It’s the 4th of November 2019 and between being jammed into, what could be the tightest row of seats in all of Italian football, my socks and shoes are absolutely soaking wet from the torrential rain that’s hit Florence and the Tuscany and Veneto region, and I’m starting to squirm in my seat.
And it’s not even half-time yet.
It’s been a long day.
Arriving in Florence early in the morning, sight-seeing be damned, after a quick train trip from Bologna, where I might add it was cloudy with a few spots of rain, I’ve been welcomed with an absolute monsoon. Prior to leaving Bologna I was made aware of flooding in Venice, that’s right flooding in Venice, and the surrounding areas which were being hit hard with rain but figured I’d be ok.
I was wrong.
Walking from Firenze SMN I made it as far as the piazza right near the Duomo di Firenze before the rain hit. I’m waiting for the rain to pass under the awning of one of the local coffee shops, and after two short blacks, a quick-thinking street vendor approaches selling umbrellas. €5 later and with my new umbrella in tow, after several laps of the city I’m somehow further out of the city than planned and clearly getting lost – it’s part and parcel of my time in Italy without internet, therefore no search engines or maps.
After a short train ride from Firenze SMN to Firenze Campo di Marte, the station closest to the Artemio Franchi, I’ve arrived at the home of ACF Fiorentina. The short walk from the train station, and across the elevated pedestrian overpass brings the sight of the iconic 70-meter Tribuna di Maratona, ‘Tower of Marathon’ for the first time and it’s hard not to bring a smile to your face.
The stadium that’s seen it all.
Fulvio Bernardini, Socrates, Gabriel Batistuta, Roberto Baggio, Giancarlo Antognoni, David Bowie and Bruce Springsteen concerts, the 1934 World Cup and Italia 90’, and for added measure, a reported UFO sighting in 1954.
If only these walls could talk.
As per tradition for each ground I’ve visited it’s time for a visit to the ‘Paninoteca’, which the Artemio has more than enough of. As I finish my lap of the stadium and panino, the heavens open again and by this point my pants are wet, my socks are wet, and my shoes are soaked, and there’s still an hour to kick-off.
It’s going to be a long night.
I collect my ticket from the nearby club ticket office and once inside the stadium make my way to the bar under the main stand to join a few others for a coffee enjoying the Lecce vs Sassuolo match that has kicked off at 3pm. The days earlier results have seen Hellas Verona defeat Brescia and Cagliari upset Atalanta. Lecce hold Sassuolo to an entertaining 2-2 draw, hopefully a sign of things to come for tonight’s proceedings.
Stories and talk abound with the stadium and it’s unique and raucous atmosphere. It’s hard not to quickly fall in love with this stadium. With the skies now clearing both sides enter the field to warm up, and as I’m yet to make my way to my seat I grab a front row seat down near the corner flag to watch Fiorentina warm up.
Fiorentina’s attack was built around an in-form Gaetano Castrovilli, Federico Chiesa and Kevin Prince-Boateng, with Dusan Vlahovic, at that stage of his career, still a regular off the bench. Their opposition, Parma, had a front line featuring Gervinho and Dejan Kulusevski with Matteo Darmian and Giuseppe Pezzella providing thrust up the flanks.
Once at my seat I find myself smack bang in the middle of what I’m certain is the longest row in the stadium and very quickly realise between those already sitting in my row, and the seats in front them, there’s very little space. Barely fitting my backpack between my legs, and with my knees are jammed up against the hard plastic of the seat in front of me.
It’s going to be a long night.
Kick off arrives, and it’s essentially the highlight of the first half, until with a few minutes to go until half-time Parma hit Fiorentina on the counter and before you know it Gervinho is off to the corner flag to celebrate as Parma take a 1-0 lead. The half-time whistle is warmly greeted the pins and needles kicking into every joint in my feet and legs.
Walking down to the lower tier of the main stand where there’s more than a few empty seats therefore more leg room, a trusty steward reminds me that my seat is upstairs so I decide to spend the second half standing against one of the many railings behind the last row of seats. The view is unobstructed, and I can stand, grab a coffee when I like, move from the edge of one curva to another however my steward friend isn’t a fan of my new portable seat.
Approaching the middle of the second half he comes to tell me, with every stereotypical accompanying Italian hand gesture, I need to return to my seat. I try to explain my situation, and he laughs and tells me to stay put and stop walking around, eventually giving up but continues to acknowledge my presence with a simple nod of the head each time he walks past me.
Fiorentina manage to equalise through Gaetano Castrovilli in the second half and look a little livelier with the introduction of Vlahovic at half-time, yet both sides manage to play out a very limp 1-1 draw. I want to scream at the top of my lungs ‘I came from Australia for this?!’ but instead take in my surroundings, enjoy where I am and how fortunate I am to be in Italy for the umpteenth time.
As a few jeers and whistles accompany the final whistle I make the short walk back to the station surrounded by local vendors selling shirts and scarves from every era, and as tempting as it is to stop and get a Baggio or Batigol shirt, I need to make my train. Once back at Firenze SMN I find that my return train back to Bologna has been delayed and with most shops in and around the station closing or already closed I have nothing to do but wait.
As I look back on the day, I can’t help but laugh at what else could go wrong.
And at that moment two police officers’ approach.
I’m not quite sure which one of Italy’s multiple enforcement agencies they represent but they want to see my passport and identification. By this stage I’m exhausted, soaking wet and with a shrug of the shoulders I present all the relevant paperwork and documentation much to their dismissive nature and I once again remind myself, it’s been a long day in Florence.