Sabatini is still in the running

A personal confession: when I found out I’d be hosting "Dribbling", the first person I rang was Walter Sabatini. The sporting director par excellence, the scout with a nose for beauty and talent, the man incapable of cutting corners (even with himself). He agreed to participate, bringing to the programme a perspective on football that remains unique even in these years of enforced remote working. We joke about it; everything flows through the deep green of his eyes: Walter dispenses kind words, harsh criticism and memories. His recovery, which lasted two years following a respiratory crisis and a month in a coma, is now over. His physique has been worn down by the toll taken by decades of apparent invincibility: endless journeys and hotel rooms, nerve-wracking negotiations, football promises made and lost along the way, Lazio and Palermo, the magnificent Roma of the mid-2010s, the regret of Inter, and a path paved with miracles such as the survival at Salernitana. In one hand, the e-cigarette that has replaced the real ones – thousands of them – the trademark of his former life. In the other, the mobile phone that rings less often but sounds better: the call offering him a role as a consultant for Pro Patria, in Serie D – the last team he’d played for (Sabatini was a playmaker as talented as he was lackadaisical) – has rekindled a sacred fire that knows no league divisions. He’s just returned to Rome from Busto Arsizio; he hadn’t watched a training session in person since May 2024.

“The noise of training, the lads arguing, hugging, expressing themselves freely. Some are struggling, some are lying, some are driving the group on, some are getting carried away. A diverse spectacle that you simply cannot capture on a screen.”

“Spiritual cohesion is a key factor. Roma embody this collective spirit: Gasperini preaches the orthodoxy of victory; he is a manager who helps you make giant strides. The 3–3 draw with Napoli is a breath of fresh air for Italian football. Both sides played superbly, producing a contest that does justice to the game: when we’re at this level, everyone has to be chasing the Serie A title.”

“No, the manager can only inspire them. After that, it’s down to the players. A single word, a joke, a dinner can set off a positive chain reaction that you see on the pitch: they pull themselves out of a tight spot together, they’re all fired up as a unit of eleven, they win and then celebrate as a team. This unity is what sets a good team apart from a mediocre one: do you think Inter turn matches around by chance? They experience both euphoria and despair, all united by the same ideal. I like to call it ‘solidarity football’.”

“Matteo Politano. He combines technical ability, hard work and loyalty to the team. He seems to have stepped straight out of a De Gregori song: selflessness and imagination”.

“A stroke of genius. Take Thuram’s goal against Fiorentina. A delicate left-footed flick into the only possible gap, right into the corner: a display of self-control when the pressure is on and you know you can’t afford to make a mistake. I’m moved by how the script changes under pressure: I love the off-beat, the unexpected moves.”

“Football is art. Some scrambles bring to mind Guernica, others the shadowy movements of Caravaggio’s scenes. A fine piece of play evokes the same emotion as a painting. ‘I’ve got Stendhal syndrome’ is the best compliment I can pay my players. Nothing is more rewarding.”

“Rino is doing an incredible job. He’s become a surgeon. Lazio have perfect systems in place, an extraordinary sense of camaraderie, and players who have improved as individuals. They win by playing well and finish on a high. Isaksen is his masterpiece: he was already a strong player, but was always held back by shyness. Gattuso has built him a shield of self-confidence. The pitch no longer overwhelms him.”

“Let me correct you: she’s a star architect. She brings together different cultures, academic study and experiences. She has the courage to take risks. She defends by attacking, and vice versa.”

“It’s always worth the price of admission, even if we’re doing a disservice to the other ten players, who were brilliant. Como haven’t lost their sense of fun, that childlike spirit of the game, in its purest form.”

“That shirt is the number 10 of history. Messi, Maradona, Kempes: we tend to forget him, but the 1978 World Cup was all down to him. In any case, there’s no doubt about it: Paz is at the centre of the drama to come.”

“It remains the highlight of my career. Unparalleled.”

“Taking it down would be like getting rid of the Madonnina: it’s the symbol of a unique derby. An interesting match tonight. Chivu is a well-rounded manager. He’s both mentally and physically committed, fully immersed in the team. He suffers and rejoices, spends the match on his knees and celebrates at the end: it’s no surprise, as he’d already achieved great things at Parma. Amorim is excellent too, but still has some way to go. There are signs of a revival; Milan are starting to look like Milan again; the climb, however, isn’t over yet. Acts of courage can turn into mistakes: Moreira, for example, will never be Leão.”

“Without a doubt. They’re starting from a tough position. As the season progresses, Spalletti is turning things round in terms of both the league table and the team’s form. Allegri will do the same. Anguissa isn’t just any player; getting him back is like sorting out an entire department. Muscle injuries could decide the Serie A title. There are too many matches; managers should allow more rest: it’s unpopular, but it would be necessary.”

“Yes, a ray of hope: let’s look beyond the narrow horizon we’ve set for ourselves. Take Alvini’s Frosinone side. It has several players who could make the national team. Raimondo, for example: a great discovery by my friend Sinisa Mihajlovic, who knew how to nurture talent and motivate it. Because footballers must always feel ‘pushed to their limits’.”

“Without a doubt: it is a plea for love, the flash of lightning that illuminates, for a thousandth of a second, everything the eye can take in. Only a neurotic coach would downplay it: a single dribble replaces the synchronised movement of three players. To me, dribbling is sacred.”

“Simple: it’s my Ithaca”.

Anyone who is surprised by this grandiose comparison has understood little about Sabatini. And perhaps about life, too.