Gian Claudio Guiducci
Centravanti Nato

THE REVIEW

Among the formidable, ancient, and indissoluble phenomena that have been inherently connected to our beloved Belpaese since time immemorial, avoiding unnecessary references to the recent Berlusconi bubble - which, like the New Economy, must inevitably implode sooner or later - there exists and persists an utopian phenomenology that is becoming more scientifically structured and semi-critically accepted by the majority of the populace.

By the numbers, the so-called “Game of Football” (which no longer seems to recall even a distant memory of its original suffix) is entirely plebiscitarily accepted and is part of the daily lives of geographically multiple masses beyond just those shaped like a boot: an inextricable and impregnable network intricately orchestrated by a multiform framework (enormous economic interests, connections with politics, and so on plunging down) in which the ultimate consumer often finds themselves unknowingly ensnared: a phenomenon of horizontal induction pro obscurat-mentis that exhibits the shivering hallmarks and such capillary scientificity; it was understood, and not coincidentally widely exploited for his electoral fortunes, by the aforementioned Presidentissimo (praise be) in the early years of his "para-political fortunes."

But enough with the empty chatter: in the event that any of you skeptics might harbor doubts about my pretextual words (as a child I loved playing football: moreover, I was also a decent right-back) on the current real nature surrounding the rotating world of Football and also what the evolutionary processes of past years have been: personally, I tend to believe that the current reality overwhelmingly surpasses the narrative contained therein.

Well, at least one evening while settling comfortably on one's deserved sofa, instead of indulging in the umpteenth and absolutely unmissable big match [there is an embarrassment of choice: various championships, Italian Cups, Euro League, Champions League, Confederation Cups, Nonno Cups, European Championships, Qualifications, Playoffs, Friendlies, World Cups, Juniors, Amateurs, Promotions, Serie B, C1, C2, D4, sunken... surely one cannot say we lack material] injects this scant hour of soberly diluted testimony of life: a sort of video-memory of the footballer, but above all of the man Carlo Petrini: someone who at this point in his life, unfortunately for Him, narrates by virtue of “having nothing left to lose”: severely debilitated in body, marvelously present in lucid intellect and memory recall, retraces without any rhetoric and without seeking "absolution" for himself, his para-football career highlighting the thousand aberrations (normality?) that seem to have become an integral part of this massive socio-media circus, narrating with absolute precision, without sparing names and well-defined circumstances, the events this life has seemingly and generously granted him: growing up in a family of modest economic means, projected from a very young age into the already opulent (trivialities compared to contemporary times) elite of the football world of the late 60s.

It goes from doping (forced), about and on which no one dared to say a word, to the weekly clandestine betting for a literal descent into the darkest corners of our untouchable "favorite toy".

“But let it be clear that this conversation remains circumcised among us..”. You said it dear Trap!