The very hot afternoon that pitted Roma against Genoa at the end of May 2017 is universally remembered as Francesco Totti’s farewell match to football. For me, only for me, it remains the “De Bartolo match”. And to understand the reason for this name we need to go back two times: one over twenty years, the other seven. In the first I see myself as a teenager in front of private Roman broadcasters, with Roma about to win their third scudetto and the Capitoline airwaves literally gone crazy. Among these I believe it is impossible for everyone not to remember Orazi and Curiazi, hosted by Antonio De Bartolo and characterized by his catchphrases and hilarious expressions. The reading of the rankings which generally took place with the classic “Roma in first place, Piedmont (Juventus, which the good De Bartolo didn’t want to mention) and then everyone down to hell!” or the closing of the program marked by the immortal “Fortissimamente Roma”, exclaimed by the aforementioned. A way of making television decades away from modern howler monkeys, even more moderate and sober – despite being the chronicles and reflections of those who have never hidden their faith -, certainly more elegant. Today, after so many years, I can no longer follow a sports programme, in fact, often if I happen to see one I’m almost annoyed, they have been reduced to entertainment theatre, where almost everything is always talked about except football.
Antonio De Bartolo was one of those voices capable of always straddling the border between excess and news very well. A fan first of all, someone who saw Roma and followed it with his heart and for whom he suffered and rejoiced. I noticed it precisely on that hot afternoon at the end of May, seven years ago. With the team then coached by Spalletti forced to win against a Genoa already safe and without any objective. It was anything but a simple match, with the Ligurians already leading after 3 minutes thanks to Pellegri’s goal. In the end, only a strike from Perotti in the 90th minute managed to fix the result at 3-2, giving Totti the chance to finish on a high note. But the real “news” of that afternoon was the reaction of the legendary De Bartolo who, mistaking me for a Genoa fan, got angry with me after a goal for the rossoblù, confusing my hands which were nervously and dishearteningly placed on my head in celebration. Only at the end, only in the 90th minute, when he saw me jump up at Perotti’s flick, did he understand the mistake, coming down, hugging me “very strongly” and apologizing a thousand times. Between my laughter. I, who love these things, who see truthfulness and the demonstration of attachment as an advantage, obviously appreciated the whole scene. He took it and from then on every time we met at the Olimpico he threw the joke at me, even inviting me on the show. An invitation which, due to my idiosyncrasy towards the medium of television, I have never accepted. Although I had grown up with his program and had wonderful memories of it, especially in that season which culminated with celebrations that lasted three months. Typical Roman and Romanist excess, an aspect that he embodied brilliantly.
I had learned about the disease. I was happy to see him again at the stadium this season. And his passing was a blow to the heart, another piece of everything we love about “real” football and a Roma fan lost forever. A few days later another monument of austere and passionate journalism that fortunately this city has known: Alberto Mandolesi. Another voice of our childhood and another piece that no one would have ever wanted to see fly away. When the reporters weren’t starlets, when the private broadcaster was able to provide slightly folkloristic but often – as in this case – also professional scenes, we all had something more in our lives. We remember those who managed to communicate from the heart, those who managed to convey their emotions while carrying out a difficult, criticized and often abused job like that of a journalist. Yet I clearly remember those evenings in front of the TV. I remember Claudio Rosi on TVA40 who sent images of the two Capitoline curves, often reading banners (even uncomfortable ones) and penetrating the viewer with his deep voice, or the good Claudio Maggiolini who – no one should blame me – did everything except talk about the match, but whose spasms and heavy breathing when Roma were on the attack spoke volumes about how he could live the ninety minutes. Then there were the Eolo Capacci or the Enzo Mariani, who with his white and blue jacket tirelessly recounted the events of a winning and strong Lazio in those years. Or Claudio Moroni, who transformed a “patch” taken many years earlier – when he told a fan that Roma would buy Beckenbauer – into self-irony, closing all his performances with “Goodbye and Beckenbauer”. Do you know what’s there? Maybe sometimes there were botched characters, but certainly more authentic. And in any case trained, aware of their profession and able to argue everything without ever falling into the banal.
I therefore want to dedicate this article to Antonio De Bartolo and Alberto Mandolesi, convinced that in their passion for following football and Roma they also played a small, but fundamental, role in my life. The evening of Roma-Feyenoord, the anti-historic victory on penalties, the completely yellow-red stadium (also due to the usual, shameful decisions of the competent authorities) are all for them, who will surely have appreciated and rejoiced. A victory that came at the last minute. “In his last minute” citing Mandolesi’s famous commentary relating to the last match Cerezo played with the Giallorossi shirt: the Italian Cup final against Sampdoria in 1986. His goal at the end awarded Roma the trophy and delivered to eternity the images and the voice of the reporter.
Extremely last minute!
Simone Meloni
I like:
I like Loading…