After its seven-year glitch in the Uefa Champions League, Italian football could have no greater satisfaction than a final billing that reads AC Milan vs Juventus. The fact that a collective sigh of dismay is being heaved across the rest of Europe at the supposedly dreary prospect of an all-Italian duel in Manchester only puffs their chests out that extra inch.
After seven years of remorseless calcio bashing it gives Italy incalculable pleasure to blow raspberries at foreign critics that wince at the thought of the footballing Valium to come on May 28.
The Spanish press have spent the past few weeks lambasting Italian football — ”The homeland of the troglodytes of football” was one of their more generous comments.
Closer to home, Manchester United must feel aggrieved that a team they thrashed home and away in February has usurped the Old Trafford finale they so craved. But, in a way that hits upon the beauty of this enthralling competition. Its fascination lies in the fact that any of the eight who made it to the knock-out phase could have been a potential winner.
Marcello Lippi’s team, in particular, proved themselves more than worthy finalists in the recent dissection of Real Madrid. The fallen cup holders and the European game’s paragons of attacking virtues must now eat their words after being completely outshone by the twinkle-toed Old Lady of Turin. After so stylishly making it to the first all-Italian Champions League final, Lippi pointedly remarked that it ”signifies our football isn’t so bad”.
It was a performance that was cherished as Juventus’s most beautiful game in a decade. The achievement is all the more remarkable given that they won the scudetto four days previously. So high was their tempo, so relentless their drive that some fully paid-up members of the sour-grapes foreign media mischievously mentioned the word ”doping”. Says the ever-cool Lippi: ”The team has been in great physical shape but at this point of the season it is motivation that counts. And we have plenty — obviously.”
Juventus have knocked out Deportivo la Coruna, Barcelona and Real in the past three rounds. ”What a shame there is no Spanish team left for the final,” mocked one seasoned Juve watcher. Instead there is Milan, who survived the ”Euroderby”, which sees the vanquished Inter manager, Hector Cuper, almost certainly seeking new employment. In contrast to Juve’s powerful elegance, the San Siro was steeped in so much tension the quality of football was bound to suffer.
After 85 minutes of Serie A caginess, the game caught fire with five minutes of English Premiership electricity. But, to the relief of neutrals everywhere, that was not enough for Inter. Milan may have gone a little off the boil compared to the euphoric scoring spree they enjoyed earlier in the competition, but a one-dimensional Inter team, without their fulcrum Christian Vieiri, is a pretty desperate sight.
Carlo Ancelotti’s men are hoping that they can express themselves better without the stress of the derby factor in the final. (Having said that, their dislike of Juve almost outstrips the rivalry with Inter). Will there be a more spectacular Milan in Manchester? ”We’ll try,” says Ancelotti. ”That is our hallmark. But results are everything and if you’re not playing well you have to fight to win.”
That fight will be considerably easier without having to contend with Juventus’s suspended playmaker Pavel Nedved. Soon after collapsing to his knees to hail his dazzling volley, his legs went from under him again at the sight of the yellow card that ruled him out of the final. Now, ironically, Serie A’s European showpiece is deprived of its finest player. Watching Nedved’s Gazza moment, his Laurent Blanc-esque horror, his Roy Keane devastation, the thought occurred once again that some kind of refereeing arbitration panel should take judgement on these final-missing moments.
While the notion of a bookings amnesty is fundamentally flawed — the potential for professional fouls is tempting if a player knows he will be let off — suspensions could be carried over to the start of the following season in cases such as Nedved’s. The Czech is no monster and once his tears had dried the first thing he did was publicly berate himself for such a silly foul. It was a bookable offence, but not remotely serious enough to warrant such punishment. In his absence, there is even more emphasis on Alessandro del Piero and Gianluca Zambrotta, who both put in incandescent performances against Real, along with chief predator David Trezeguet.
With Nedved, the Italian champions would have been huge favourites. Without him, the contest is 50-50. The teams are extremely well balanced. Milan have Nesta, Maldini and company at the back; Juve boast Buffon, Thuram and Montero. There’s little to choose between Milan’s midfield of Gattuso and Pirlo and Juve’s of Davids and Tacchinardi. And it’s an impossible call whether to bet on Shevchencko and Inzaghi or Del Piero and Trezeguet.
Over in Spain, they are not on tenterhooks waiting to find out. The television audience won’t be plentiful. Real Madrid are too busy trying to salvage the season having let a healthy advantage in La Liga slip away as well. Then they will have to address their defensive frailties.
How the tables have have turned. Earlier in the season, the Italians acknowledged the lessons they had to take on board from Spain’s thrill factor. Now the Spanish are made acutely aware of the deficiencies that have been exploited this year in Europe. They accept that the Italian approach to resilient defending and what Del Piero called ”our special character” are in fact valuable assets. The Madrid newspapers are practically begging Real to buy some defenders urgently — or at the very least defensive midfield players à la Claude Makelele, whose anchoring qualities were so desperately missed in Turin. David Beckham is less popular on the summer wish list that now has Nesta at the top. Milan, though, are certain to laugh off any bids for their supreme centre-half.
Serie A clubs might still have some work to do to restore themselves to their former glories, but the turnaround from the butt of European jokes to grudgingly respected winners is a start. Like it or not, Milan or Juve will give Italy its 10th European title, equalling Spain’s record. England, incidentally, follow with nine. —