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The man of the match is Paolo Rossi (ITA). The sign on the Camp Nou scoreboard, really new at the time, appeared as the teams continued to play. It was on July 8, 1982, in Barcelona, Italy beat Poland in the World Cup semifinal with a double from the center forward: almost normal administration after the real feat, the three goals scored against Brazil. That writing not only celebrated a footballer. Not just a national team, and a nation, ours. That writing closed one era and inaugurated another. Three days later, Rossi himself opened the scoring in the final against Germany, and the holidays in a suddenly unrecognizable Italy, overwhelmed with joy and excitement.
Thanks to Paolo Rossi, whom everyone from that moment and forever called Pablito – he really looked like a child, and we thought so until the end, so much so that the news of his death seems impossible – Italy changes its mood. In common perception, the leading years ended and the 80s really began: the ebb, the Saturday night fever, the most beautiful football championship in the world, Milan to drink, etc.
It was a perception; not reality. 1982 was a terrible year for terrorism. But that collective celebration was the signal that the country wanted to turn the page, close the time of street confrontations, political violence, ideological battle. Everyone is free to distinguish the line between lightness and superficiality, to cultivate nostalgia, to construct value rankings, to make their own judgment; the fact is that it was so.
Paolo Rossi had come into the limelight four years earlier, at the World Cup in Argentina. He was not a flashy footballer. On the contrary, its main quality was that you did not see it coming. Very fast. With a sense of position and unique purpose. With a name and surname so widespread that it has thousands of homonyms, allowing anyone to see themselves in it. He grew up in the province: the explosion in Vicenza, then the surprise landing in Perugia, then the disqualification for (marginal) participation in the gambling scandal, finally the arrival at Juve: time to celebrate the 1982 championship with a handful minutes on the field of play, and leave for Spain. Bearzot was waiting for him. He defended everything and everyone, in the first three disappointing games. It gave him confidence even after a less than brilliant test with Maradona’s Argentina. Thursday in moderation when Pablito unlocks against Brazil. Only at the end of the semifinal against Poland did he not hold back and stepped onto the pitch to hug him.
There is an image in which Rossi, between one squeeze and another, notices that bright phrase on the Camp Nou blackboard, and points it out smiling happily. He wrote it himself, in his autobiography: “Well, I would like to be remembered with a single painting: blue shirt on, arms open to the sky: Paolo Rossi, the man of the match.” And so we remember it: eternally young. Apart from “he died yesterday at 64”; a little boy – Pablito – forever.
December 10, 2020 (change December 10, 2020 | 03:51)
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