The smouldering red flares, hail of plastic cups and chants of “LUKA! LUKA! LUKA!” did not bother Luciano Spalletti. The creases of his bronzed head, sheened not from the foaming waterfalls of beer that cascaded down from the stands, scattering vituperative journalists in the press box.
As in Dortmund when Italy played Albania, the Italians were well outnumbered in Leipzig. More than 25,000 Croatians were in town. They had taken over Marktplaz and made the RB Arena feel like one of those Euro League games which NBA players from Europe tell their American counterparts about.
On the eve of the match, Italy’s centre-back Alessandro Bastoni said the word “fear” has never once figured in his vocabulary. At least not in a football context. “Fear is for much worse, like being diagnosed with a bad illness.”
But the atmosphere reverberating off the old East German facade to this modern ground was hostile. Other games have been louder at this European Championship. But none have been more intimidating or this wild.
There was pandemonium when the immense Gigio Donnarumma saved Luka Modric’s penalty, then made another point-blank save only to helplessly concede in the same action.
(Dan Mullan/Getty Images)
It called to mind an old Spalletti adage. “Uomini forti. Destini forti.” Stand up and be counted and fortune might smile on you. Spalletti went for it. He was not afraid of losing and finishing third in Group B, leaving Italy’s fate in the lap of the Gods.
“Afraid? What kind of a question is that?” Spalletti vented afterwards. “What am I afraid of? If I were afraid I would have come here like you journalists and watched the game. I would have done another job and come to watch the game. I would have bought a ticket but they would have given me one anyway. I’ve lost lots of games in my life. I’m not afraid to lose a football game.”
As the clock ticked into stoppage time, it wasn’t the eyes of the 10,000 Italy fans burning a hole in the back of Spalletti’s Armani jacket. It was the thought of disappointing someone else. “Worries and concerns are part and parcel of the job,” he said. “Every time we go somewhere, kids hang outside the team hotel. They wait for us for hours, just for that five-second opportunity to stare at us.”
And how they waited for a goal on Monday night. Patiently, agonisingly they waited until the last second for a goal that seemed like it might never come.
Spalletti tried to shake things up for Croatia. The 3-5-2 he experimented with in the United States in March and in Italy’s final warm-up game against Bosnia in Empoli unexpectedly returned. “I actually did my dissertation at Coverciano on it,” Spalletti fired back at the reporters insinuating the system felt ad-hoc.
Mateo Retegui and Giacomo Raspadori started in attack. Federico Chiesa and Gianluca Scamacca dropped to the bench. But still Italy struggled to score. They passed and passed and passed then switched and crossed. And yet a goal eluded them in part because Croatia goalkeeper Dominik Livakovic denied Bastoni a second headed goal in three games at the Euros.
When Italy fell behind, an inexperienced team didn’t seem to know how to react. In the city of Johann Sebastian Bach this was no symphony. Spalletti tried to appear composed amid what felt like desperation. He brought on Chiesa then Scamacca, while also keeping Retegui on. He gave Nicolo Fagioli, a playmaker, his tournament debut.
Spalletti’s side left it agonisingly late (Maryam Majd/Getty Images)
“We were ultra-offensive,” Spalletti railed. “We played with six attackers. The guys who came on for us are giants in terms of what they showed, they did things perfectly.”
His last substitution was his final roll of the dice. Lazio winger Mattia Zaccagni entered along with Fagioli. No one had been particularly enthused by his selection in the squad. It hadn’t been Zaccagni’s best season. No one was clamouring for the left winger to come on. As Zaccagni ran out, Modric trudged off and received a standing ovation after becoming, aged 38, the oldest player ever to score at the European Championship.
When asked in a recent interview to name the player he enjoys watching most, Zaccagni said: “Modric.” The 29-year-old had grown up in Cesena, not far from Ancona where many Italian holidaymakers catch the ferry to Croatia. His favourite player as a boy, however, was Italian. “(Alessandro) Del Piero has always been my idol,” Zaccagni revealed. “I had all his posters as a kid. We saw each other at Coverciano (the Italian Football Federation’s coaching school), before we came out to Germany when the manager invited him and the other magical No 10s (Roberto Baggio, Gianni Rivera, Francesco Totti and Giancarlo Antognoni) to training. We’ve stayed in touch since then on Instagram.”
Zaccagni and Del Piero at Coverciano on June 3 (Claudio Villa/Getty Images)
Del Piero means different things to different people. But he transcended all tribalism when he scored that curling breakaway goal in the 2006 World Cup semi-final against hosts Germany in Dortmund. Never in Zaccagni’s wildest dreams did he think he would bend in a similar, far-corner strike for his country. But then the fourth official signalled eight minutes of added time.
On Alessandro Del Piero’s birthday, a reminder of when he put the Azzurri in the 2006 World Cup Final
Some game. Some goal. Some team…pic.twitter.com/4kFxAXGEq1
— A Funny Old Game (@sid_lambert) November 9, 2022
In the 98th minute, the intrepid centre-back Riccardo Calafiori drove forward, a quintessential heavy touch drawing a circle of Croatia players around him like a tightening lasso. As the space collapsed around him, he nudged the ball out for Zaccagni to hit first time. Over on the Italian bench, the players got up, they crept into the technical area and followed it in. The next thing they knew they were down in the corner under the Italian end. Guglielmo Vicario, the back-up goalkeeper, was the first to reach Zaccagni. “Underneath them all I was destroyed,” Zaccagni grinned.
The poem Ode to Joy was written in Leipzig in 1789. This, however, was poetry in motion. Del Piero’s goal sent Italy to Berlin in 2006 for the final. Zaccagni’s sends them to the same stadium for a round-of-16 tie with Switzerland.
“So many things flashed through my head,” Zaccagni smiled. “I’m speechless. I’m over the moon. I didn’t realise it was the last kick of the game. I didn’t think twice about it.”
And perhaps it’s best he didn’t. He might have realised the goal he scored risked retiring Modric from international football. But Zaccagni will find it hard to think about anything else now. As will Italy. As will the kids who hang around waiting to see the players outside the team hotel or their training base in Iserlohn.
(Top photo: Masashi Hara/Getty Images)
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