The emotion shown by former Bulgarian champion Hristo Stoichkov against the racism and Nazism of his fans has gone around the world. Now Italian clubs are also beginning to take a firm stand against this unacceptable and widespread phenomenon.
Tears in the world of football are hard to come by. When they are shed by a former champion such as Bulgarian Hristo Stoichkov, famous not only for his play on the pitch but also for his far-from-gentle temperament, they make an even greater impact. It happened on 15 October, the day after the disgraceful spectacle that unfolded in the stands of Sofia's Vasil Levski Stadium: during the Bulgaria–England match (which ended, for the record, with a resounding 0–6), amid crude chants and Nazi salutes, the home supporters directed racist monkey chants and abuse at the opposing team's Black players.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uun4rCjVNo8
Suspended twice by the referee, the football match descended into a kind of diplomatic incident, with the Football Association calling the episodes "abhorrent and unacceptable at any level" and urging Uefa (Union of European Football Associations) to intervene with severe punishments. Uefa in turn opened an investigation on four charges, while the president of the Bulgarian Football Federation immediately resigned.
But it was — unwittingly — the greatest footballer in Bulgarian history who turned the match into a media event: the winner of the Ballon d'Or in 1994, the highest individual honour in the sport. Appearing live on the television programme Fútbol Central on the American network Tudn, Hristo Stoichkov first called for exemplary punishments for those responsible, then broke down in anguished tears: "This situation brings me to tears and sadness; the people of Bulgaria do not deserve to suffer like this because of them. The solution is to leave the pitch or, more harshly, to ban these supporters for five years, barring them from international and club competitions."
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An image powerful enough to go viral in every corner of the world, for at least two reasons. The first is that the 53-year-old former striker is an absolute celebrity not only in his homeland, but also in Spain (he spent several years at Barcelona, winning virtually everything), in Italy in the colours of Parma, and in the United States, where in 1994 he played a starring role at the World Cup — declaring, among other things, "at this World Cup, God is Bulgarian." And this brings us to the second reason: between brawls, bans and feuds, Stoichkov's career was also marked by his fiery temperament. For those who remembered his ferocious competitive spirit on the pitch, that moment of raw emotion came as something of a shock.
In football, racism remains a plague that is difficult to eradicate. And if a Bulgarian champion of the past is moved to tears, Italy certainly has nothing to smile about: in our stadiums these episodes continue to occur on a weekly basis. But at last something is stirring, among the very clubs that — far too often in recent years — have preferred to shelve the problem rather than tackle it head-on. That is the case with Rome and Pescara, which in recent times have decided to take a firm stand against certain supporters. At the end of September, the yellow-and-red club reported to the police and to Instagram the account of a supporter who had directed racist abuse at Brazilian defender Juan Jesus, who plays for Rome, on the social network. It was the player himself who had flagged the incident to his club ("You already know what to do with a supporter like this. Proud to be who I am"), which subsequently banned the person responsible from Rome matches for life.
In mid-October, a Pescara supporter posted on Twitter criticising the club's stance: "Enough of this racism story, I've always supported you but I'd say it's time to put an end to it — you and those fucking communists. You're about to lose a fan, your call."
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An opening immediately seized upon by the Abruzzo club: "Our call? Very well, ladies and gentlemen, Andrea is no longer one of our supporters." After years of vague and generic declarations, even in the Bel Paese action is finally beginning to be taken.
All the more so because the Fédération internationale de football association (Fifa), football's global governing body, decided last July to toughen penalties for racist incidents: players found guilty of discriminatory behaviour will be suspended for at least ten matches, while racist conduct by supporters will result in an immediate defeat for their team. Uefa regulations also provide, under Article 14 of the disciplinary regulations, for a lengthy range of sanctions extending as far as match suspension; in practice, however, in the vast majority of cases the punishment is limited to the closure of one section of the stadium.
A suspension that is (in theory) also foreseen in Italy, where two matches have passed sadly into history. On 26 December last year, during Inter–Naples, Senegalese player Kalidou Koulibaly was targeted by racist monkey chants from a section of the home supporters from the very first minutes of play; despite protests from the player himself and the Naples bench, the referee did not stop the match — and in fact ended up sending off the defender for a sarcastic round of applause. In the days that followed, the Milan club decided to launch the anti-racism campaign "Brothers Universally United", an acronym formed from the "buu" chants heard all too often inside our stadiums. Less well known is the story of referee Paolo Gavillucci, who in May 2018 suspended the Sampdoria–Naples match for three minutes — applying the regulations to the letter — on account of racist chants directed at the city of Naples. It was the penultimate professional match refereed by the official from Latina, who was stood down at the end of the season by the Italian Referees Association for "substantiated technical reasons." After losing a lengthy legal battle, Gavillucci today officiates youth and school matches on small pitches on the outskirts of Rome.
