Naples and the Scudetto. It was the hand of Aurelio De Laurentiis

Life, victories and miracles of the president of the Azzurri champions of Italy who, waiting to enjoy the well-deserved trophy, made the oldest of his convictions shine: always being right. They say that Aurelio sleeps a couple of hours a night and that in the rest of the night he has daydreams. They say Aurelio is unknowingly a Marxist because he believes that without conflict there is no progress. They say that Aurelio knows Curzio Malaparte’s lesson “You will never understand Naples” and he has learned that sometimes intuition is better than knowing. They say that Aurelio knows how to change his mind even in the space of the same sentence. Twelve years ago he gave kind thoughts to the other presidents on the sidelines of the draw for the Serie A calendar: “You’re dickheads” and threatened to say goodbye: “I want to go back to cinema”. Today he thinks exactly the same of his counterparts, but in football he remained, he triumphed and while waiting to polish the trophies he made his oldest conviction shine: always being right. The others spent and got into debt and toyed with accounting illusions. He planned, earned and presented budgets in order. The boy with the Lambretta who used to beach himself in Anzio as a late teenager, ran wildly between the Flaminio and Piazza Euclide, was famous for his jokes and at school did not shine for good behavior got off the saddle, found another sea two hundred kilometers from home and graduated with honors. Luigi, Aurelio’s father, a witty and elegant Neapolitan, ideal prophet in the homeland of this Scudetto son of twenty years who started from the fields of Chieti and Martina Franca, as a great casino player he could have been proud of the heir. He bet. She won.