14/12/2012

Dear Old Devil, it’s almost 113 years passed from the fantastic starry night in which Mr. Kilpin gave the birth to you. Nothing would be as before, especially in my life. A life of emotions, especially joy, but also sadness, deep disappointment and anger.
Our first time was at the San Siro Stadium with Gianni Rivera who "sang" to the microphone ... "If you do not move from the second ring...". It was May 6, 1979. He had already done it all, inspired, amazed, witnessed, scored, dribbled and enchanted ... The only thing missing was singing with his “R dull”, but sweet at the same time as his right foot. It means championship, the star.
Then came the engagement, in August 1987, the first year of my subscription, it was the "Righetto’s AC Milan, that tore the applause at the San Paolo Stadium (Naples), and that was to mark an epoch in the history of football. The team becane a legend. I understood everything on April 19 1989: heavy rain, the cry of the people next to me the goal of Carlo Ancelotti. Was unique. We defeated the usual myth, the great Real Madrid. I was 16, I was so proud that I realized that day that we would never have left, and that one place at that stadium I'd ever had.
It came the end of Champions Cup, the real ones. A cup that you could participate only if you won the championship. Even there, the humble but exuberant in the field, defeated the whole world. Before Arrigo then Don Fabio with his invincible team and his record still unbeaten. Between family arguments, studies of stuttering and escapades Thursday evening meetings, you were always my first thought.
Then came the incredible 2003. I can’t believe it still now. It was the year that all our historical opponents dream for a lifetime. Just after the May 5, 2002, we ventured in the Champions League starting from the preliminaries. And the quarter-finals became the nightmare for everyone; not because we were stronger, but because there was something unique in the relationship team-fans. There was magic in the air and San Siro was watching over us every minute of the match. Pippo Inzaghi scored with Ajax... Pippo and I'm happy, Pippo with Sheva... it was born the Pippomania.
It was a week of stress, one of the two derbies. I thought that if it happened, I continued to walk by your side, but the world would not be the same. The magic might have faded a little and the pride destroyed by those damn cousins living on the other side of the town. It didn’t happened; "Crumb" turned off the nightmare on Kallon’s shot... A lucky calf took us to Manchester, and there, at Sheva’s goal, I fell into the arms of Pierino Prati, a row below me. What better sporting event than this. One more time. One more time for us.
The real crisis of rejection really happened as in all relationships. It was the “Damn Istanbul”. The most beautiful Champions Cup final of all time (yes, but for the others). I cried like a child, I went back on the bus that would take us back to the hotel from the stadium, convinced that I would have given up, it was time to move... 19 years of uncontrolled passion were still many, if lived well. I didn’t want to suffer no more, to go crazy for a ball going by the edge of the pole. That was the perfect day to say goodbye and hang the scarf to the nail. And then I decided to get married, just two months later.
You would have had difficulties to understand it, but now we were 3 and the time for yourself would be inevitably decreased.
But then arrived “Calciopoli”. I would do anything to defend my team from injustice, the shame of judgments still unfair and accommodated. There was a magical evening at the San Siro against Red Star (Cvrena Sveszda), and there was the choir that accompanies undaunted in every moment of our races, "Come fight, you’ll win, we will never let you." I came back even more charged than before... Pippo, Kaka, Clarence, the trio of the Cup. Unique and inimitable professionals. Athens and a 34 year old boy who rinning around the field with a huge flag. Hell!, this was the Devil who wanted Mr. Kilpin, this was the "Noster Milan."
And then it was Ibra, a loto of Sundays to "zlatanare" (zlataning, we was saying) the return of a warrior spirit that roars in there, as someone said; Rino Gattuso our man haranguing the crowd; and Inzaghi, who score it, as always. Sunday, May 13, 2012, the first time of my 5 years old daughter to the stadium. An uncontrollable emotion, for me, for she, that could not have known the Milan without the heroes of Manchester. We went away in tears, both of them, but I realized that, unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, she had the Devil in her hearth.
And the proof came on vacation, a few months later in Formentera. She noticed Pippo playing beachvolley ball. She called to him and asked for a photo in his arms... As soon as they approached, she said: "Pippo, do you know that against Novara I've cried over you?" Inzaghi looked at her excited and with all the simplicity of the world gave her a kiss on the cheek.
Till death do us apart!




Filippo Pupo Monaco

14/12/2012