For age reasons, perhaps few now remember the epic of Formia in the nineties, capable of stationing in C2 from 1990 to 1995 (repeating the three seasons played between professionals from 1978 to 1981) and laying the foundations for a consolidated sporting tradition, which as always he went hand in hand with the warmth and constancy of the fans. Few look to Formia as a city where the ultras have their own notable tradition, especially when compared to the Lazio landscape. Yet in days like these, those who live in the stadium and those who live football always winking at its most sentimental aspect, could not help but grasp the ever-wilting seed in a city that in the last thirty years has known a series infinite number of sporting bitternesses, annihilating a real city heritage.
Formia is the last major urban center in Lazio and I think I’m doing no wrong to anyone by saying that its millennial belonging to the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies and to the Terra di Lavoro (until 1927) has meant that the local culture conspicuously recalls that bell . From dialect to many other small facets. Perhaps this is why this historic city – cut in two by the Via Appia and caressed by dozens of rulers who have left an enviable artistic heritage (despite the disastrous Allied bombings of 1944) – is always seen in the regional collective imagination as the ” margins”, a border area. After all, when we talk about Lazio it should be considered a somewhat forced geopolitics, born in the early 1900s by cutting out strips of land from the adjacent regions. Just think of the cultural differences and traditions that exist between the Viterbo area and the southern province of Latina, precisely.
Going back to the reason why I am delighted to write this piece today, the blue-and-whites, after completing an almost perfect path – eliminating the steamroller Sora – reach this final of the Italian Cup of Excellence with the concrete hope of going on and regaining that Serie D lost last year through the back door. The game is played in Artena, a delightful village nestled between Valmontone and Colleferro, and the opponent on duty is LUISS, a team belonging to the university of the same name which has been participating regularly (and with moderate success) in the amateur championships for some years. For the occasion, all the tickets available are sold out, with the largest sector (about 800 seats) destined for the formians, who had already attracted everyone to participate in the previous weeks, aware of the sporting importance of this day.
Warm congratulations must also be made to the organizers of public order. It was even possible to play a match without restrictions and without interference from the Observatory. Sure, I’m throwing a pitiful veil over the meticulousness with which checks are carried out at the Artenese facility (the same one where several league fans have remained out, having been denied access to patches for the cautioned). No one denies the need for searches, God forbid. But sending back paper banners not inciting violence, denying entry to megaphones, sticking to torches and smoke bombs on a totally relaxed and calm day and wanting to make an unmotivated hard punch against those who have taken a day off to enjoy such an event, says a lot about the obtuseness with which the influx phase is sometimes managed in our country. But other than that, congrats! At least it was played with open doors and net of the total capacity!
Already an hour before the kick-off, the formians are intent on preparing the small choreography to be staged at the entrance of the two teams. A banner “Conquer the victory, conquer it for us” stands out on the railing of their sector, while behind – not visible for the whole match – hang the patches with which the white and blue fans have identified themselves for some time now. Furthermore, the presence of the Roccaseccani twins is worth noting, of which a flag is seen on several occasions.
The engines begin to warm up a few minutes before the start and when the teams peek out from the changing rooms, here is the sector occupied by Formia fans colored with many tricolor flags. While, surprisingly, a choreography made up of blue-and-white flags and a central tarpaulin is also staged in the small group of LUISS supporters. Although – it must be said – throughout the match there will be no cheering from their side.
The ultras formiani find themselves managing a crowd that in recent years has rarely been seen following the blue-and-whites, but which attests to a passion that has never died down and an identity well rooted in the city. The boys of CONI curve they do their best to coordinate all those present and what emerges is an excellent singing performance, also colored by a nice scarf and a few torches that fortunately escaped the controls. And crowned by the victory of the Cup, which comes in a painful and not at all obvious way.
Despite the advantage from Form and the numerical inferiority of the opponent, in fact, the white-blues let themselves be reached and even risk the disadvantage on a couple of occasions. The turning point is certainly the second expulsion of the academics and the green light for Formia. The boys led by Gabionetta (an old acquaintance from Turin and Salernitana) at this point go online two more times, dropping the trio and engraving their name on the golden register of the competition.
Big party in the sector occupied by the ultras, who stay with the team for a long time to celebrate the trophy. Cup that passes from the hands of the players to those of the fans, sealing a synergy of intent that has certainly been missing on the shores of the Gulf for a long time. An executive walks by me while I’m capturing the sector and he shouts at me: “See it? This is the heart of Formia”. An image that for a few minutes reconciles with football and obviously makes me smile.
All in all, it is a fair prize for a square that, even in a few units, has never lacked its presence and support. Something by no means obvious in a historic era where top teams are contesting or fighting for the title and where even the clubs – to indulge this crazy attitude – apologize after an unsuccessful match, perhaps even if a good championship is being beyond their possibilities.
I leave the field almost forty minutes after the final whistle. The celebrations lasted a long time, a symptom of how much desire for football there is in Formia and how much the blue-and-white people now hope for a difficult but not impossible climb to the national stage. The stadium has emptied and only the banner – now torn off – of the choreography remains on the fences. It is an image that exudes happy solitude. That of the place where a small page of history was written a few minutes earlier. Now a crowd of cars and vans line up towards the Valmontone motorway exit. Who with the sound of the horn, who with the scarves out the window. I set off towards the station with my bicycle, but I can’t help but appreciate the moment of spontaneous jubilation.
Simone Meloni