In Turin it is a gloomy November day, stuck in the year 1988. The cold clings to the ankles of the twenty-two men on the pitch, while the Comunale is filled like a shell, crammed with scarves and expectations. Juventus-Napoli it is worth much more than a single clash, even if the championship is just approaching its halfway point.
The Bianconeri, led by Dino Zoffthey are the usual concentration of solidity and points to be greedily sucked away. Tacconi is in goal, Galia, De Agostini, Favero, Bruno move behind. De Agostini and Mauro work in midfield, up front Zavarov tries to infuse the inspiration of the East into the Turin football order. It’s a Juventus that aims for the Scudetto in no uncertain terms.
Napoli arrives at the titanic clash still carrying the gold dust of the scudetto from two seasons earlier and the sure step of those who know how to live in the uptown areas. Ottavio Bianchi guides him with a working-class spirit: rigorous 4-4-2, Garella in goal, Ferrara and Renica behind, Bagni and De Napoli doing the woodwork in the middle, Maradona to sew the game a few meters further back, Bald and Carnevale in front like two different blades: one elegant, the other rough.
All the requirements for a balanced match, without goals, as tight as nautical ropes would seem to exist. Instead the game immediately takes another direction. The one about the flood of goals. Only three minutes pass and… Carnival scores. Free kick taken by Maradona, the center forward passes behind the rearguard and slots it in. The Municipality suddenly finds itself frozen.
Juventus tries to restore order with the usual Savoy patience, dribbles, widens, measures. Napoli, on the other hand, runs forward with an almost insolent lightness. On the thirtieth Careca scores the first goal of a photonic day escaping his controller: first Brio saves on the line, then the Brazilian pushes it back towards goal. At the forty-fourth minute he doubles, once again widening to the right. Mradona serves in the middle, and the ball deflected by Ferrara reaches the Carioca, who unleashes a low shot. Two technical gestures of a consummate professional of an ancient and silent profession: slamming it into other people’s doors. Zero to three at the end of the first half: sensational debacle for Madama.
In the interval Turin swallows heaps of amazement. There are whispers in the stands, in dismay. The recovery, however, changes pace. Juve is back on track. Power – placed in front of the goalkeeper by a bright pocket of Zavarov – shorten immediately. He, the Soviet prophet, also authorizes dreams of recovery: De Agostini puts it in the center and he puts it inside, extending into a slide. At minute fifty-eight Zoff almost, unhopefully, took it back. The home flags also begin to wave again, breaking the air thick with cold.
Nothing more than a fragile illusion. In fact, Careca reappears, one step ahead of everyone, and scores the fourth Parneopean goal with a delightful flying lob. The comeback adrenaline – for the supporters of the elderly lady – soon turns into symptoms of depressive syndrome. But it’s not over yet. The match must continue to unfold in its greedy pyrotechnic thirst. Juve shortens againthis time with De Agostini, on a penalty. The public once again entertains the hypothesis of an absurd draw. But Napoli continues to play the game with order and calm, like a team that knows its specific weight. Five minutes from the end another penalty arrives, this time for the Azzurri: Renica on the spot, short run-up, glacial shot: be at five. Juventus’ defeat was sealed. Sparkling success for Maradona – albeit not on target – and his group, dragged along by a photonic Careca.
At the end of the championship Napoli will place second behind Inter, while Juventus will not go beyond fourth place. But that November match remains far beyond the rigidity of statistics and trophies. A clash overflowing with goals and dramatic shots from the first to the last moment, as rarely happens when two high-flying contenders compete. Now that atavistic rivalry comes knocking again, in the round scheduled for tomorrow. Back in Turin, again for the top positions. It’s difficult to imagine eight goals, but the contest will be close as usual.
Juventus – Napoli, moreover, is a cultural clash even before a football one: the unshakeable determination of Savoy against Neapolitan creativity. Philosophies destined to run on intangible lines practically forever.
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