It’s not just the national team. Rugby: a game of salamelle and somersaults

They used to be known as test matches; now they are the Northern Hemisphere Series of the Nations Championship: rugby’s November international ‘window’ dedicated to matches against teams from the other side of the world. Today, Saturday 7th at 12.40 pm against South Africa in Turin; Saturday 14th at 12.40 pm against Argentina in Genoa; Saturday 21st at 5.40 pm against Fiji in Udine; Finally, the finals from 27 to 29 November at Twickenham, London (live on Sky Sport). Professional rugby – as a spectacle, but also as a business; as a sublime art form, but also as a human video game; as the arithmetic chivalry of the nineteenth century, but also as the algorithmic artillery of the Third Millennium.

The Italian rugby showcased by the skill of prop Simone Ferrari, the tenacity of flanker Manuel Zuliani, the vision of fly-half Paolo Garbisi, and the unpredictability of full-back Ange Capuozzo is not the same as the grassroots rugby—belonging to everyone and for everyone, encompassing youth teams and mini-rugby—which is in crisis. This has been the case for some time, and since the onset of Covid the sport has still not managed to get back on its feet. November’s glittering showcase cannot hide the problem, nor can it solve it.

Settimo Milanese, for example. On the outskirts of Milan, which a century ago led the rugby movement. “We’re bending over backwards,” says Andrea Belligi, president of Lyons Settimo Milanese (that ‘y’ remains a mystery; it’s probably a translation error). Founded in 2009, with 140 registered members, the club runs its own Under-6, Under-8, Under-10 and Under-12 teams, as well as Under-14 and Under-16 teams in partnership with Abbiategrasso and Falchi della Lomellina from Vigevano, an Under-18 team with Parabiago, plus men’s and women’s veterans’ teams. “Our ground is the Sette Aceri in Castelletto: the local council has promised to convert the pitch to artificial turf and share it 50-50 between football and rugby. The gym will also be expanded. We receive 1,800 euros a year from the Federation, which covers two months’ lighting costs. We break even – we only pay bills and coaches’ wages – thanks to membership fees, income from the clubhouse and events, homemade cakes and sausages cooked outdoors, relying on volunteers and small local sponsors. We ask members for annual fees ranging from 130 to 300 euros, but those who cannot pay do not have to. And, let’s be clear, the committee members receive no expenses or allowances. As for promotion and recruitment, we visit schools and focus on summer camps, which we see not merely as childcare facilities, but as small sporting, educational, social and even missionary oases, in the hope that some will stay with us.” Among the staff of the Settimo Milanese Lyons, Franco Carnovali stands out: a former player and coach in Serie A and B, who was once part of the national team set-up (under his leadership, Italy won the prestigious Fira in 1984 – a sort of European Under-19 Championship – Italy’s only victory in the competition’s history). In Settimo, almost in obscurity, Carnovali coaches the Under-16s.

Take the Briganti e Brigantesse of Librino, for example. Originally established as a satellite town and now a district of Catania, rugby here has always played a social role and served a social purpose before being a sporting activity. “We go the extra mile,” explains Piero Mancuso, one of the team’s founders and managers. Founded in 2006, the club has between 250 and 300 registered members, ranging from the start of the year to the end of the year. It has mixed Under-8, Under-10 and Under-12 teams (up to that age, boys and girls play together), separate Under-14, Under-16 and Under-18 teams, and then the first teams: the men’s team in Serie C and the women’s team in Serie A. “It’s a question of costs. Last year, running the whole operation cost 35–40,000 euros; now it’s 55–60,000. The boys and girls have decided to levy a contribution on themselves. We’ve always managed to get by. We’ve opened our hall to other activities, from climbing to yoga and judo; we organise parties and shows; we rely on our canteen and bar, on some funding from the Federation and the Region, and also on small sponsors. The truth is that the foundations of rugby in Italy are fragile. The narrative is important, but often fanciful. Yet the values endure. Our strength lies in the nature of the game: support, which on the pitch means relying on the help of teammates. This spirit of support carries over into everyday life, off the pitch.” Mancuso has a dream: “A rugby team in every neighbourhood of the city would help tackle the problems of deviance, delinquency and apathy.”