He gave it all for that jersey

A conversation with Marco Lanna

He comes from Genoa. He was born among the hard-core Sampdoria fans and raised in the Blucerchiati youth teams. Marco Lanna was a full-back who started playing on the wing, but showed his competence as a sweeper, too. He made his debut in the 1987/88 season, when he was only 19. Grandpa Vujadin needed him to fill gaps in the defensive line, and he was never scared to gamble on those who excelled in the youth teams. But any apprenticeship has its difficulties, especially at the beginning. ‘I played first rank very early,’ says Lanna, ‘so I was an easy target, let’s put it that way. Sometimes, rightly so. In any case, when you’re young, a good telling off can be useful.’

Marco Lanna, class of 1968, was four years younger than the iconic players around whom Sampdoria revolves. He had to go through a qualifying period before he was fully accepted among them. He remembers his initiation to the club with pleasure, now that he is 44. He has just finished a spell as a sports director with Piacenza, and he is now looking around ‘to see if there is anything interesting to be done in the football world.’

‘I respected my teammates a lot, and older players in general,’ he says of those early days. ‘So at the beginning I just tried to keep my head down and work hard. I must say, though, that Mancini, Vialli, Vierchowod, Mannini and Pellegrini, welcomed me warmly right from the start; they always tried to help me out. They knew that, by doing so, they didn’t just support me, but they made our team stronger. They helped me grow, both as a man and as a player.’

What was the atmosphere like in the club, the year that Samp won the league?

‘It was an experience that I doubt could be repeated. Times have changed. Paolo Mantovani built that team not only by buying the most talented young players on the market, but he also chose the men, and educated them. The whole club, from the president to Paolo Bórea, from Claudio Bosotín the warehouse-keeper, to Arnuzzo – well, it was a family. Training with Boskov was a pleasure; it was real fun. The manager taught us how to handle difficulties in a serene manner … Vujadin was hardly ever angry – or maybe he just didn’t show it. Still, what he conveyed to us was confidence. Thanks to him, we used to take the field serenely, looking forward to a good game. I played with other teams [Roma in Italy, Salamanca and Real Zaragoza in Spain], but I never came across such a close group of people, having fun both on and off the pitch. We were a top club, achieving aims that only a few thought we would achieve. Let’s say that, after that [Cup-Winners’ Cup] final in Berne, in 1989, we started a winning cycle that lasted until the 1991/92 season. Even though we lost the European Cup final against Barcelona, those five years were the best for me, with regard to my spell at Sampdoria, and to my entire football career. I believe that all our fans remember that time happily: it was a time when you would be glad to go to the football stadium; when you knew that – besides the results – you would be watching a good game. Even today, many years on, when people see us, they remember those moments with joy – not only because of our victories, but for the positive vibes of those years.’

Going back to the tellings-off: did Roberto Mancini give you many of those?

‘Yes,’ Lanna grins, ‘he used to do that a lot. When he saw that something wasn’t working during a game, he came up and told me, straight to my face. He was just trying to fix mistakes. I remember that, during a cup match, I failed to control the ball and the other team scored … as soon as the referee blew his whistle, he came running to the defence line, shouting all sorts. I was angry at the time, but I knew he was doing it for me and for the team. It was a sort of wake-up call. For this reason, I always took his screaming as something positive. It was a cold shower, a challenge. I wanted to be a better player, in order to show him that I deserved to be with Samp. It was hard on the football field, but things were different in the dressing-room: we would discuss the game more calmly and with more ease, and this was great help for me, the young one in the club.’

What was Mancini like, seen through the eyes of a young player?

‘He did everything for that jersey, and he gave it all to the team. He never gave up. He wasn’t only a player, he was truly a handyman.’

What do you mean?

‘I mean that he used to take care of everything that would further the image of the team and the club. He even used to check the designs for our official kit. Mancini always paid great attention to detail, something that has also come across during his career as a manager. Every move, every play – coach Roberto always has something to say about it.’

A born leader, then?

‘Yes, absolutely. At the time, Sampdoria had more than one leader: Vierchowod, Mannini, Pari, Vialli. Players with a strong personality, who would drag everyone else along at difficult times. You always knew they were there for you, and that they would lend you a hand. It was enough to glance at them, and you could feel their drive, their motivation to win and do well. Among all of them, though, Roberto was the most attached to the club colours.’

Why was that?

‘I think it was because of his passionate temperament. At first sight, Mancini might come across as shy and reserved, but he always puts his heart and soul in what he believes in. Also, he practically grew up in Sampdoria; president Paolo Mantovani was just like a father to him. He probably got so attached to the team and the club over the years, that he never backed down when something needed doing. He was always like that. Maybe he got it wrong sometimes, but his intentions were always good: to make himself, the team and the whole environment better.’

What did you envy him for?

‘There were many things you could envy Mancini for … he was the sort of player who could make a difference at any time. You could envy him his technical skills, his ability to always spot an unmarked teammate, to come up with stuff that would be impossible for any defender to foresee. You knew that Mancini and Vialli, up front, could create chances for goals even after 90 minutes of play. In other words, I envied his ability to be always in the right place, at the right time.’

You played against him when you were wearing the Roma jersey, from 1993 to 1997. Was he a scary opponent?

‘Well, actually yes … both him and Vialli, who at the time was playing for Juventus, used to give a lot of hassle to defenders. Playing against former Sampdoria teammates always made me feel quite uncomfortable, because I reckon that unforgettable time in our lives joined us together. It still does. During our training, I used to mark Mancini quite often, but in a match – well, he was definitely something else. I knew he was the sort of player who could come up with a masterstroke at any time, when you least expected it, so I marked him tight – which was practically impossible for me, given that at the time, with Carletto Mazzone’s Roma, we played a zonal marking system. So you either brought him down, which was hard for me, or you just had to hope he wasn’t having a particularly good day.’

Were you surprised when he became a manager?

‘I was at the beginning, because Mancio, as a player, never used to compromise. Then I was lucky enough to have him as a coach at Fiorentina, in 2001. I wasn’t officially on their books: I was supposed to sign a contract but the club went bankrupt, so nothing came of that. Still, I was there training with him for three months, and what really surprised me was his calm, his coolness, his ability to explain football. Beyond all tactics, he was good; he’d had Eriksson as a teacher. He would explain all the tricks of the trade, even to the young ones. He taught defenders how to mark, how to anticipate; to strikers how to overcome opponents, how to move. I was quite impressed, because during my career I hardly ever found managers who would have this pedagogical approach. They perfected your technique, but they weren’t teaching you anything. I think Mancini really called himself into question when he started coaching. He was different as a person, too: he wasn’t shouting, screaming and complaining anymore. On the football field, he kept calm and kept a clear head, too, so that he could teach and explain stuff. That’s right: he really impressed me.’