Dear Thiago Motta, d’un vut andèr (where do you want to go)? In Bologna you can only have fun

“Hi mom, look at how much fun I’m having.” When at the end of the triumphal 3 to 1 of the Bologna against the Rometo Thiago Motta they asked if he felt emotions for Inter, who in those minutes were winning the scudetto by beating Milan, the coach of Bologna FC he smiled and in order not to be rude to a “who cares” he explained “that he is happy to coach and stay in Bologna”. Here is Mister, after having given football lessons to half of Europe in the last six months, having brought Bologna to fourth place, therefore in the Champions League, two points from Juve and seven from Milan (three lost in the unfortunate first match with the Rossoneri at Dall’ Ara still in August), now give another lesson in ethics and emotional coherence to the Bologna fans, to football fans, to young and old Italian and European citizens: money in sport does not bring happiness.

I would say: but look CR7 among the emirs? Full of money yes, but pissed off like a snake every two by three.

You see Thiago, you know it, because he is a complete man, who walked the field silently, cautiously, combative midfielder (a bit like the reborn Remo Freuler today in Bologna), who has made his good money as a player (and I hope put it away for his pension): it gives him more happiness to see his already very high salary tripled (I would say that the 99% of Italians would not get to what you earn today in Bologna) or experience for a little longer the joys of the 3 to 1 on Monday evening in Rome where it has become eighth king of the capital in not even 45 minutes of play? No, look, I’m telling you because at Juve (or at Milan or in some other so-called “big” – because now Bologna has been in fourth place for months now, what is it? -) such an ecstatic pleasure in making people play and see them play he never finds football again.

Those are people used to winning the championships, the cups, the international awards perhaps boring, shoehorning some strangled and gray victories. They no longer have time for this emotionality, for this passion, for these big heart-shaped eyes that they make down Via San Mamolo in Bologna every morning. That “enjoyment”, which almost a year ago you had wonderfully expressed with the accent on the first syllable, after yet another victory offered to the Bolognese public you think you will find it again in Turin? Really? She knows that won’t be the case. And she knows it very well too.

Then listen to me. Do this: throw the dice again in Piazza Maggiore (provided it isn’t occupied by some film in the square) and try to taste the life of a Bologna in Champions leader with her. As an alchemist trainer and courageous experimenter here, with these guys, and with some others that the Canadian friend will provide, he will be able to have fun and enjoy as she says. If he remains even just another couple of seasons to make the Champions League in rossoblù from David against Goliath, as a Lilliputian against the giants, as a happy man against gangrenous and dark men, he will enjoy it like a mandrill.

And then listen: if today somewhere else they already give you five times what you get in Bologna, who knows if in two years after having made Bologna reach the Champions League final (lost against City, it happens) they will also give you seven or eight? Why not try your luck and show the world that after all, not everything in football and sport is tried, lived, breathed with trillions? In short, dear Thiago (Motta), as they say under the Pavaglione or the Barca “train”, of a vut andèr?