Macchi isn’t satisfied with silver at the World Championships

Is reaching the pinnacle really synonymous with happiness? Filippo Macchi pauses for a moment before saying: “Perhaps. I was talking to my tutor about it; I was explaining that after the holidays I’ll have to get back to studying for the September exam session, and he said to me: ‘Remember that people like you always strive for excellence, and when you achieve one thing, you immediately want another.’ It’s true. I’m never satisfied; I’m always thinking about the next step – I’ll probably never be happy. Perhaps my happiness lies in the little things: family, my girlfriend, friends – but in my working and academic life, I always demand more.” The Italian foil fencer returns from the World Championships in Hong Kong with an individual silver – the only medal he was missing – and a team gold. “First and foremost, I’d put the European title, which came when I wasn’t expecting it. Then the Olympic silver, which changed my life, but it’s not gold… I think about what might have been. Finally, the World Championship silver: I had a sensational tournament right up to the final. I wasn’t quite ready for it; I can’t explain why. During the bout, I started to doubt myself; I was thinking about how I was letting myself down as an athlete. I didn’t prepare properly; I was a bit overconfident, but it’ll be a lesson learned.”

Compared to Paris 2024, where they were two points ahead and there was plenty of controversy, here the bitterness lingers to the point where one wonders whether it’s easy to enjoy the results. “It isn’t. In fencing, if you don’t win, you lose; you’re not competing against the clock or a set score – it’s a straight-up bout, and it’s not necessarily the strongest who wins.” And yet, it seems the Italian foil fencers are top of the range: “We’re a close-knit group but we don’t socialise much outside of fencing. I learn from those with more experience. Velasco said we don’t need to be friends. We get on well if we win. After the individual bouts, we have to switch gears – we’re good at that – everyone knows what the other wants to hear. We know our worth and we’re aiming to win; otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair to the nation, the Federation or ourselves.” Macchi has never doubted his path, following in the footsteps of his coach Simone Vanni (current foil head coach) and former Italian international Daniele Garozzo, now vice-president of the FIS: “I had doubts about whether I could reach his level; it was a limit I’d set for myself. Garozzo is one of the best in terms of mental strength and dedication. Simone has watched me grow. He’s the head coach, but I think he was there at my debut… having champions like that by my side led me to demand a lot from myself, even at university.” His grandfather Carlo also played a decisive role; he had been hoping for his victory at the Italian Championships, which he achieved this very year. The founder of the Navacchio Fencing Club (Pisa) had kept a bottle to pop: “I’d forgotten all about it: years ago we’d had a litter of 12 Great Danes and it all went wrong. I’d never achieved a decent result and when I won, my cousin texted me: ‘You can pop that bottle.’ I broke down. He saw the reckless side of me, the one who didn’t study and didn’t behave at his best; by the time I turned my life around, he was already gone. I wonder every day what he’d say, how happy he’d be.” Now, Macchi will enjoy a few weeks’ relaxation in Malaysia before getting back to his studies. He’ll be joined by Giulia Amore, a fencer and daughter of Diana Bianchedi, with whom he has started living: “She’s won a scholarship to Paris, so we’ll be apart again. We’re getting on really well, but on our first evening living together she made pasta that was far too salty and overcooked (laughs, ed.). The work I’m doing with my psychologist is also aimed at helping me grow as a person: sport is a metaphor for life, and the fencing piste reflects who you are.”