Unfinished beauty

‘I believe you must shoot, if you want to score.’

‘In order to win a match, you must score the most goals.’

‘The ball is in, if God so wills it.’

‘A penalty kick is awarded only when the referee blows his whistle.’

‘The match lasts 90 minutes, and it is over only when the referee blows his whistle.’

‘The team making fewer mistakes wins; we made more and we lost.’

‘If we win we’re winners, if we lose we’re losers.’

‘It is better to lose a game 6–0 than to lose six matches 1–0.’

‘A player must keep his eyes on the ball, and his other two on his opponent.’

‘A great player sees a highway where others only see paths.’

‘Managers are like skirts: one year miniskirts are in, the following year you stick them at the back of your wardrobe.’

These are just a few of the quotes, or pearls of wisdom if you like, that Vujadin Boskov bequeathed to the football world. The ‘Grandpa’ arrived in Genoa in the summer of 1986. His story is a long one, beginning in Begec, Serbia. He spent his youth among modest people: his father fixed cars in a garage on the outskirts of Novi Sad. And it was with the Novi Sad team, FK Vojvodina, that Vujadin started playing football, as a midfielder. He eventually totalled up 57 appearances for the Yugoslavia national team, and emigrated when his country’s laws allowed it, upon turning 30. He then spent a season at Sampdoria, followed by two in Switzerland, with Young Boys.

He started coaching in Berne, the outset of a career that would take him all over Europe – he would go on to earn him the nickname of ‘Gypsy Rover’. His first involvement was with Young Boys, then he returned to his hometown team, winning the league in 1966. More yet: in the Netherlands, he coached Den Haag and Feyenoord; then on to Real Zaragoza, Sporting Gijón and Real Madrid in Spain, with whom he won two cups and a league championship.

He taught coaching to people such as Vicente del Bosque, the manager who made Spain World and European Champions, and José Antonio Camacho, who went on to manage China. In 1984, Boskov finally arrived in Italy, at Ascoli, where his brief was to save the team from relegation. He did not succeed, but he led them straight back up the following year, before leaving the Lantern city.

The Serbian was not among the most valued coaches in the Italian championship. Despite him being 56, and notwithstanding his very respectable CV, they still considered him an ‘emerging’ manager. However, it fell to him to impose a vision and a mentality on Mantovani’s team under construction at Sampdoria. Under construction, that is, until that moment. It would be Grandpa Boskov, with his good-natured manners, with his rural wisdom, with his odd assertions, who would turn potential into results, and a good-willed team into a contender in European football. It would take time though, and for a while yet, Mancini and Vialli’s Samp would still be an unfinished beauty.

Mancini’s first impression of the new coach is not exactly great when Boskov turns up at the ‘Il Ciocco’ training camp with an iron-sergeant stance. He gathers all the players in the middle of the pitch, as he will do every day before training for the following five years, and starts giving his lecture. He doesn’t want to see sunglasses, long hair, badly shaved faced, shabby clothes. He wants them up bright and early, all lined up, ready for work. And on he goes with a set of rules and prohibitions that should be followed to the letter. Mancini, perplexed, catches Vialli’s eye. Those who will become known as the ‘Goal Twins’ are thinking the same thing: here comes another Bersellini.

Nevertheless, as days go by, they come to see what the man is made of. He knows anything and everything about football. He is a cunning old fox, as far as the game is concerned. His Italian is comically bad, but he speaks every language and everyone understands him. He knows exactly how to get on the right side of people. Criticisms, insults, whatever comes at him from left, right and centre, none of it seems to affect him in the slightest.

Once he gets to know him properly, Mancini will explain, ‘We were used to sergeant Bersellini’s barracks. Training sessions had to be so quiet you could hear the grass growing. When Boskov arrived, it was like coming back to life: you were actually looking forward to training, because you were having fun, joking, and that smart-ass Vujadin would surprise us every day – he would make us sweat with a smile on our faces. He’s the kind of guy who really puts his trusts in you; he helps you believe in yourself. Off the pitch he will lend you a hand: if you have a problem he tries to work it out with you, maybe in the bar, buying you a drink. You never talked to Bersellini. Boskov, though, was an important anchor for us, especially for the young ones like me – far from my family, and always on the go.’

Boskov trusts Roberto, and he is generally popular with the young ones. He promotes from the youth team players like Maurizio Ganz, Antonio Paganin and Gianluca Pagliuca, who came from the Bologna youth ranks and little by little will go on to replace the first-string keeper. Hans-Peter Briegel arrives from Verona, the Italian champions; Luca Fusi comes in from Como. Toninho Cerezo joins from Roma to replace Graeme Souness in the midfield. The Brazilian, contemporary of Falcao and Zico, is 31; the Red-and-Yellows have traded him, because they are sure he has nothing more to give. They are wrong: he is just what Samp needs, the missing piece of the jigsaw.

However, although the foundations for the season are good, the beginning is terrifying: Sampdoria are knocked out of the Coppa Italia, and in the league, after six games, they are still stuck on three points. But the team recovers, and although it proves to be Napoli’s year (led by Diego Maradona, they will go on to win the league), the Blucerchiati finish fifth, on equal points with AC Milan. This necessitates a play-off to determine which side will qualify for the Uefa Cup. At a neutral venue in Turin, Sampdoria are beaten 1–0 by the Red-and-Blacks, the goal coming from Daniele Massaro on the counter-attack. Europe will have to wait. During the season, Samp have played well in spells but they still don’t have that maturity, that ruthlessness, which would allow them to compete with more experienced opponents.

One of the season’s low points came after the Atalanta–Sampdoria match on 18 January 1987. The referee, Mr Boschi from Parma, had wrongly awarded a penalty to the Bergamo club, which was converted by Magrin for the only goal of the game. Afterwards, Mancini, blood still boiling, announced to reporters, ‘Boschi is useless. He targeted eleven players wearing white and gave them a hard time throughout the match. He doesn’t even deserve refereeing the third division – maybe he could referee a married men v. bachelors match. We complain about football violence, but supporters really ought to think about beating up referees instead of clobbering each other. Then we could really start thinking about playing football, because today, thanks to Mr Boschi, we haven’t actually seen much of that.’ A rant, completely out of place and completely over the top.

The next day, in Bogliasco, Mancini apologised for the outburst: he had been angry and had lost his temper. Expecting a fine, he was instead referred to the Football Disciplinary Commission ‘because of comments to the press, considered harmful to the referee’s reputation’ and given a three-match suspension. Azeglio Vicini, who had named Mancini in his squad for an international match, was forced to reconsider his decision amid a storm of criticism.

Mancini asked for understanding: ‘It was madness, I would have never said anything like that in cold blood. But those of you who call me “a football terrorist” should try walking in my shoes. When I was 13, I was taken to Bologna, where I had to grow up on the spot because of football. I studied for a couple of years in school, I didn’t read very much, because football doesn’t leave much room for anything: one or two training sessions per day, you eat, you sleep, you go on a training camp … there is never time to live normally, like other boys of that age do. And all the time, the next match is inside your mind, that match you just cannot afford to lose … then you do lose it, in such a way that – for once in your life – you just blow up. I acted properly until last Sunday, then I couldn’t take it anymore.’

Taking stock of his life, he swore he would never talk about referees again. But in the years that follow, he will find himself unable to keep his word: his temper won’t let him.

The good news of the season has come in the shape of the guys who are being called the ‘Goal Twins’ – the pair that Vujadin immediately promoted to the first team, at Pino Lorenzo’s expense (Lorenzo will, in fact, be sold to Cesena the following year). Gianluca Vialli, with 12 goals, is the league’s second top scorer, behind AC Milan’s Pietro Paolo Virdis (17 goals). Roberto Mancini now says he does not want to leave Genoa anymore. ‘I’m doing well now,’ he says, ‘I live by the sea, people are not in my face the whole time, everything is alright with president Mantovani. I’m happy here … I used to feel bad because I felt useless; they showered me with money but I wasn’t playing. Now everything has changed – and the best is yet to come!’ He is at peace with himself, and on the football pitch it has been showing. Since the ties imposed by Ulivieri and Bersellini were broken, he has become a true number 10, an attacking midfielder, a man for all seasons. The Serbian coach understands what Mancini’s best position is: he was a wing half who had been playing as a striker out of necessity, but finally, he has become the playmaker, capable of a stroke of genius, and of scoring improbable goals all over the place.

So at the beginning of the 1987/88 season, the general feeling is that ‘the naughty kids’ team, the on-and-off champions, have started playing for real.’ Discreetly, people start to talk about a possible scudetto. ‘A scudetto? Why not?’ asks Boskov. ‘I believe that this team, with Mancini and Vialli’s growth, with the arrival of two well-known champions such as Briegel and Toninho Cerezo, playing alongside real strong athletes like Vierchowod and Pellegrini, could face up to any opponent. On a technical level, my team can measure up to any other; they are determined, I see them play courageously and with a lot of self-abnegation. These are the qualities that make a team great, and Sampdoria now have the right to be called such. They only need to learn to be more ruthless, tougher in the box.’

Roberto Mancini agrees entirely. ‘I like this new Samp­doria more and more,’ he says, ‘and I think no aims are unachievable for us. I said earlier that Napoli were favourites, and AC Milan their best opponents. I haven’t changed my mind. Still, considering that we have been marching in step with Napoli for over a season, in the championship and in the Coppa Italia, I can’t see why we cannot dream, too. Once we used to panic when we were classed as favourites. Not anymore. We could really be this year’s biggest surprise.’

The dream, though, remains just out of reach, as AC Milan take the championship – their first of the Berlusconi era. Sampdoria repeat their achievement of 1985, finishing fourth, eight points off the top, to earn themselves a ticket to Europe. And on 19 May 1988, at the Communal Stadium in Turin, Salsano’s beautiful left-foot shot beats Torino’s keeper Lorieri and flies in just under the crossbar in the seventh minute of the second period of extra time. With this goal, Sampdoria with their second Coppa Italia.

Fast forward to 10 May 1989. Berne. Barcelona v. Sampdoria in the final of the European Cup-Winners’ Cup. The Samp boys got here by beating the Swedes of Norrköping, the Germans of Carl Zeiss Jena, Romania’s Dinamo Bucaresti in the quarter-final and the Belgians of Mechelen in the semi-final. In the stands of the Wankdorf Stadium, there are over 20,000 Sampdoria supporters. It is their European dream come true, and no one wants to miss it.

They are facing the Blaugrana, coached by Johann Cruyff – a club with two Cup-Winners’ Cups in their cupboard already (1975 and 1982), and a more experienced line-up than Samp. But it is not only a matter of experience: hit by injuries and disqualifications, the Blucerchiati are missing half of their defence. Vierchowod and Carboni are not playing, and Mannini is returning after a long period of absence – in fact, he will be replaced 27 minutes into the game. Vialli and Cerezo are also in bad shape.

Perhaps due to these ailments, or the charisma of their opponents, or nerves at reaching the unknown territory of a major European final, the Blucerchiati enter the arena like sacrificial lambs. Just three minutes into the game, Sampdoria go behind: a defensive mistake, and Julio Salinas, with a header, scores the opening goal. It stays like this for the rest of the first half: the team from Genoa remain timid, while the Catalans launch many dangerous counter-attacks.

In the second half, Sampdoria’s efforts improve, and they almost grab an equaliser. But with 15 minutes remaining, Barcelona’s Lopez Rekarte – on for Beguiristain – wraps up the 2–0 win with a perfect diagonal shot. On the stands, supporters are throwing stones and chanting ‘Thanks, thanks anyway’.

Both on the field and in the locker room, tears are shed, together with recriminations and reflections. Mancini is the most critical: ‘Two penalty kicks should have been awarded to me, but the referee didn’t see any. Did we have a weak bench? I don’t think so, we had too many injuries. In the future we will have to plan better for that.’

Vujadin Boskov is more relaxed about it. ‘Barcelona deserved to win,’ he says, ‘we flunked the second half, when we exposed ourselves, giving them the opportunity to counter-attack. I would also like to add that, with our team lined up properly, Barcelona would have never won. Is this the end of an era? Don’t you say that. We have the chance to do great things.’ He will be proved correct, but the next day, the headlines still read, ‘In Europe, too, Samp are an unfinished beauty.’

Luckily, the championship is far from over, and likewise the Uefa Super Cup and the Coppa Italia. Sampdoria’s league position has not been looking too healthy, but with an angry recovery they manage to grab fifth place, which means they are off to Europe again. The Super Cup final doesn’t go so well: AC Milan deny the unfinished beauty time and space on the ball, and they win the trophy. However, at the Giovanni Zini Stadium in Cremona (Marassi is undergoing renovation work ahead of the 1990 World Cup), Sampdoria beat Maradona’s Napoli by an impressive four goals to nil, overturning a first-leg deficit to claim their third Coppa Italia. The last goal, the one that wraps up the match, is a penalty kick taken by Mancini, who is then sent from the pitch in the final minutes, together with the team masseur, following a brawl. But the cup is Sampdoria’s, and ‘The Czar’ Vierchowod makes sure it is lifted up to the sky.