Toscana Inclination

Those clever architects of yesteryear knew what they were doing. Build a Bell Tower with more than a lean, and the world shall forever know the city of Pisa. Allegedly it was unintentional, but inadvertently it has become one of the great icons of Italy. The tower with a tilt isn’t unique to this Tuscan city, Bologna has a much higher construction that sits at an equally dramatic angle, yet it doesn’t even register on the chatter over a thimble full of espresso. Italy is also a land that doesn’t really get the coffee-catch up, unless you’re just doing a one minuter at a railway station cafe en route somewhere else.

In my extensive travels to find a tale, my Livorno buddy Fabrizio was always proud of the notion that my Tuscan viewing CV might have included sides from all 4 corners of the sizable region (13 in total, from Carrara in the NW to Arezzo in the SE corner) but had one glaring omission, Pisa. In 2007, I had tried, but that was before I had a Leghorn (horrible English word for Livorno) connection. Those were the initial days of individualised ticketing. Gone was the wee porthole money stuffer for a colourful but generic brief. As coincidence would have it, the two games featured here were reversed in 2007, and a rare opportunity for a double header on the day arose. Prior to around that date, football was a Sunday afternoon affair in Italy, but as TV took hold, the kick offs have become more and more spread out as well as random. Alas, the need to have bought a ticket ahead of matchday caught me out, and 2007 became 2025 before I ever even thought about going back to Pisa.

PISA

I pitched up in Pisa on matchday, and met Fabrizio, who ironically works for the FIGC, organising calcio at the league levels in the Pisa region. An “outsider” from Livorno is needed for such a role, with the reverse occurring in the coastal city, famous throughout the land and beyond for its left wing leanings. Despite a really fierce rivalry, and a derby that hasn’t been played for many years, both, together with largely the entire region of Tuscany, they all sit on the left of the political spectrum. Yet fiefdom and historical wrongdoing sees every town suspicious of the next one along the road.

Working in Pisa is ok, but I knew getting him into the Pisa stadium would prove impossible. Indeed, I found myself questioning my own sanity, having paid just short of €80 for a lower main stand ticket. If you want a Curva or Gradinata seat, you need to be a member. It’s open to anyone, but it comes at a cost, so when added to the ticket, it wasn’t going to be much cheaper, complete with the undoubted faff to get it all set up. I had resolved that this would be a one-off gig watching here anyway. Pisa aren’t even vaguely close to earning a morsel of my sympathies, but what would unfold at the game bashed a final nail in the notion of ever going back. More later.

Like its big brother along the road in the Tuscan capital Florence, Pisa sits on the river Arno. Walking along its banks, many of the buildings are similar in both places. Obviously, a degree more money was lavished in Firenze, and Pisa lacks that iconic Ponte Vecchio, but it does have a curious wee church by the river, with the exterior gargoyles are something that might fall into the exquisite category. However, as we know, what it lacks in waterway crossings is made up for at the Piazza Duomo, where the magnificent cathedral has its own grounds (and considerable scaffold presently), trumping the Duomo in Florence purely on its fabulous open spaces, in comparison to the tight streets around its equivalent in the capital, where the bell tower stands magnificently straight. In Pisa, people lose their minds finding curious, and in their book, hilarious ways of holding up the Leaning Tower for a keepsake.

Perhaps, especially in daylight hours, only a football fan will notice a floodlight pylon just a little distance behind the tower. It was here in 2007 that I sat, (they don’t let you on the grass now) having been unable to attend Pisa v Frosinone, but the lack of a solid cheer confirmed later on, that it had ended 0-0. As the evening arrives on match night, the streaming light from the floodlights will potentially add or spoil your Torre Pendente (Italian for Leaning Tower) snap, depending on your take. Most readers here, I imagine, would delight at the inclusion such a sight.

I have seen Pisa away in C and B, in Tuscan derbies at Lucca and Arezzo they won (both 3-2), but in a high scoring viewing franchise, a 5-1 clubbing at Benevento is best remembered. Of course, the American/Russian owner (a portent of the world to come?) has aided their return to Serie A for the first time in 34 years, with the intervening passage of time a veritable smorgasbord of tales of woe. Going bust, starting back in the Tuscan Eccellenza, Pisa has been there and got the t-shirt! Whisper it quietly, but it all has the hallmarks of the trajectory that rivals Livorno presently find themselves on. Although, if that is, in fact, what the tea leaf reading has in store for them, bring it on, I say! Livorno v Pisa sits in the highest echelon of my football viewing bucket list.        

If you are paying €80, you would expect a little leg room and the opportunity to easily get by your neighbours to stretch your legs at half time, enjoying the queue for a drink or something. Not only was there no catering, but the seats are so tightly packed, your neighbour, if slightly more than a “slight” person, starts to encroach on your space. Vivaticket, the Pisa online vending agent, doesn’t seem to allow you to select a seat. Once an area is chosen, they allocate you one. I was nice and early, but to my left, the three seats were already taken. I smiled and said hello (in Italian), which was enough to trigger an unprintable comment between the trio, but suffice it to say, my non-Italian status wasn’t welcome! It is useful to understand Italian to some degree, but I remained tight lipped and never once entered into any conversation with those around me, whose banter and willingness to turn on those especially of less than white skin shall we say, even in their own team when they did something wrong, was simply disgusting. 

I was essentially in the midst of a group of seventy something season ticket holders, who all knew each other and whose language and chat, they felt safe spouting, after all this mute bloke in their midst couldn’t understand a word, or so they thought. The man behind me was the only gentleman who sang every word of the songs coming from the Curva, a frustrated “vecchio” (old) Ultra. I was glad I was wearing a baseball cap, and I could occasionally hear spittle from the demonic sole behind landing on it! 

Cremonese were in town, newly promoted too, a quick return in their case, but usually the Grigiorossi (red and greys) stay in the top flight is fleeting. However, they are making a much better fist of it this term, and hopes of laying down Serie A roots is a distinct possibility. By contrast, while Pisa weren’t adrift and indeed still had Fiorentina below them, it was a more vital night for them.

The match had all the hallmarks of ending the way it started, neither were creating much, but Pisa had a greater determination. I decided to do what Sky here, and do a Vardy watch. I was curious as to how he fitted into the Cremonese setup and how he communicated with his colleagues. Now I know he was subsequently awarded the November player of the month, but in this one, Jamie was not at the races. I counted 4 touches in the entire game, two in the first half, and two consecutive touches that led to an effort at goal, but he was offside, so do those even count? He constantly would stick up thump of encouragement up to his colleagues, but linguistically, nothing. 

Cremonese seemed fixated on getting the ball to him, but Pisa had already done the maths, and the defence were in total control against him, but it did free up others to have a go, and the Lombardian side did fashion 4 or 5 fine opportunities that on another day might have seen them headed back up the road with the points in the bag. As the uncomfortable night continues to unfold, this was my desired outcome.

As it was, the home side, who fashioned a few efforts themselves, but rarely troubling the keeper, nicked a ball off a sluggish defender, crossed for Toure to head home. It was remarkably Pisa’s first home goal in early November. A first home goal in 34 years in Serie A, and at the time of writing, two home games since have rendered no goals either. Not that Mr Toure would know, but those around me had been less than enamoured with his play at times earlier in the match. The OAP gang around me had me thinking Richard Osman could write a novel about a mad bunch of elderly football fans! They are probably as quiet as field mice at home, but put them in a football environment, a sort of madness descends. It reached manic proportions when squabbling broke out when the number 4 was raised as Pisa were about to make a substitution. It was a solitary “4” not a substitute, but the arguments around me were bewildering.

They grew nervous and just wanted the final whistle, but nervousness was like tourettes all around me. However, the final whistle was greeted with understandable joy, but the chap to my right, a regular encroacher on my miniscule space, smiled and put his arm around me! I still said nothing and couldn’t even return his smile. I regret now staying silent as I should have let them know I was fully aware of all the bile they threw out there. Instead, doubtlessly with a face like angry thunder, I edge by him and out, vowing never to return.

I had stupidly decided I would have something to eat at the game, and as mentioned, for the first time in recollection, Pisa had no stalls in the main stand available. By 22,30, I was both starving and parched. Of course, the direct road back to the Leaning Tower and onwards towards my hotel was blocked off so the away fans could get away without any trouble. The end around nature of the walk on top of my experience in the stadium had mild mannered me as livid as I could recall after a game. This was all music to my Livorno buddy of course, and while I confess to sympathising more with them, I endeavour to approach all my viewing for an article with as much impartiality as is possible. 

My journey after the game continued, and it took me through the gates at the far end of the Piazza Duomo. The sight that greeted me swept all that angst away immediately. It was a beautiful clear sky, the stars were shining bright, and the sight of the full park with the baptistry, church and leaning tower all resplendent in the evening light, it was a sight to behold. Just a few tourists were about, it was all very relaxed and just what I needed. Alas, chefs had stopped cooking, everywhere was closing up, and I was forced to buy some snacks from a vending machine to quell my appetite before calling it a night.

Pisa had frustrated the life out of me, and the football fan aspect is not for being forgiven, but that last feeling from the end of the night by the Leaning Tower, it made it all feel worthwhile. Those clever architects of yesteryear, they knew what they were doing, add a lean to your tower!    

EMPOLI

Unlike 2007, this wasn’t a double bill, more a leisurely transfer between Pisa and Empoli on the Saturday. More leisurely than normal given the Livorno to Firenze train service that flows through Pisa was only running as far as Empoli due to engineering works. In many regards it was that knowledge made me alter my plans to stop off in the Tuscan town. Originally I had planned to set off at the crack of dawn to woosh through Italian countryside and a number of train carriages to catch the “ova” or “ua” derby (it’s not really!), depending on the era you wish to recall these fine upstanding cities. As it was, Mantova weren’t selling briefs for anyone outside the local zip codes, doubtlessly to prevent Padovan infiltration, so Trenitalia for once had perhaps done me a wee favour.

It also allowed me to spend more time with Fabrizio, who was to prove my saviour in getting from Empoli to Firenze for my onward journey to Modena by bringing his car. While Pisa is off limits to gli Livornesi, Empoli is perfectly fine. Indeed, quiet, unspectacular Empoli has doubtlessly been caught up in many a yesteryear local Machiavellian scullduggery, but very often in the modern world, its football team has been playing second string in the Tuscany region. The baton might have temporarily passed to Pisa, but write Empoli off at your pearl. This is a well run club whose ambition might be limited, but they are canny enough to know what they can and can’t achieve. Judging by an early season 4-0 thrashing at Pescara I witnessed, it might not be an immediate return to Serie A. The Empoli model is going down the youth route, bringing on local talent and blending a side that can make another run at the top flight in the near future. Whether a Pisa v Empoli fixture returns to the roster next term is still in the balance.

The main square was a hive of activity with a significantly large Santa sitting upon his sleigh was already in position, while work continued at a pace adding the festive lights and the obligatory carousel, albeit one of the smallest I had seen. Reaching the top of the cycle would hardly grant you a view of Empoli, let alone the roofs of the surrounding buildings. The  square also houses the club shop, and we both spent well, with Fabrizio a great pinbadge collector, delighted to see a rare opportunity from an Italian club to garnish his collection with one and others to offer as swaps.   

This was an extraordinary warm day, with temperatures in the direct sunlight edging close to 20. I was well aware that I would never see the likes again back home for some months, so perhaps rather eccentrically from an Italian perspective, as they do dress and act to the seasons rather than the temperature, we ate outside. Post nibbling, once inside the Carlo Castellani (capacity 16,284) about 15 minutes from tge centre, we were out of the sun. The temperature took a significant nose dive as if to remind us of the true season. That said, across from the Tribuna, those in the Gradinata got an extra hour of sunlight, where the Ultras weren’t just in fine voice, some were stripped down to the waist. 

Catanzaro were in town, another I was seeing for the second time this term, with my now annual pilgrimage to the Ceravolo now baked into my DNA. A trip to Catanzaro, as awkward as it is to reach, must be on any aspiring calcio fan’s “must-do” list. At home, high up on their mountain perch, it can feel a bit like a fortress. On the road, like any team really, the performances can seem mixed. I have only seen them twice away, and after this one, it would be another blank. Like in Cittadella last term, they got what they deserved here. Their play was too languid and ponderous. They escaped the Veneto with  a scoreless draw, and might have got away with such a result in Empoli too, but two curious refereeing decisions altered the game. Before half-time a second yellow saw the home side reduced to ten men. A truly harsh decision. That feeling of indignation did a lot to galvanise Empoli. 

Whether the half-time banter in the Catanzaro dressing room had been full of arrogant ambivalence and the belief they’d find a goal eventually, who knows, but it was quickly rumbled early in the second half. It was one of those, no one claimed, ref some nothing affairs. But at the next halt in play, Mr. VAR intervened, called the ref over to the screen with Empoli being awarded a penalty. It was duly dispatched, and while the spectacle improved thereafter, that anger from the red card saw the Empolese across the line for a much needed win at the time. It would prove to be the catalyst to shooting up the table and leaving your writer unsure whether it might become a genuine promotion push once more.

Catanzaro are a very well supported side. Like so many from the south, they can call upon a significant fanbase from the north, as well as the travelling Ultras who bring all the pageantry you would expect. This is their third term in Serie B after 18 years in the levels below. They have made the promotion play-offs in the first two campaigns back in the second tier. Investment in the playing staff has been made to see if they can give the club that final push back to the promised land of A, where they haven’t been since the early ‘80’s. Plans to lose the pillars in the mainstand and bring the Curva right behind the goal at the Ceravolo have been drawn up.

Like Empoli, these are two ambitious clubs. Both would be a credit to the top flight. Empoli know it well and perhaps that creates a certain ambivalence, but I know from experience, having seen their first game back in Serie B in 2023, having Catanzaro rise to the top again would be akin to Catania, Reggina or Bari getting up too. The southern sides of Italy are where the original essence of the word passion for the game is still alive and well. I drink it up. It’s addictive. All roads lead south for the rest of 25/26 for me.