because his legend will always resist – Corriere.it

mito an overused word. Few have endured as much tampering, quoting, rhetorical straining full of good intentions. But watching Marassi greet Luca Vialli and Sinisa Mihajlovic, one realizes that the term can be used, in some cases. What is, if not a myth, a footballer capable of bringing back to the city the smell of youth, family stories, bonds of friendship, pride?

Luca Vialli was, for Sampdoria and for Genoa, a legend. A summoner, not just a footballer. An evocator, together with Roberto Mancini, of great joys – the Scudetto, the cups – and of stainless memories, time has not affected them. It doesn’t matter if the 1990/91 championship remained isolated: a spark is enough for enthusiasm, passion thinks of fire.

Anyone who always needs to win, to love a team, doesn’t understand anything about football. Incredible evening. The darkness of January, the sea nearby, the Sampdoria flags, the lights of the telephones.
Sampdoria warming up with all the same shirts, 9 Vialli on the shoulders. Bomber, Champion, Legend read one banner. Marassi is the most English stadium in Italy, the one where you can breathe grass and history. Even Genoa is a little British: cautious in its enthusiasm, formidable in its irony, thrifty and stoic. I believe that Vialli from Cremona – a boy from the plains, in his eyes stables and poplars, not ships and sails – began his British education at Sampdoria, which he then cultivated throughout his life.

We talked about it once. Many emotions burn quickly – Italy is a powerful incinerator – but the impression that the memory of Vialli in Genoa will last a long time: like that of Meroni in Turin, of Maradona in Naples, of Facchetti in Milan, of Astori in Florence. Yesterday’s match counts for little. But when Politano’s penalty ball, deflected by Audero, ended up on the post, many thought that Luca had blown it from above. Not true, of course. But myths are capable of strange things, and it’s nice to imagine them