DAVID-TREZEGUET-JUVENTUS-STADIUM“Daddy, but who was Trezeguet?”

And I told him this.

“Gabri, Trezeguet was the one that you would like to become. What I wanted to become. What any child in love with football would like to become. Trezeguet was a goalscorer. What a great job, huh Gabri? Sounds too good. What do you do? I score goals.

David was a specialist: he was scoring goals. Many, many. In all modes: left, right, top, on the fly, from opportunist, in advance, at the far post. Away from the goal he  wasn’t impressive: as if he was not at ease, as the lion tamer on the trapeze or the trapeze artist to make the clown. But when he went inside the penalty area, well, he was transformed: becoming an absolute champion able to perform acts of great technical difficulty and beauty. David knew before where the ball was going and sometimes was the ball the one that understood where David was going. To not understand anything they were usually the defenders: displaced, cheated, anticipated, avoided, skipped. Beaten.

Sure, Trezeguet played in a big Juve. He had colleagues who could serve and exalt him. But sometimes the cross was not a cross: it was a prayer. It was a ball that was thrown there in the middle to David in the hope that somehow he would transform into goals. And often Trezeguet would hear that prayer.

Then the football has changed and the classic striker became out of fashion. Ahead with the false nine, the striker of movement, the striker who participates in the movement and encourages the midfielders. Beautiful, for heaven’s sake. Ultramodern, God forbid. But to me, Gabri, continues to please the football of once at least in certain basic things: the goalkeeper who saves the day,  the striker who scores. Things which reassure you, returning to certainties. I like the Nine, although wearing the 17, especially if he always scores, with or without the assistance of his companions. Trezeguet struck from one meter as the best opportunist, or he just invented by winning a stunt realizing first what would happen, or even pull out the goal from the trash turning the game into a war of nerves between himself and the opposing defense.

Gabri, it was as if Trezeguet’s team started always from 1-0. A rare thing, which applies to very few players in the world. That’s why they called him TrezeGol. “

adapted in english an article of G.B Olivero