Lively Livorno

If you ask any visitor to Italy, where is on their “must do list”, the big three, Roma, Firenze and Venezia will immediately trot out. A sub-section might offer Verona, the Amalfi Coast or Pisa as well. That latter name, as quaint as it is, really has only become famous courtesy of a terrible habit that blighted yesteryear construction in parts of Italy, i.e. poor foundations, resulting in a plethora of leaning buildings. Bologna has a belter, others exist too, yet the one that draws in the crowds known as Torre Pendente locally (The Leaning Tower), sees people flock west from the Tuscan capital to Pisa, most likely for the day, ticking boxes for hilarious efforts to hold the tower up, such is the nature of the Instagram generation.

Just 20 minutes further west along the tracks, right on the coast, sits an altogether more fascinating city, Livorno, or Leghorn, the thankfully rarely used English name for this splendid city. It does get its fair share of tourists, but small in comparison to Pisa, potentially mostly cruise ship day visitors, who chose to stay local rather than get whisked on lengthy bus treks to the aforementioned tower of lean, and Florence. I would love to sit down with a cross-section of those floating visitors, some who’d been on the journey inland, and some who stayed in Livorno, just to see what the overall feeling of their day had been. For me, I suspect those who remained in Livorno will be more relaxed and gladly shooting the breeze at the Captain’s table or wherever onboard the ship about the delights of this Tuscan coastal port city. This is real life in an unassuming Tuscan city, far from the maddening crowds.

Now obviously, the readership of FW are looking to combine a city break with a spot of calcio, and right here is one of the most famous lesser lights of Italian football. Livorno is undoubtedly the most famous left wing club in a region festooned with that political leaning, save Lucchese nearby. Yet, the real rivalry is obviously with Pisa, and for long enough I thought it was a political divide, but in reality, it’s more historical, silted rivers et al resulting in significant sized boat traffic no longer able to journey up the Arno to Pisa. It has been a rarely played match in recent times, but it remains one of the great derby matches of Italy. Yes, the Milan derby or the Roman equivalent grab all the headlines, but a bit like those who site Verona etc as worthy of a visit, the Livorno v Pisa clash is in that bracket for football greats in Italy along with Atalanta v Brescia, Palermo v Catania and Ancona v Ascoli. 

Livorno is a delightful city, if you are thinking of heading this way next term, don’t just come for a game, see the city too. It is a big old sprawling place, with the railway station up the back of the city. The notion that Livorno Centrale is “central” is a little bit of an oxymoron. The sights and sounds of the historical city and the port are a lengthy jaunt down one of the straightest roads you’ll ever come across. Bus 1a will whisk you seaward for a mere 1.70 with a tap and go screen on the bus. 

The canals of the city, deep below as you walk along are something to behold, festooned small boats that undoubtedly some locals own. You can jump aboard a craft or two which’ll give you a waterway tour through the city. It is a fine way to put your feet up and let the buildings surrounding you, both impress and dazzle. Alas, poor Livorno has not been without its flooding issues in recent years, with homes, vehicles and sadly lives lost as flash flooding has overcome the city.  

Down by the sea front, it’s where the working port life of fishermen, the cruise ship docking, ferries to Sardegna and boat repair businesses all meet by the old fortifications of Livorno. The walls of these old ramparts serve as a reminder that this was a critical landing area many a century ago, and defending it was highly necessary. You will catch many locals and tourists walking along the extensive and highly interesting promenade. Italians in general, but especially here in Tuscany seem to still have a deep suspicion of their neighbours, and while those “marauders” are no longer coming from the sea, the Pisa thing truly is deep rooted. 

If you like fish, locally caught and as fresh as they come too, you’ll find one or two wooden cabins down by the waters edge with tables outside who will whip you up a tasty treat as delicious as any fish you have ever eaten, guaranteed, all with the stunning backdrop of port life right in front of you. Once you have eaten, finish it off with a Ponce, (pronounced pon-say), which thankfully is something altogether more local and mind blowing than what your British vocabulary is telling you of that word! It’s a local delicacy; a little slice of lemon in the bottom of a small coffee cup, then a tot of warm rum is plopped in, with the piece de resistance, an espresso shot loaded on top. Curiously the two liquids struggle to mix, but if you have never tried a Ponce before, I promise, you are in for a treat. 

Having enjoyed the city and finding yourself down by the waters edge, depending on kick off, and the weather, it’s a leisurely amble along a lengthy stretch of coastline to your match. En route you’ll pass buffed up areas, where port regeneration has brought shops and apartments to the coast, akin to the regeneration you might have already encountered throughout UK port cities. Beyond that, a park area with a bandstand complete with an area of beautiful balustrade frontage to the sea, with its perfect tiled flooring, that always makes me think outdoor Tango lessons could be held here, but then I remember I am not in Cafe Ideal, Buenos Aires, but coastal Tuscany. 

As the walk continues, and depending on the season, while Livorno has no beach, it does have areas where you can pay to grab a sunlounger and have a dip in a pool, should time allow for some serious tanning and relaxation. These areas are just after the Grand Hotel, which truly does look “grand” in every way, as well as being potentially the biggest (and maybe most expensive) abode to rest your weary limbs in town. The fast car club certainly had checked in as I walked by.       

The coast gradually inclines slightly left and then straightens out again, passing two enormous arched facades either side of the road, advertising what must have been an old railway company. On the coastal side of the road things go off limits for a while with a naval base, but on the opposite side, the housing is lavish in the extreme with turrets and balconies that are all extremely impressive. It is a short distance into this world of the rich, and well heeled before a left turn will bring you up towards the Armando Picchi stadium. The fact you are walking up one of the most elegant streets towards a football stadium that you’ll ever experience, makes the notion that Livorno are the doyen of the left sit a little uneasily.

Long before I ever had the pleasure of seeing a game here, Serie C Livorno of the ‘80’s always had me fascinated. The crowds for this level were enormous, almost always sold out no matter who was in town and what place the side were in the league table. Livorno are not alone in losing significant numbers of fans these days, with so many other distractions for people. Serie C is where they are once more, this time on an upwards trajectory having been down in the Tuscan Eccellenza (two tiers lower) following yet another bankruptcy. This season perhaps was all about stabilising and making a full fist of edging towards Serie B next season. I was to witness to the club’s last home game of the season, largely courtesy of Rimini going out of business as they were the original scheduled finale a few weeks later, but with the play-offs just out of reach, gli Amaranto (the dark reds) will have plenty of time to re-organise and get ready for ‘26/27 with the desire to pursue those pesky Pisani to bring that derby back to life once more. A game that sits in a small knot of “must-see” affairs. One day soon maybe!

I was in Italy just days after the Azzurri had failed for a third World Cup to qualify. An extended competition of 48 lands, and still Italy, four time champions too, won’t be at the party (unless Iran can’t participate). There was much disgruntlement as you can imagine, and thankfully, despite being an ebullient character, the FIGC head honcho Signore Gravina walked the plank and resigned. Not many shed a tear. I am sure they were having street parties down in Taranto, a club that seemed to get the full wrath of his disgruntlement last summer. Who comes next and what they can change will be vital for the future of the game in Italy. The loss of World Cup revenue, not to mention the uptick in enthusiasm depending on success, will filter down and be felt all the way to the ninth tier. 

The nature of the Italian game below the bigger clubs is perilous. You’ll rarely read a story I write that doesn’t include the word bankruptcy, why is that always happening? I believe clubs need to own their own stadium and be allowed to utilise them to create income away from just merely gate receipts, some of which is lost paying rent to the council. In the lower leagues, many have artificial surfaces, not uncommon in the UK, but here in Britain, clubs will let out the pitch, or half pitches for local enthusiasts and amateur sides to rent for an hour or so. The local Council’s largely own the stadia in Italy, and any upgrades required are lost in disputes with non football people who consider such requirements to be a waste on the public purse. The stadiums are respectfully named after ex-players etc, but commercial requirements would bring in cash for adding a sponsors name, only those who already own their ground have that ability to bring in that extra revenue, the Mapei for example owned by Sassuolo in Reggio Emilia.

Too much Italian football is on TV. It could be argued that too much football is on everywhere, but every single Serie C match can be viewed, for a fee obviously to the provider. I delight in a Sunday diet of calcio from Puglia, where the local television company streams on a platform accessible anywhere, with up to 5 or 6 matches from Serie D and below all being shown simultaneously. That’s not great for encouraging people to leave home and watch a match live in the stadium. However, the key dominator in the entire debacle of Italian football, is the authorities, be it administrative or policing, they have lost the plot. It’s almost as if job justification comes to be part of the scheme, with no thought put into their actions, and whether it is a) necessary and b) taking into account the fans’ match experience. Closing roads, fencing areas as no go zones (for no apparent rationale), it treats everyone going to a game almost as a thug unless proven otherwise. At a match in Catania recently, where 10 hardy souls had ventured from Basilicata to cheer Picerno, I counted 4 different groups of police involved at various barriers, (the Polizia level with riot helmets in hand!) and for some reason a squad of bored Forestry commission guys were drafted in too, for what?

This nonsensical policing could not be highlighted more ridiculously than here in Livorno. I thoroughly enjoyed my day re-acquainting with an old favourite city of mine, and then drifted towards the stadium a little early to buy a ticket, before heading back to the water to chill for some time before the match, with a beer at the breakwater beyond the naval zone. Here, another small support base was in town (just 8) visiting from Gubbio. It had been a stunning day, and being on the west of Italy, I realised the sunset from the Gradinata, where I had purchased my ticket for, would give me a ringside seat for such a spectacle over the main stand. That was when my entire day of relaxation went out of the window, and this next paragraph highlights why things are so wrong in Italian football.

Once back outside the main stand (the Tribuna), my ticket was for the opposite side of the ground. I headed out through an open gate in the fence toward the Curva to nudge around to my seat. Issue one, the gate might have been open, but a mental bar about shin height existed, ouch! The back of the Curva was fenced off, so I went back to the front of the stand, mindful of the bar this time as I continued to feel the effects of my first encounter with it. “You have car”, the steward asked upon my inquiry how to get to the Gradinata. “No” being the obvious answer, but it’s just across there I want to go” as I pointed out the obvious. “All closed” he replied, “this is tribuna” he continued. “Surely I can walk around?” I enquired, “of course, but it’s a long way”. He was not kidding either. I had to head back through the gate with the mental bar and walk about three blocks out from the ground, then turn right edging up towards the opposite side. Fans were pouring down a side street, so I stupidly followed them. How silly of me, while my area was visible through another closed off fence, this was for access only to the home Curva! Retracing my way, walking against the crowd to the main road, then right, and much further on right again. I was so far from the ground, the lights, so high and magnificent ones that they are, were barely visible! This poorly lit road to seemingly going nowhere, subtly curves toward the ground at the far end. From here it was down one last street, passing another ticket kiosk, to the entry point for the Gradinata. It had taken 20 plus minutes, walking fast to catch the sunset, and any joy gained from a relaxing day had gone out the window in yet another puff of Italian footballing farce.

It only became apparent why all this unsigned post nonsense existed as the game got underway. Down to my left in the bottom corner of the Gradinata, very close to the away fans, is home to a second group of Ultras, and these are “right wing” fans of Livorno! They couldn’t enter and exit the ground from the same streets as the more traditional fanbase, hence all these non sensical requirements. Of course, all these measures were still in place after the match, and with the last bus from the waterfront boulevard back towards the station and subsequently my hotel departing just 10 minutes after the game, I had no chance of catching it. I had no option other than to have a google map experience of nearly 6 km back to my accommodation. 

Those globally renowned Livorno Ultras in the Curva are just fans at the end of the day, and they commendably don’t go out of their way to make commercial gain from their fame. You’ll find no shop or even stall here selling their wares, merely capture a variety of flags from “left” leaning lands they both associate with as tenuously as you’d expect, coupled with a certain, highly topical and controversial one, planted on the Curva almost as an anti-Italian government protest flag, the Islamic Republic of Iran! 

These last paragraphs have perhaps highlighted a few issues that blight the Italian game, that makes it a struggle to be a “family” occasion, with the Ultras still holding too much power, leading to ridiculous stewarding and policing. When, more often than not, away fans get banned these days, it is both a travesty and almost government policy. The mantra of the current incumbents was to promise Italians a safer environment in all facets of life, but that can be abused locally and turned into something more sinister and certainly has become disrespectful to football.

The Picchi is still in good order, even if the track around the Mussolini-esque ground is no longer usable. Its art decor main entrance is certainly in keeping with the lavish houses down the road it looks out upon. The match, between Play off bound Gubbio and needing a last win to guarantee not getting dragged into any relegation play-out Livorno was a stop, start affair in the first half. VAR getting involved in the third tier just doesn’t feel right and no one was happy. However, the seven added minutes after a relatively tedious stalemate of a first 45 brought not one, but two home goals to send the home side off to a crescendo of joy. The first goal in particular was a beauty and easily the goal of the game.

Gubbio, who had fashioned one or two neat things in the first half, seemed bereft of the notion they could get back into the game, and it settled into a bit of a stupor, before a fabulously placed late shot gave Livorno a third and the win they desired. Everyone, save the 8 men of Gubbio, were delighted and the applause at the end was warm. It was a fine way to sign off at home. Livorno will hopefully be higher up the table in the top end battle next season. 

Improving the standard, the experience and game in general in Italy has a long way to go, but it needs to start somewhere, and it needs to start soon. I am Calcio through and through, but I am not blind to its faults and the issues surrounding the game, but if I am calling things out, and not defending it, you know things are getting grim across there. That said, let’s end on a positive note, just fly into Pisa, have a peak at a leaning tower if you must, then get yourself to the coast and enjoy Livorno, it’s an unheralded gem. If you decide to go for the Gradinata, don’t say you weren’t warned!