The campaign for the presidency of the FIGC and the role of Inter’s strong man. Who dumped the former CONI president to go to his friend Adriano, splitting Serie A.
Exactly one week from the deadline for submitting candidatures, with all possible competitors committed to obtaining a membership card from FIGC affiliates to avoid subsequent hassles (Malagò with the usual Aniene and Galliani at Enotria), the only certainty is that the second electoral campaign after the events of Zenica and Gravina’s farewell is turning into a trench war between sides. And that Serie A, which aspires to be the locomotive of the movement and was so in June, has split vertically, losing credibility and strength in one fell swoop.
Behind everything and everyone, the figure of Beppe Marotta. He is certainly the most experienced and powerful manager in Italian football, one of the few – perhaps the only one – capable of taking on the responsibility of indicating a path and making others follow it. A role that made him central in the choice of Giovanni Malagò five months ago, in uniting almost all the clubs in the top division around him (19 out of 20, with only Lotito excluded) and in thus defending the FIGC from the assault of those from outside aiming for administration.
Marotta won then and it’s not clear why he has changed his mind now. They tell it and have it told as the tailor who behind the scenes undoes Malagò’s canvas to build that of Adriano Galliani, 82 years old and with a ‘Marotta’ past in the sense that at the end of the 1990s and beginning of the 2000s he was the one who is now his successor and fellow president of Inter.
The question is: why? And what does Marotta gain from it, given that yet another rift between gangs can only bring bad things to Italian football both in concrete terms and in terms of image? Is it really enough to have tied one’s finger in the fact that Malagò as number one of the FIGC began working at Malagò, independent and decision-making, with a clear intervention plan in mind which does not necessarily provide for the involvement of the components except where necessary?
Was the choice of Mancini as coach in place of Conte really enough for Marotta, or that of delegation leader Bianchedi or of Ranieri as president of Casa Italia to throw everything up and change candidate and trusted man? We are talking about Giovanni Malagò, who may not be liked in his ways but who as the leader of Italian sport gave the country the best decade in its history. In short, he too is a champion and not even so old as to pass for boiled.
The Greeks use the term ὕβρις which means arrogance, excessive pride and denial of a limit to oneself. Here, this is the danger that Marotta runs by entering into this new venture as the Richelieu of football, a director without whose consent not a leaf moves. An error of form and substance because it exposes him to the criticism of those who resent his tendency to command and because, if Galliani is ultimately elected for this short (two-year) mandate, it will be difficult for him to free himself from the image of the man put there to carry out a theme written by others. Indeed, from another.
Substance and form, including the battle around the name of Giancarlo Viglione, legislative head of the Football Federation ready to replace the outgoing Brunelli in the role of general secretary. Viglione emerged clean from the mud splashes of the Arbitropoli investigation, interceptions empty of meaning but fuel on the fire of his Inter support. For everyone he is Marotta’s man par excellence. This is not the case, but tying one’s choices to this round of seats without distancing oneself certainly does not help to poison the environment.
