if they can keep things going, it would lead to a rare step up to the third tier.

Fasano is on the Bari to Lecce regional rail track and has a lot to compete with places on this line. In truth, tourists will forego this town, preferring to alight at Polignano a Mare, Monopoli, Ostuni, or the aforementioned Brindisi. It is a town slightly off the Puglian coast, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t without its charm. Indeed, the central area of Fasano has that delightful Puglian charm, complete with the classic marble roads and pavements like others nearby. It has a genuine Italian feel, although the close proximity to Alberobello and Locorotondo will see tourists pass through Fasano en route.

I was tight for time for this clash.

The Stadio Vito Curlo is around 3 kilometres from the mainline railway station. Indeed, Fasano itself is 2 km from this stop, and the road leading between has neither a pavement and is extremely busy. The bar across from the station will sell you a ticket for bus 206, which sits just to the right of the entrance to the station and will whisk you into town.

Despite this cup tie for fourth tier sides being held on a Wednesday afternoon at 3pm, a good crowd was in, all wrapped up against a bitingly cold wind, despite the sun.

From the off, Fasano looked the slicker side, but especially in the early exchanges, Gravina had enthusiasm, if not considerable skill, to unlock the home rearguard. As it was, No.44 Penza, my man of the match, had a terrific run towards goal, but unselfishly knocked it out to the right for No.88 Lagzir to blow the easier option of shooting, but he dragged the ball back inside then unleashed an unstoppable shot to give Fasano a deserved led. Just ahead of half-time, Penza whacked in a second, and it looked all over for Gravina.

The second half wasn’t great. The visitors didn’t have the ability to fight back or seemingly the will. Fasano kept plugging away, but just when it seemed likely, it would remain 2-0, No.44 fed No.77 this time, Stauciuc, and he tickled it home at the far post. The icing on the cake, as Fasano go marching on into the last 32 of the competition, where ties will soon become more national, rather than regional for rounds 1 and 2. 44, 77, and 88 all scored the goals. I have no recollection of ever coming across that sort of combination before, but in truth, I have rarely seen such high kit numbers. Is the double-digit thing good luck? It sure was here.

It should be noted that the Pink Panther has been adopted by the Allentati (loosen-up), the Città di Fasano Ultras. He adorns flags and murals in the Curva. Not that the average child of today probably even knows who the Pink Panther is, but if you are of a wistful romantic notion of the cartoon caper icon, don’t overly study the photo. It’s fair to say that if this was the Pink Panther, he’s let himself go, positively wasted!

The Fasano Ultras may not be as famous as Livorno or Cosenza for their left leanings, but it has to be said that they’re right up there with these more illustrious doyens, sporting all the necessary flags to be a part of the brotherhood.

So, there you have it, a skip through the trials, tribulations, and joy of lower Puglian calcio. Anger and angst are simmering just around the corner, even at these levels. Indeed, the intensity does not diminish as you nibble down the tiers. The passion runs through all aspects of Italian, and love it or loathe it, for me it’s addictive, and that’s what will keep calling me back.