The season in one game. The last one, not the next… The derby was archived with the lights off. Like the red and black light! Blackout. An anaphylactic shock caused by intimacy with a surreal championship. Who knows – perhaps – my friend Pasquale is really right when he would like to close the 2023/24 tournament in the “sad” setting of Teramo, in the home (not even that much…) of little Monterosi. Which then reminds us – inevitably – of one of the darkest pages in the recent history of Foggia. With Somma within reach of… trolley, sitting well before playing at the “departure gate” of the Gino Lisa, and a bunch of amorphous extras on the pitch. Delio Rossi would then arrive to change the already written destinies of that group capable of “haranguing the crowd” and achieving a “Bonacina” (with the kind participation of some supporting “actor”) from the promotion.
The Audace has won again. You struck by deploying a military apparatus trained in Capitanata. Millico wasn’t there. The “magic” of Potenza has not been repeated. Vincenzino is a lot of stuff! It is the arrogance of single thought. Football is irresponsible talent. It cannot be done without. When Sandokan led the assault, Mompracem’s tiger cubs became ravenous! The former Toro’s injury (with rather singular dynamics and evolution!) is the latest joke of an “indecipherable” year! The grotesque clash between Ercolani and Riccardi is the memory of the chasm opened by the stops of Marzupio and Carillo, who as a couple were not bad at all. Schenetti’s progressive eclipse represented – in all likelihood – the final act of a love that never really blossomed between the attacking midfielder’s class and his ability to be a leader. And then again the opaque management of the changes, the evaporation of Rolando and Gagliano, the scratch of Antonacci (one of the best, and this is not a positive sign, because when a domestique makes the sprint in place of the sprinter there is something to be reviewed in the team strategy!) and the short circuit of Tascone and Odjer, on whose sturdy shoulders the Rossoneri comeback of recent months had rested.
The journey is ending. We leave the calculations to those who make arithmetic their profession. Winning or losing to reach the post season is a topic that doesn’t appeal to us. You enter the green carpet to do your best. Always. To honor the shirt, to build emotions. The blender of seasonal vicissitudes has mixed joys (few) and sorrows (many and of varying intensity). The minimum goal (which at a certain point – however – had become maximum!) it was centered thanks to a run-up which – in the end – weighed down the players’ hocks and the lightness of a aficion returned with devotion to populate the Zaccheria on the evening of the derby. The perplexed gaze turned towards the future, the feeling of impoverishment of dreams…
In truth, there was a flash of hope. That signature in the hospital. It was just the exercise of an option, it’s true. A pure strengthening of bargaining power in the face of offers that could be delivered by the parties in via Gioberti. That it concerned – however – Vincenzo Millico is an encouraging sign to say the least. A fixed point in a crucible of uncertainties. We will have to start again from those who fuel passions and support with their characteristics a project which – without “ifs or buts” – must be a winner this time. “Dignified” tournament? No thanks, we have already given.
Whether we then want to challenge the world with a new assault playoff, we can also like this as a virtuous plan. Even if the impression is that the long wave of an insurrectional “mystique” has run out. That the mountain to be climbed is too impervious for the limited energy left (at least as seen with Cerignola). That there are few who believe it. That the novelty of a Mr. Rossi who can shuffle the cards on the table is not there. In summary, that salvation is already enough for a team too exhausted by events to “give” fans dreamlike thoughts. Just impressions, for heaven’s sake… which we would be happy to be contradicted by the facts. Meanwhile, people are skeptical and questioning. The only consolation appears to be that of falling asleep in memories. It was April 23, 2017, the day of nemesis. I was there. And I don’t forget…
