Strange that Italian football is unable to place TV rights

I didn’t need the latest Thought Police craze to confirm the fact that worse than the French are only Guardian columnists and abstainers, but I confess that the arrest of the Paris Saint-Germain manager and his son for “discrimination” Friday morning left the taste of non-alcoholic beer in my mouth. Christophe Galtier and his son John Valovic were taken into custody by the Nice police because in 2021 the then Nice coach allegedly complained to the sporting director about too many black players in the squad, adding that “half of the team is in the mosque on Friday afternoon” as an aggravating circumstance and that “our team does not correspond to what people want, just as it does not correspond to me”. Now it is clear that if Galtier really said these things he is an idiot, since they have nothing to do with the sports performance of the players, but what the fuck is arresting him for? The forced re-education of humanity’s crooked wood with exemplary punishments is proceeding, but evidently not at full speed given that after the daspo for howling at the fans a coach had to be arrested. Congratulations.

And congratulations also to Italian football, which closed two months of passion with a fine performance by Italy Under 21 at the European Championships. No Olympics for the Azzurrini after three matches which in terms of quality and atmosphere recalled those played in the months of Covid and the usual complaints against the referees as an excuse. No wonder, with a senior national team like the one coached by Mancini, a testimonial against drugs whose fans, however, will start smoking pipes thinking about who are the Italian players who can be called up for the next European qualifiers (which England will win ).

Instead, I follow the exciting ones with a discreet intoxication vicissitudes of Italian football TV rights, which De Siervo is unable to place even for free on Rojadirecta, even if everyone was sure that it was enough to keep Juventus in Serie A to get a line of buyers. Between preposterous time changes and free pot batteries, the presidents no longer know what to invent. And the worst thing is the articles that appear repeatedly on sports sites and newspapers in which you explain that the Premier League is more exciting because it sells its brand better and owns its own stadiums. All we need is an investigation into the background of the sale of Gabanelli’s TV rights (which will come) and then the already seen loop is complete.
But let me toast to Marcelo Brozovic, who took the piss out of everyone by fully exploiting the idiocy of the Saudis, ready to cover me with gold too (if I were a teetotaler), and brilliant in communicating on Instagram during the days of the negotiation for his move from Inter to the most hideous league in the world run by funds. Never trust the bottoms: the only ones I believe in are the ones in the glass, because when I see them I know I have to order another beer.