Milling Around

The Campania region is on the rise in the Italian football world. Sitting as kingpin over everything else in this corner of the country is Napoli, not just in terms of recent Scudetto success, but economically too. Its presence looms almost as large as Vesuvius does in this area, with everything sitting in the shadow of both. The immediate satellite towns around the Gulf of Naples will all doubtlessly have a fair percentage of Napoli fans in their midst. One of the closest, Torre Del Greco, lost its football team, Turris, to bankruptcy just over a year ago now, while Pozzuoli’s side Puotelana were bought out. Maybe these declines are purely coincidental, or is it in correlation to the recent successes of SSC Napoli in the regional capital? But travel just a little further out, and you will find football thriving.

I have covered a number of the clubs in Campania, most recently Avellino in Serie B, who could yet make the promotion playoffs, along with Juve Stabia from Castellammare di Stabia which sits very close to Napoli. They are still on my roster of clubs to bring to life, and mid-April might have ticked that box, had it not been for a more pressing engagement at Stenhousemuir for my promotion seeking ICT boys! Benevento will be back in Serie B themselves next term, up as Champions of the Southern Region Girone in Serie C. Whether Salernitana and Casertana can join them will be revealed throughout the remainder of the season, with both having a crack at following them up via the lengthy third tier play offs. One level down, Scafatese are already promoted to the third tier, along with Paganese, who I also wrote about recently, are also in the hunt, too. That just leaves today’s feature club, SSD Savoia, who are one of the oldest clubs in the southern reaches of Italy, with a rich history as we’ll discover, and potentially on the cusp of joining near neighbours Scafatese and Paganese in the professional ranks once more in C next season. 

However, this was a tale that very nearly didn’t happen. With a 5.35am flight to Napoli, it was perhaps a tad silly to be out of Edinburgh at a Lowland League match the night before I left. But that was my reality, and a Linlithgow lad had just nodded a gilt edge chance over the bar when my phone went ping. My airline was informing me that my early morning escape had been cancelled. It was a real shock, and the end to end drama unfolding just became background noise as I endeavoured to source an alternative. It was the first outing of 2026 for Napoli on the Edinburgh flight roster, not a great start.

I requested a refund and went with another budget airline to the capital. A 6.15am start gave me a fighting chance to make kick-off, but at some considerable cost. I have never booked a flight with less than 9 hours until it left. I got the very last seat! Taxi-fast train-hotel check-in (3 hours later than I would have)-ridiculously expensive taxi south, and I was in the stadium in Torre Annunziata 20 minutes ahead of kick off. I was jolly chuffed with myself. I could have delayed going, but hotels/trains etc, they would all have been lost, and as Dicky Attenborough said as Big X in The Great Escape when they discovered they were 30 feet short, “it has to be tonight, all the documents are stamped tomorrow”.

Savoia play their games in the Gulf of Naples town of Torre Annunziata (population 43,000). TA is the next significant conurbation down from Torre Del Greco as you edge out of Napoli and around the bay within Greater Napoli. This area has a history that is quite different in many regards from the rest of Italy. It perhaps explains why Napoli, in particular, always feels more akin to Buenos Aires than even nearby Roma, for example. The moped is a dying mode of transport in many areas in Italy these days, but here in these satellite towns, the scooter is still the accepted and potentially easiest way to get about. The streets can be tight and hilly, making cycling a more exhausting and fraught alternative. However, for those of us who enjoyed Gomorra, set in this very area, the sight of a dark visored moped rider on a quiet street doesn’t half put the frighteners on you!

Torre Anunciata was flour producing country, with many a miller spotted in town back in the day. (A Rotherham tie-up is needed!). The local production of such a vital substance was honoured when the local football team got around to choosing their club colours, with white the popular choice. The club name though is perhaps in honour of the old Italian Royal family, the House of Savoy, with even the club crest having a whiff of the Royal coat of arms. That base point of something akin to the Danish flag, surrounded by a laurel and a crown, couldn’t be more royal if it tried. That said, uncertainty exists as to exactly why, albeit, at least two of the founders in 1909 had fought for the ruling family, with the battle cry “avanti Savoia” shouted as the troops charged forward. Those who prefer to detach the club name from any royal shenanigans will perhaps jump on the notion that the name was taken merely from the local cinema/theatre! Either way, that facility was doubtlessly named after the Royal family, so it’s all connected in one way or another. Interestingly, as the second world war was drawing to a conclusion, the club was forced to change its name for a passage of time to US Torrese, essentially the team of Torre. 

Back in the day, Savoia were in the vanguard of Campania calcio. Before a national championship was introduced, they would regularly win the regional top league, three years on the spin in fact, and would participate in a knock-out competition with other regional winners for the overall title. The northern powerhouses of Piemonte, Lombardia, and Liguria almost always served up the winner, but in 1924, Savoia, having lost 3-1 to Genoa in the first leg, they drew 1-1 at home. Genoa won the title, but the significance of that draw was that it was the first time that a “southern” side had not lost to a northern side. A small victory that eventually broke the mould, although in truth, even today, save Napoli, the south still isn’t competing at the top level as much as it potentially should. That north-south economic debate once more highlighted in the tale of modern-day Italian football.

The advent of bankruptcy, that stalwart of any Italian club tale visited upon US Torrese (Savoia post-war) in 1955, earlier than many of the modern-day scourges in the country. The stadium they were using, Campo Formisano was closing, and with it went the club. It was a chance to revert back to the original name once the finances were in place for a new run at the hill. Various owners came and went, but with a good period of stability seeing them largely dot about in Serie C2 (now D, where they are presently), but in 1995 a 2-1 playoff win over Matera in Foggia saw the club step up in the third tier for the first time in a decade. 

In 1997, the club went into a Serie B promotion play-off final with my boys Ancona. It was a match played in Olympic Stadium, Roma, far too big for such an occasion, but both sets of fans embraced the setting and turned out in good numbers. A hard fought tie saw Ancona prevail 1-0, regaining second tier football. Savoia continued to be competitive, and two years later, they managed to reach Serie B, beating Palermo in the semi-final and near neighbours Juve Stabia in the final to step up. Alas, they couldn’t get fully to grips with the higher level, and in finishing 19th out of 20, returned to C1 immediately. However, they have some memories that will last a lifetime. Having drawn with Genoa in 1924, in 1997/98 they beat Sampdoria at home, but perhaps the result that fans still smile about was the draw they achieved in the San Paolo (now Maradona), up the road in Napoli.

The following season, Savoia were at it again, jousting with the best of them to get immediately back to B. Palermo were thumped 5-1 en route to more heartache versus Marche opposition in the play-off final, losing out to Ascoli on this occasion. Subsequent campaigns followed a similar theme, overspending, chasing the dream, mild failure, then eventually another snake arrived, and they were down the ladder as fast as ever. The litany of bad owners and poor management in this century is just utterly depressing. In 2010, to coincide with the Centenary of this rich and colourful club’s history, US Savoia 1909 was back, and has stayed thus ever since. Frustration at not being able to get out of the 5th level, saw new owners listed on the Vienna Stock Market (partly fan owned too), following a recent trend by fellow local clubs Nola and Scafatese in Serie D in buying the titles of a club within the acceptable distance. In 2024, in Savoia’s case ASD Portici were bought out. They played at the brilliantly named San Ciro.  

The rules regarding these “buy-outs” require a club to continue to play at the bought out club for one season before bringing everything home, and in this case, back to Torre Annunziata. All this has been made possible by the splendidly named club President Emanuele Filberto di Savoia. So, after last term’s bedding in, Savoia are back home at the magnificent Alfredo Giroud stadium.

In the summer they were placed into the last of the nine Girone, essentially a hotbed of Sicilian and Calabrian clubs, but despite lengthy away day treks, Savoia are right up there with the mighty Reggina, and perhaps less known Athletico Palermo (who doubtlessly have few if any fans) and Nissa another Sicilian club from Caltanissetta, who were leading the way at the time of writing.

My visit coincided with a club I have a lot of time for, ACR Messina being in town. They are yet another troubled side, but who have managed to eat away at a significant points deduction this term to give themselves a real stab at staying in the fourth tier and  regrouping for next season. It had all the hallmarks for a yesteryear classic, and the sides weren’t about to let me down.

The Giroud is tucked away amid the northern apartment blocks of Torre Annunziata. Indeed, many a balcony and window affords free viewing, and I counted 15 hardy souls doing just that, as well as two more daring lamppost climbers! If you are on a regional train from Napoli Piazza Garibaldi, which is squirrelled away behind and underneath Napoli Centrale, you need to alight at TA Citta, and not the next one down the tracks TA Centrale, which might be exactly as it says on the signage, the centre of the city, but it’s no use for the football viewer unless you want an excessive hike.

Just to confuse matters, Torre is also on the Circumvesuviana network, run by a separate operator to the national carrier Trenitalia. It’s first stop is simply Torre Annunziata, as opposed to the next one down the tracks, Villa Regina, which is still TA as well. Using either operator, it’s the first stop you come to from Napoli. It’s a 20-minute walk to the stadium from either. With a capacity of 10,750, before bits started crumbling, you can see that this club really has the potential to be playing at a much higher level. If they were to get into C this term, who knows how much the owners will open the purse strings to have a real go at a possible return to B. However, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The first hurdle on that journey was overcoming a well organised visitor from Messina. 

Campania’s tifosi (fans) perhaps have the most ferocious reputation anywhere in Italy. Right from the off here, Savoia’s Ultras and even those in the Tribuna were hostile in the extreme to the visiting team and staff, alas no fans allowed. It was a fractious opening, with the partisan atmosphere adding a layer of intrigue to it all. A needless pushing match between two players ended up with a 15 a side recreation of the Battle of  Handbags, with the ref happy enough to get a ringside position to witness the futile milieau, with a mere wag of the figure at one or two involved being sufficient to defuse this rumpus.

In the early exchanges, the Sicilians were creating enough mayhem without looking like scoring. However, the girl beside me, who was a constant lexicon of profanities and general commentary to herself, finally eased away from a screeching style of hyper ventilation, as Messina gradually became subservient and moribund to Savoia’s undoubted superior skills, albeit only shown in flashes.

With a half hour of stalemate approaching, a fine Savoia move down the left, a cut inside brought a good shot, parried by the keeper, only for Umbaca to lash the rebound home. Rightly, every man, woman, and child inside the Giroud briefly lost their minds and went totally berserk. It was like no celebration I have ever witnessed. It was absolutely amazing to watch. After all, this is the run-in to the Serie C hunting season, and every goal and point are precious possessions.

There was a right old houlie blowing down the pitch. It perhaps aided Messina’s attempt at a bright start, but after the turn, Savoia dominated proceedings. The animated coach of the visitors, an uncanny Jorge Fossati lookalike in appearance and pitch side character too (a nice reference for our Uruguayan readership!), eventually just gave up trying to get any sense from his side. It was still only 1-0, and anything could happen, but somewhere a white flag had been raised, Messina were done.

As the game edged to its conclusion with solitary substitutions, etc, by Savoia, another feral moment arrived. A radio rumour, or an app update, Gela scored versus Nissa, Savoia were going top. My app resolutely refused to go 1-1, and so it transpired, it was either a ghost goal or had been chalked off.

Having faffed about with endless corners stuck in that area, the Whites of Savoia took it upon themselves to add a cherry to the cake. Dani Munoz widdled his way through the defence and struck a low dribbler that skipped by the outstretched mit of the goalie and nestled over the line on the side netting. We have lift off, part 2!

It was perhaps all very fitting on the very day NASA pinged a rocket towards the moon. Artemis might have gone first, but Torre Annunziata lit its very own touch paper, and it was both a privilege and an honour to witness it. You can not bottle passion like this. Whether it is borne of anticipation regarding what might be just around the corner, and that has added a layer of hysteria to it all, or maybe every game played here is always this intense, I am unsure. Don’t knock it. Embrace it, I say. You could do worse than pop down from Napoli or up from Salerno to sample life with Savoia. You won’t regret it.

Sadly, there was no catering in the stadium, but a wee bar and a munchy caravan behind the Curva. No souvenirs either, indeed, it took a hot tip from a Savoia lad in Bosnia for that horror show International match, to guide me towards a sports shop in Pompei to bag a natty Savoia away shirt. Alas, by April, stock was low, and only XXL in white was available. Note to self, get back here sooner next time.