Massimo Cellino, a name synonymous with controversy, passion, and a dash of the dramatic in Italian football, has once again emerged from the shadows to deliver a characteristically outspoken interview. The former owner of Cagliari and Brescia, never one to mince words, offers a perplexing blend of self-reflection, spiritual conviction, and pointed critiques on the state of the game, managers, and even the supernatural forces he believes shaped his destiny.
The Brescia Lament: A Pact with the Divine, a Dance with the Devil
Cellino’s recent interview, published in L`Unione Sarda, reads less like a typical post-mortem and more like a confessional. His tenure at Brescia ended in relegation to Serie C, marred by penalties stemming from alleged misuse of tax credits—a situation Cellino vehemently denies, claiming he was defrauded. Yet, beyond the fiscal and regulatory woes, he attributes Brescia`s woes to something far more ancient: the “evil one.”
“The evil one became enraged in a city where blasphemy is widespread: I never tolerated it. My misfortune was the devil`s tail,” Cellino declared, weaving a narrative where divine retribution and malevolent forces played a significant role.
He recounts building a chapel at Brescia`s training ground, a vow to the Immaculate Conception for promotion to Serie A. This act of piety, he believes, only fueled the “evil one`s” wrath. “They explained to me that the evil one attacks those who do something important for the Church.” He even pointed to the club`s founding date, July 17, as inherently unlucky, something he regrets not knowing before his acquisition. One might wonder if the club`s financial statements carried less weight than its astrological chart during his due diligence.
This perspective, while perhaps charmingly anachronistic, offers a unique lens into the mind of a football owner. In an era dominated by data analytics and corporate governance, Cellino`s reliance on celestial and infernal influences stands out, inviting both intrigue and a healthy dose of skepticism.
Cagliari: A Lost Love and a System in Disarray
Turning to his two-decade reign at Cagliari, Cellino`s tone shifts to one of wistful nostalgia. He describes his time on the Sardinian island as the “best and hardest years” of his life, a period he clearly misses. Yet, even this sentiment quickly pivots to a broader, scathing indictment of modern Italian football.
“I miss Cagliari because it represented my youth, the best and hardest years of my life, only good memories. Now the football we knew, for which we went to see our teams in the stadiums, no longer exists. The system has exploded, and those who manage the Federation have devastated football.”
His frustration with the Italian Football Federation (FIGC) is palpable, hinting at a system rigged against those who play by the rules. “I like to play at tables where no one cheats,” he asserted, implying he often found himself in the company of card sharks. This sentiment resonates with many football purists who decry the increasing commercialization and perceived lack of integrity within the sport`s governing bodies.
The Allegri Enigma: Brilliance, Provincialism, and Untaken Paths
Perhaps one of the most intriguing insights came with Cellino`s assessment of Massimiliano Allegri, the celebrated manager he helped launch at Cagliari. Allegri, known for his tactical prowess and serial winning, receives a commendation mixed with a critical observation.
“He is still one of the best in the world, but his limit is that he is very provincial and never wanted to learn English and never wanted to confront himself: he has an extra gear, but he always chose the easiest path.”
This isn`t merely a jab at Allegri`s linguistic skills but a deeper critique of a potential professional insularity. In an increasingly globalized football world, the refusal to embrace new languages and cultures can limit opportunities and stifle growth. Cellino, having owned Leeds United in England, perhaps speaks from experience on the value of international exposure. It’s a fascinating, if somewhat audacious, take on a manager universally respected for his achievements, suggesting even the best can be held back by self-imposed boundaries.
Echoes of a Troubled Past: A Near Kidnapping
Adding another layer to his complex persona, Cellino also recounted a harrowing incident from his youth: an attempted kidnapping at the age of 22 in 1978. Forced to move to Australia with his family, the event painted a picture of a man who has faced significant personal peril long before the pressures of football ownership.
This glimpse into his past underscores that Cellino`s often dramatic pronouncements are not merely for show. They emerge from a life marked by real challenges, giving his seemingly outlandish statements a grounding, however tenuous, in personal experience.
Massimo Cellino remains a unique figure in Italian football – a blend of the shrewd businessman, the passionate club owner, and the deeply superstitious individual. His latest reflections offer a captivating, if at times bewildering, journey through the triumphs and tribulations of a man who sees the game through a lens entirely his own, where financial ledgers mingle with ancient curses and managerial brilliance is weighed against linguistic ambition. Whether one agrees with his cosmic explanations or sharp critiques, Cellino`s voice is undeniably distinct and endlessly compelling in the intricate tapestry of European football.
Gilbert Pendleton