Moving the tea cabinet another five inches closer to Berlin.

January 14th, 2012 | by: gadsby | Comments Off

Every boy's dream.

It was on the 10th of January, 2012, a day that will forever linger in the national memory of this proud, peninsular Mediterranean nation, the Italian under-17 national team won the famed and highly sought after Valentin Granatkin memorial trophy, trouncing the previous champions Finland with a definitive 4-0 that has proved to the world the true might of our oft-ridiculed boys in blue.

Credit for this astounding victory must go first and foremost to coach Alberigo Evani, a former Milan and Sampdoria midfielder, who avoided falling into the trap that caught Marcello Lippi in 2010 by selecting a young, mostly inexperienced team, casting aside previous Italy U-17 stars in a step that many commentators suggested was taken because Evani “could not control” his players. This strategy of rejecting established talent was incredibly controversial, with the absence  of Juventus’s Vincenzo Iaquinta in particular becoming a major rallying point for journalists and critics of Evani alike. The coach would be quick to silence the masses outside the window calling for his head with a definitive 5-0 win against Ukraine.

“Italy deservedly won, but…”

The feeling of the nation towards Evani’s controversial selection policy in the wake of this Shermanesque total victory for our boys in blue was summed up by the Ukrainian coach Yury Moroz, who weighed in with with these profound expectorations after the match. It was a phrase that captivated a generation, a ’10s version of the opening of Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl”. ‘Twas a shame that almost no one heard it. A little bit like the playing career of Francesco Benussi in that regard. Heh.

Italy would next play Greece, who, in typical Greek fashion, ground out a 0-0 draw. If it was not for Italy’s passage from the group and for their tragic, Godotian nonexistence*, Alberigo Evani’s critics would be calling for his head. When asked about the match, the Great Man remarked: “I think this is a great team with an excellent set of fine players.”. You can’t really say much more than that.

Advancing from the group stage, La Nazionale would be pitied (I can’t even be bothered to rectify that typographical error) against Turkey (insert unprintable and bigoted joke about Janissaries here), which resulted in yet another 0-0 draw from the catenaccio playing, dull, defensive Italians, though the Azzurrini would progress through a win on penalties. Coach Evani, in his customary post game interview, said: “I am a sportsman and prefer to win in a football game rather than a lottery.”, in clear defiance to the rules of the game, set down by a governing body presided over by Sepp Blatter, making this a bold protest against a tyrannical… Oh.

The final would dawn in two days time, on the 10th. An entire nation held its breath as the Azzurrini walked down the tunnel (or whatever it was they walked down) to commence play against the previous Granatkin champions, the mighty Finland. The result, a mighty 4-0 victory, will live forever in history. The goals were scored by player of the tournament Stefano Padovan (Juventus), Luca Garritano (Inter), Emanuelle Gatto (Torino), and Simone Pasa (Inter). The Granatkin trophy, a chalice with a remarkable resemblance to Svenja Huth, was presented to the team by a scantily clad young woman, as is customary. All in all, yet another a small but significant victory for our side.

*Your blogger was in the film version of Waiting for Godot, as a matter of interest. I played the role of Godot, to great acclaim, I might add.

You can follow Gadsby on twitter @FJGadsby. Not that you’d want to.