To be completed after final match on 27th
Pre-Covid, my teeks south of Roma constituted a mere two forays. Remarkably, these journeys included only one game, pretty far south in 2003, when Lecce and Ancona were both going for promotion to Serie A.
Once the world started opening up again, of which Italy was one of the last, all of a sudden, and with initially no premeditated rationale, my routing started to become distinctly southern. I just seemed to enjoy the more relaxed, less endless tourist aspect of places I was visiting. The world we live in has changed somewhat. A pandemic was one way of finally spelling out to me, certainly that we only get one shot at this life, and you never know what might be around the corner. I have ramped up my travels, knowing full well I will likely need to slow down at some juncture future.
Post covid days started in Benevento. The atmosphere of the town and its stunningly located football stadium, the Ciro Vigorito, captured my heart, even if the team perse, didn’t. However, largely, I like to see them doing well, and when Pisa were put to the sword 5-1, it wasn’t just the locals who were gleeful!
Hilltop Old Benevento is a historic place. An important stop on the Roman trading route to and from Brindisi, known as the Appiani Way. The Arco di Traiano, the Trajan Arch, is a thing of beauty, still standing, and once the entrance to the city. It is a fine monument to yesteryear. The Python in me sees a gatekeeper asking all sorts of weird questions to get in; “What is your favourite colour?!!”
Northern Italy is blessed with a greater volume of historical artefacts and buildings. Centro Storico, in many places in the north, really is something to behold. However, write the south off at your pearl. It’s different to the north, but that’s no bad thing.
Paul Bowles, the author, when writing my favourite novel, The Sheltering Sky, posed the question in his text with regard to how many times we will recall a certain afternoon in our childhood etc, which correlates to the human mind allowing us to believe life is inexhaustible. It ties in nicely with a post pandemic attitude, and everyone will recollect and deal with things differently.
Personally, my way of countering that question of recollection is to re-live the memories, not just in the mind, but physically going back. In many cases, a place gets under my skin, and I can’t just visit and never return.
Benevento is my case in point for this article anyway, but it could easily be Ancona, or Bisceglie; Salerno, or Brindisi; Cesena, or Catanzaro; Vicenza, or Caserta. The city seeped into my world, eyes wide open after being stuck at home, dreaming of getting on the road once more. It was never a conscious thing. If it’s forced, it doesn’t work, but deep down within, a calling or a need will lure me back.
Since that inaugural visit to Benevento in April 2022, I had already been back three times, doing the hard yards with them in the third tier, ahead of a trio of matches that lined up perfectly against sides I love in a crazy 17 period in the autumn of 2026.
The last match was just in April this year, when their closest rivals Catania were well beaten in front of a huge crowd to make getting promotion a near formality. Back in B this term, the games I would see brought sides from North (Vicenza), Central (Cesena-although they would say north!), and South (Catanzaro, from the deep south). All three are sides I like to keep an eye on, especially the latter duo.
When I was young, and discos were all the rage, by the time Lionel Ritchie chippered up with his romantic slowy, if you didn’t have a girl, it was time to slope off for a pie or a pizza, ahead of getting the Sunday papers from Jimmy, an old guy with a permanent snorter hanging from his nose, outside the Caledonian Hotel in Edinburgh! See Mr Bowles, I can still recollect, the youthful boozing hasn’t killed all the grey matter!
Anyway, to paraphrase Lionel; “You once, twice, three times a Strega” seems wholly appropriate for this tale. Incidentally, Strega is a witch, something that Benevento seems quite famous for. It’s all consuming, and not just at the football, even though it’s the club nickname and a witch is on the badge. Halloween must be a hoot round these parts, and given I am here on the 27th of October, let’s see what transpires at the Catanzaro encounter when I will be staying in Benevento.
CESENA
The visitors were the first team I ever wanted to see in Italy, something that duly happened in June 1987. All courtesy of Subbuteo! While Ancona duly wrestled away my ultimate support, as real-life experiences entered the fray, I still like to see Cesena do well, and rarely a season will pass without seeing them a couple of times. In 2024/25, I saw them five times!
It was my first full day back in Italy for 26/27, and the sky was leaden. As soon as I got off in Benevento, having journeyed from Salerno, the heavens opened. With no wind, it was coming straight down, but with a 35/40 walk to the Vigorito, I decided to cab it, knowing I could hide under the lower tier at the stadium until near kick off.
I was well prepared with a good umbrella, but the rain truly was relentless. However, no dampness was going to spoil what transpired to be a cracking game. Indeed, Cesena would head up the road bewildered how they lost this one. Right from the off, they were in control, and Strega were very much on the back foot.
Perhaps on Benevento’s second foray across the halfway line on 24 minutes, one simple long pass beat the press, and the forward was clean through one on one with the keeper. He duly tucked the effort away with aplomb, but it felt like highway robbery. The game reverted to type for the remainder of the half, with Benevento happy to play the soaking up role, no pun intended!
At the start of the second half, we had a spot of role reversal, with Strega pushing forward, creating things in front of their highly vocal and passionate home Ultras in the Curva behind the goal they were attacking.
Cesena, however, were always dangerous, and they thought they had equalised around the hour mark with a fine clipped finish. However, VAR got involved, and after an inordinate delay, the ball was moved from the halfway line back towards the home goal for offside. Not to be denied, well, yes, they were to be, Cesena next hit the inside of the post, and the ball stayed out. The White flag almost went up at that point. They knew it wasn’t going to be there day.
As the heavens relentlessly pummelled the Vigorito, even though the blue sky was getting bigger and more visible nearby, both just kept slogging away. One final bicycle kick salvo from Cesena that flew narrowly over the bar and then leaving the back door unguarded allowed Strega to double their advantage, but that was apparently offside, too. Maybe they could still get a draw, and the cavalry became even more united, but within minutes, they’d been picked off at the back, and this time it was game, set and match to Benevento with a tidy finish as the clock ticked down.
More of the same please, same time next Saturday, just leave out the water from the sky!
LANEROSSI VICENZA
A week later, on the same Salerno to Benevento route, this time with no umbrella or jacket. This was a glorious autumnal day. Lanerossi Vicenza, a famous old name of Italian football, were in town. Both these sides had terrific promotions last season, and both will be hoping in time to get back to Serie A.
Lane, as Vicenza are affectionately known, seeped into my world in 1990, when a 1 Lira ticket (ridiculously cheap) guaranteed a sell-out home crowd for a third tier final day relegation, all or nothing clash with Prato. The home team won, forcing a playoff with the same opposition a week later, which they also won in Ferrara, thereby saving the club from the fourth tier. Remarkably, seven years later, Lanerossi won the Coppa Italia as a Serie A side, and the next season led at the Bridge versus Chelsea, having won the first leg of the Cup Winners Cup Semi-Final, only to implode and lose out on a European final. It hasn’t exactly been plain sailing since then.
Those who ventured to the solitary FW’s Italian weekend gig will know all about my love for Ancona and mild passion for Vicenza. While some went to Cremona, I nicked off to Lecco to see them, lining up a taxi to take me directly to the San Siro to rejoin the throng.
The Vicenza crowd was of a similar 500 size to those from Cesena, but this time, the tops off thing was because of the heat, not because their clothes were soaked. The fine weather had brought more home fans out, too. The hills and mountains around Benevento were glistening in the sun, the portents of a cracking day were all to hand, and the teams weren’t about to let me down.
A more traditional start here with Benevento taking the match to the low block of the visitors, who were merely feeling their way into matters. However, before half-time, Strega were two up and cruising. Vicenza needed a tactical tweak to get things going and were better in their passing and planning after the interval.
That said, only wasteful finishing from Benevento meant they weren’t adding to the two goals, and eventually, Vicenza started to create chances. They pulled one back on 67 when a long-range shot seemed to go right through the keeper. They tried it again near the end, but thus truly was a golazzo, a terrific strike that flew into the net, beating the goalkeeper all ends up. He had no chance of stopping this one.
The game wasn’t done, both were going for the win, and ironically having scored two belters, Vicenza should have sealed all three points from a relatively simple tap in, which flew over the bar to a cacophony of “mama mia” from around me. There would be no winner, and perhaps that was just about right.
I changed my viewing outlook for the second half to a lower, nearer the action seat, rather than my preferred standing at the back of the Gradinata spot. Within earshot across the way were two chaps, who might have been brothers, but immediately became the Muppets Statler and Waldorf! My goodness, even at two up, these buddy allenatore (managers) were chain smoking incandescents! Nothing Benevento did was to their liking, and certain players would get a right verbal pounding. It’s only a game lads, ease up!
En route back to the station, crossing the bridge out of the old city, I looked down on the meandering water, only to see initially one, then a whole gaggle of what I first thought were pigs, but upon closer inspection it was a family of wild boar! It’s not an everyday sight, especially crossing a river bed.
At the far end of the bridge, a betting shop has a big screen outside where the elderly fan gathers. They were showing the astonishingly lengthy added time between Man City and Ipswich! It’s fair to say that none of the dozen or so viewers were cheering for City. Expletives were caught in conversation. The game never concluded. Someone nipped in to get why they were really gathered on, Bologna v Inter. I had half an hour to kill before heading back to Salerno, so thinking about a nice Cinghale pasta, wild boar, I stayed and watched the opening passage of this clash.
CATANZARO
The last but by no means least visitors were from the Calabrian capital, Catanzaro. Everything changed for this one. After the rain and the sun, this one was under the lights. My direction of travel had altered, too, heading west from Puglia on this occasion. Alas, even a 7pm kick out, it was impossible to sensibly head back, so I booked my favourite Benevento hotel for the night. Plenty of time to enjoy my favourite Italian white wine that hails from these parts, Falanghina.
Catanzaro is another place that got under my skin. Although, the fact they were in Serie A as I started following Italian football in the early 80s was undoubtedly a factor in a sympathy for them that started back then.
After 18 years in the Serie C wilderness, I had the great pleasure of seeing Catanzaro’s first home match back at the Ceravolo versus Spezia in August 2023. The Ligurian side were just down from Serie A, but they were blown away 3-0. It was a wonderful occasion even if I had undertogged for a cool evening breeze after a balmy day. Catanzaro is quite high up a hillside of the coast.
I was back the following season to see them host another Serie A dropout, Venezia. This game will live long in the mind, and not just for the actual game. If the rain had been relentless in game one of this trilogy, in Catanzaro for 30 minutes, it was truly monsoon. My wee brolly was inadequate as the seat and everything else just flooded in no time. The teams were taken off, as while the sun came out, such was the drenching, a post-match three hour hairdryer treatment to my clothes finally was winning the battle! The teams came back out after an hour of rinsing as much water as possible off the pitch, and Catanzaro won 3-2 to the delight of almost everyone present.
I returned last season for a 2-2 draw with Juve Stabia, a real struggle this one, but ironically last term was the best campaign of the three in B for Catanzaro, with the club literally just inches away from Serie A. Alas a 2-2 aggregate with Monza rightly rewards the higher placed club, but it was mighty frustrating.
So, having been three years on the trot, it was my wish to keep it as an annual event, only for the realisation that the stadium was partially closed for redevelopment and with such a sizable support squashed into half the stadium capacity, I wasn’t going to nick a true fans seat, and decided a match at Benevento would suffice.
Tbc
