Signed by Fabio Paratici

If football were left in the hands of ordinary people, it would be torn to pieces, crumbled to dust, and lost in the void. It would turn to air and quickly dissipate. Football gets people talking – and that is what we must acknowledge – it sparks debate, and that is what we must marvel at. But building a powerful team is like a complex project, one to be entrusted to architects, engineers and skilled craftsmen who are experts in such endeavours. Football cannot be run by agents – those who were once called ‘representatives’ – because agents think only of themselves; they do business and fill their own bank accounts with money. I do not criticise them, because perhaps, were I in their shoes, I would do the same; I simply observe.

What is happening in certain clubs is unacceptable; it does not align with the spirit of football or the passion of the fans. It is not the fault of the agents, who are simply doing their job as market profiteers; the fault lies with the owners (club chairmen are almost a thing of the past) who rely on weak and disorganised executives who, in turn, do business with the agents, because it is easier that way. Fortunately, however, things are starting to move in the opposite direction. It has become clear that whilst following the agents’ path may mean less work, it also means spending more and even risks relegation. Just as happened to Fiorentina last year – a tribe of clueless amateurs, guided by logic that was hardly entrepreneurial (90 million wasted on the transfer market) and even less technical.

And it is precisely at Fiorentina, in its centenary year, that a director, Fabio Paratici, has arrived who has gone back to conducting the transfer market as it used to be done, without getting involved with agents (he certainly speaks to them and throws them a bone), but with the original idea in mind (as should be the norm) of winning something.

He is spending heavily, with the backing of Commisso Junior, buying top-class players such as Atta and Oulai, and sparking a frenzy of excitement with one idea: Franco Mastantuono, the next Messi. He brought him to Florence for next to nothing, and the Florentines will enjoy him for at least a year; after that, we’ll see. Paratici has restored the role of sporting director to centre stage, pushing agents to the fringes of the footballing world. He is working according to his own convictions, in agreement with the manager, drawing on personal relationships cultivated over time and information gathered on players, both in Italy and abroad.

Paratici acts as a manager by looking beyond the confines of his four acquaintances, listening only to the voice of his footballing conscience. He remains deaf to the siren songs that pop up here and there in the sea of the transfer market. The return of the sporting director role bears his distinct hallmark, pending any proof to the contrary.