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Diego Naples He went out to the streets, scarves, flags, banners and game shirts, smartphones with songs dedicated to the Pibe de Oro, car radio with reports of matches from the golden age. The city that loved the Argentine champion is transversal, fifty years who rejoiced in the stands and teenagers who only saw him on YouTube but then decided to tattoo his name on their forearm.
The city of Diego did not make itself felt in the places where the champion lived: a via Scipione Capece, under Diego’s historic house, just three relaxed guys: “We wanted to say hi, we didn’t know where to go”; at the Paradiso hotel they no longer even know what Maradona was doing in the rooms; “His” restaurant, the Sacristy, is gone because it is becoming a luxurious villa.
Thus, without precise points where to go to show and tell the pain, the city of blue passion has looked for the symbolic places of Maradona: the murals of San Giovanni and Quartieri, the San Paolo stadium, the blue door of Campo Paradiso in Soccavo which is now a pile of rubble but preserves the soul of that team that made a city dream thanks to Diego.
It was in Soccavo, in Campo Paradiso, that a small group of enthusiasts gathered. Lights on, choirs dedicated to Diego, leaf banner made on the spot: “This is your Immense Paradise D10”. Maurizio Lezzi sings in choirs, it was he who summoned the people of Soccavo and Pianura to that place that “from today has become sacred for us fans,” he explains with a voice broken by emotion. Suddenly a gray-haired man rushes, the mask of his face wet with tears “I lost mom and dad, I feel that same pain,” he seeks hugs but is rejected because fear of the virus is stronger than emotion, he stays close and sings “oh mama mama mama” sobbing.
A gazelle with the gun passes by and slows down, the concentration should be demobilized but the military understands, they pass, then they pass in front of the group trying to maintain adequate distances. They do not interrupt the lay function of Soccavo.
A San Juan, in front of gigantic mural by Jorit A somewhat scattered farewell is staged made of Maradonian music played at high volume, flowers, candles and scarves. In a corner a boy hugs his girlfriend and cries: «I had never seen him play but he was my father’s idol who is gone. He would be suffering today and I, I don’t even know why, I feel the same pain.
People search for each other, gather, memories and stories flow, the group becomes a crowd. He passes a flyer and asks to dismember the crowd, nobody protests, we walk away and then we look again at Diego’s proud face and remember the days of footballing emotions and the recovery of the city that went through the blue jersey.
too to the Spanish neighborhoods Diego’s mural becomes a place of pilgrimage and the choirs rise: “Diego, Diego.” Someone printed brochures mourning “Diego Armando Maradona passed away, Napoli crying, Hello God of Soccer”. A woman who lives in front of the immense design displays Boca’s shirt with the number 10, the first one that Diego wore. People bring candles and the wall facing the square becomes a long sequence of flames behind which are those who pray, those who swear, those who watch the compilations of the most beautiful goals on their smartphone.
But Maradona’s real, unique and unforgettable home was the San Paolo, it has been decided that the stadium lights will remain on throughout the night as a sign of mourning and remembrance. At first glance, the exterior of the plant remains empty, just a few cold eyes with blue scarves. Then the people of the dance leave the other places and decide that the real celebration must take place in that place: many arrive, thousands are made in front of the entrances to Turn B. Here the secular ceremony is less contrite and more explosive. Someone hangs a photo on the bars, others light candles, the choirs begin that make Fuorigrotta tremble As in the heyday of El Pibe, smoke bombs are lit as in the days of the goals that made Diego’s great rivals Napoli tremble. A very long cloth wraps around the outside of the curve “O Immortal King, your banner will never stop flying.” And that banner is really waving, it’s a gigantic flag with Diego’s stylized face and his number; The fabric is very large, it covers everything, it becomes the symbol of Neapolitan pain that is expressed with the voice of the curve shouting the name of the champion who is no longer there.
On the other side of the city, in Capodichino, there are those who stay away from the demonstrations and move in silence. Gennaro Savanelli, Diego’s personal pilot, the man who for years made his little jet take off, taking the champion to all the cities of Italy and the world. Savanelli gets excited when he thinks about the last meeting, at the airport, in Malpensa. Diego had to land in Turin to be heard by Judge Guariniello, but his flight was transferred to Milan: “Gennaro, come here with your jet, we have to run there.” Commander Savanelli caught up with his champion friend, from a distance he saw him sweaty and emboldened: “When Diego saw me, after so many years, he started to cry: you stayed the same, look how reduced I am,” the commander is excited.
The same tears from the whole city that his myth cries and has made an appointment for tonight: before the Europa League games, each fan is asked to place a cloth or a candle in the window and then, after the minute of silence In the countryside, the city that looks out on the balconies will have to start the loudest applause ever heard, the last one dedicated to Diego.
Last update: 23:41 © REPRODUCTION RESERVED
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