Phenomenal! No, useless! Or rather, champions! The media’s schizophrenic coverage of the Azzurri

More predictable than a rant in La Gazzetta against VAR when they fail to award Torino a penalty, Italy’s victory over the only team in a worse state than the Azzurri – Turkey – has sent the Italian media and fans (but especially the media) back to the usual sporting sugar rush that follows and precedes the depressing post-defeat crash. I cannot stand Roberto Mancini for many reasons, and I know that the football fan – worse still if they are also a journalist – is more fickle than a blonde in love, but I do not envy the Italy manager, who must deal daily with the schizophrenia of people who have not yet accepted that Italy will have to cross many deserts before returning as a national team capable of contending for a title—even if it is only the Nations League. Before the predictable defeat against Belgium a few days ago, the sports papers were dripping with praise for the young players called up by the prodigal manager who had fled to Saudi Arabia and returned with rookies and petrodollars in his pocket: courageous, visionary, naturally multi-ethnic, Mancini’s quiff stood out in all its ‘morning glory’ splendour on the front pages of the newspapers.

But then the match went ahead, and a lacklustre side like Belgium made a complete mess of the Azzurri at Rome’s Stadio Olimpico. Suddenly, Romano – who until the day before had been hailed as ‘the Italian Rodri’ – was being described as a third-rate player; the quality of the squad was deemed too low; the substitutions were wrong; the national team’s future looked bleak; Mancini was called an idiot; and Malagò was labelled a usurper. Three days of insults, of “I told you so”, of editorials that would not even be heard in a sports bar after the third grappa, of “Mancini’s project has already failed”, of “we’ll be relegated to Serie B to play against Israel”, of “multi-ethnic youngsters are all well and good, but let’s not go overboard”, ‘the problem is that we used to play in the streets; today, even some random Swiss player in the Cagliari first team thinks he’s the new Rodri’.

Then Italy travelled to the aubergine-coloured pitch in Bursa, won 4–1, and judging by certain comments, Bastoni and his teammates were the reincarnation of the 1970 Brazilian team, Mancini a genius of spectacle football, Kayode the new Hakimi, the Esposito brothers an early version of the Derrik twins, Calafiori a modern Jesus healing Turkish children by letting them touch the hem of his shirt. “Perfect Italy”, the quiff stands on end. That euphoria is likely to last only until Friday, when France is expected to defeat the Azzurri, prompting a return to familiar critiques of the system, the early teaching of tactics to young players, a perceived lack of creativity, and fresh lamentations over the departures of Conte and Gattuso. A more measured perspective is advisable, as unchecked enthusiasm can give way to disillusionment as quickly as a post-whisky hangover.