Your Bianconere Voices – Marcello

As you know, for us at the Fondazione Jdentità Bianconera, the most important voice is always that of the fans.
Being Juventus fans is something so special, so deep and personal that there are as many emotions and nuances as there are Juventus fans in the world!
We asked Marcello, one of the very first participants in our Foundation, ‘What does it mean to you to be a Juventus fan? What is ‘JDENTITÀ’ for you?’
What follows is his response: pure emotion.

Being a Juventus fan means being in love with the most beautiful woman in the world, the most sensual, the most intelligent.
Dear Juventus, I remember seeing you for the first time through a book; the cover was in black and white stripes with a red inscription that read ‘Juventus 70.’ There were black and white photos of men playing in ties – how strange they were! My father used to say that the shirts were pink and the ties were black, but you couldn’t tell from the photos. He told me that he started loving you to spite the people from Florence who would say, ‘You come from the lower regions to take our jobs away.’

He told me that once John Charles scored a header that made the stands at the Franchi tremble… And then there was Sivori, so many stories: I was already infatuated!
To be honest, he introduced you to me before my brother; he told him to love you unconditionally and not to be jealous because you belonged to everyone, and everyone could love you. So, I stepped forward too and told you, ‘Until death do us part!’

I was shy, and my heart would beat faster every time I saw you. I remember one evening you were having dinner with an Englishman, they called him Aston Villa, what a night… It still gives me chills. The confidence, the strength, the elegance, everything was there that night, you were beautiful, the whole world fell in love with you, but you were mine! You were ours! That perfection was almost intimidating; I’d call it a platonic love until I saw your vulnerabilities, your weaknesses in Athens; I realized that you were human too, and then I began to see you with different eyes. I was on your level; I had to defend you; you needed me. Years of defeats and depressions followed, years when you would buy wonderful jewels that didn’t go well with the dress you were wearing, but it didn’t matter.

I came to the Comunale for your last match against Fiorentina, at fifteen, with my older brother, seeing you live for the first time! The colors were different, almost unreal; the black and white stripes had a clear, clean boundary between them, like the lines of Mondrian. That night you returned radiant, and we enjoyed it together, it was a brief respite from the nine long years of melancholy we had lived together.

Then came ‘Marcello.’ Yes, your new man was named like me, and I swear I wasn’t jealous.

He changed you profoundly; you became less elegant but much more confident, and melancholy gave way to pride: that pride and confidence lost over the years came back to shine on your face! Unforgettable moments, beautiful years, irreplaceable. But sometimes life can hit really hard: your father left you in 2003; I could write rivers of words about the admiration we all felt for him, but you already know that. You didn’t know that right after that, your uncle would also pass away, and the vultures would come after you.

Forgive me! I couldn’t defend you; I was too weak and too alone to do it. None of us who claim to love you had the courage to do it firmly and strongly, but it’s too late now. You, as always, have forgiven us; you looked inside yourself and were reborn, more beautiful than ever, breathtaking! What happened in the past year doesn’t touch me at all; now I have broad shoulders, I know how to defend you, how to protect you, and the vultures stay away from me, they’re scared. I owe this strength to you, to your style, to your determination, to the fact that you never give up and that like the Phoenix, you rise from the ashes.

No one can understand what it means to love you because others have lost themselves in shallow loves with easy women. You’re not easy to win over; you don’t give yourself to just anyone; you’re only for special people, and I would like to tell those who boast of loving you to look inside themselves and take a good look at their conscience.

Are you sure you know what it means to love Juventus? It’s easy to be with someone who has success and money, but what if all of that is gone? What do you do, criticize? Leave? In sickness and in health, this applies to all those who love each other, and if you’re not willing to do this, please step aside! Our Lady will certainly not lack love; yours was just

a convenience.

‘To love on the edge of madness, those you find and never let go of,’ Toto Cutugno sang.

Loyalty, Respect, Honor, but above all, Love

Your devoted Marcello”