Poor in champions and not up to par, but welcome back championship: in the end we love you

We criticize it because it lends itself to much criticism. And it's not nice to see it like this, patched together, lacking in great champions, certainly not up to the level of its glorious past as the most beautiful (and richest) championship in the world. We pay for the short-sighted (and in some cases—excuse me—downright bungling) vision of the governing bodies that, within clubs and institutions, have always cobbled together the present, perhaps even successfully, without even the slightest bit of planning for the future.

We are the football of long-term projects that last six months and debt to finance debt (and so on, ad infinitum), where successes (even those of the national team) have often served to cover deep holes. We are the ones with beautiful stadiums, just be content to see them in the architects' shiny renderings , where the bricks are expensive (and yet with the commissions from Serie A agents alone over the last five years, €973 million, you could have built at least four new stadiums). We are the ones with players (or duds) bought with promissory notes , signed with ease by managers knowing they will pass them on to those who come after them, in a mad turnover that turns clubs upside down every two or three years (and they call it planning). We are the ones whose media urges wise and prudent budget management , but then tear their clothes if the champions don't arrive. This is what we are now: not a good thing.

And yet today we start again, kick-off at 6:30 PM, Napoli first, then Allegri's AC Milan in the evening, and curiosity is starting to pique. Because, yes, it's no longer the most beautiful championship in the world, but we love it all the same, we even appreciate some of its flaws, as one does when you're truly in love, and we tolerate the others. It's not the best tournament in the world, but it's ours, it speaks to us and to who we are (fortunately or unfortunately, as Gaber said). And we can't help it, because certain rivalries are the axes that unite Italy more than any bridge, because it's a ritual that hasn't yet become obsolete, kept alive by the endless debate and polemics of which we are and always will be the undisputed world champions. And so, despite everything and everyone, this afternoon we'll whisper it, so as not to be heard by everyone: welcome back, championship, my love.