Andrea Piras emerges from a backroom in the hotel, exuding a commanding presence reminiscent of Jack Nicholson in Chinatown. I make my way down a bustling street to meet him, passing through the picturesque heart of the city and the imposing fascist train station, until I reach the vibrant, graffiti-adorned streets of the northern districts. “Drinks are on me,” I offer cheerfully. Andrea laughs and replies, “Don’t worry, I’m the manager.” We settle down with some beer and focaccia, and Andrea proceeds to share some unfortunate news from the doctor: he has suffered a compound fracture of the nasal septum and won’t be able to play in the final tomorrow.
This injury, a testament to the long-standing tradition of sporting mishaps, occurred during the semi-finals of Florence’s Calcio Storico, a unique blend of soccer, rugby, and no-holds-barred brawling. Each team consists of 27 players, and rules are few and far between. Dressed in Renaissance attire, the four competing quarters of Florence, namely Santa Croce (Blues), Santa Maria Novella (Reds), Santo Spirito (Whites), and San Giovanni (Greens), battle it out on the field. Andrea proudly represents the Reds.
The injury was inflicted upon him within the first 20 minutes of the game when he was struck so forcefully that one of his contact lenses went flying. Undeterred, Andrea soldiered on for the remaining 30 minutes. Such resilience is not uncommon in this sport. Tales of legends like Daniele Cataldi, a friend of Andrea’s, tearing a ligament in his arm but continuing to play one-handed and even knocking someone out, are often recounted.
Reflecting on his introduction to this extraordinary game, Andrea reminisces, “I remember as a kid the first time I went to see a match, and I was intimidated. There were these massive guys, 54 people on the pitch, and I didn’t know where to focus my attention. But when I left, I thought to myself, ‘I love this. I may not fully understand it, but I want to be a part of it.'”
Some claim that the origins of Calcio Storico trace back to Roman times. A notable match took place in 1530, defying the fact that the city was besieged by the Holy Roman Empire. However, the rules were officially codified in 1580 by Giovanni Maria Bardi, the Count of Vernio. While Siena’s Palio, a medieval spectacle, has transformed into a grand event with expensive tickets, corporate hospitality, and even a cameo in a James Bond film, Florence has managed to preserve the raw essence of this sport despite its status as a tourism hotspot in Tuscany.
Nevertheless, it was only after implementing a series of reforms, such as limiting fighting to one-on-one confrontations and banning strikes from behind, that Andrea felt ready to participate in 2012. “It became fairer. People still fought vigorously, but in a more controlled manner.”
Success in this game hinges on a strategic blend of tactics and sheer physicality. Although the matches may initially appear as chaotic melees between tattooed peasants of the past, there is a method to the madness. It’s crucial to have a mix of fighters and runners on the team; the fighters neutralize the opposition, paving the way for the runners to make a breakthrough. Too many runners result in being bloodied and defeated, while an excess of fighters compromises scoring goals known as “cacce.”
Each team has its unique approach. The Reds adopt a five-row formation, unlike this year’s other finalists, the Blues, who adhere to a four-row system. With his background in martial arts, Andrea typically takes his place on the front line alongside his fellow brawlers, with limited involvement in ball play. Behind them, there are progressively diminishing rows consisting mostly of rugby players who possess the speed to outmaneuver the opposing team, accompanied by a few vigilant goalkeepers.
For the Reds, tomorrow holds great significance. Prior to the pandemic, they had comfortably secured consecutive victories in the finals. However, in 2021, the Calcio Storico was held without an audience, and the Reds chose not to participate as they believe this game is meant for the people of Florence and not for television. In 2022, lacking practice, they suffered a 5-1 defeat in the semi-finals. This year, however, they have undergone rigorous training, and with Andrea’s unfortunate absence due to injury, they emerged victorious against the Greens in the semi-finals earlier this month.
Andrea expresses concern for his teammates, sensing that the final could escalate into a fierce rivalry. Although he does not disclose any names, he is aware that some of his fellow players harbor deep grudges against the Blues. Before departing for their final training session, Andrea shares a photo of the sign hanging in their gym, a testament to the team’s spirit. It reads, “This will never be a church, but many have prayed to us. This will never be a school, but it will teach you life. This will never be a trench, but we prepare for war. You can go anywhere, but this will always be home because this is where your heart beats fast.”
The date is June 24, the feast day of San Giovanni, and it is the grand finale. I make my way to Piazza Santa Maria Novella, where the ceremony commences. The scorching afternoon sun bears down on the bewildered tourists, who find themselves trapped amidst the crowds in popular spots. In my mind, the image of Stendhal appears, unaffected by awe or syndrome, but rather stuck behind an overheated American couple burdened with excessive luggage. “Hey Stendhal! Buddy! Can we take a picture? Dov’è il bagno, Stendhal?”
Arriving at the piazza, one might think that the Holy Roman Empire’s siege is still underway. Everyone is decked out in 16th-century clothing, from breeches to tights. Regiments of arquebusiers linger in the shade, smoking cigarettes, while shadowy figures in black robes clutch chests filled with florins. Teenage flagbearers practice their skills, hurling pennants between one another. The vibrant colors of Florence are proudly displayed. Eventually, orderly columns take shape, and a solemn drumbeat announces the commencement of the procession, moving eastward towards Piazza Santa Croce, the historical venue for the match since at least the 16th century.
As I weave my way through the dense crowd, I finally reach the Red team. Suddenly, the atmosphere transforms from a medieval fair to one of excitement, accompanied by flares and fervent chants. The rallying cry of “picchia rosso!” (loosely translated as “hit them hard, reds!”) reverberates through the air. I catch a glimpse of the players up close, and some of them are truly imposing figures. Young supporters rush to their side, pouring water over their heads to provide relief from the scorching heat. I come across Andrea, visibly nervous and disappointed not to be joining his comrades in the fight. He says little, and I hurry ahead.
On the steps of the Palazzo Vecchio stands Dario Nardella, the mayor of Florence since 2014. He waves to the thousands-strong crowd before embarking on a walk to the stadium. As I walk alongside him, behind halberdiers and what appears to be a court magician, Nardella expresses his desire to avoid exploiting the Calcio Storico for tourism. “I prefer the connection with the true Florentine people,” he states firmly. This is clearly a pressing issue for Nardella, considering the city’s enormous influx of tourists, which surpasses its resident population by twentyfold. Nardella also mentions his efforts to reform the sport, emphasizing that the violence observed in past tournaments hindered its promotion. After a contentious set of semi-finals in 2014, he made the decision to cancel the final and introduce new rules. “Thanks to these rules, the gameplay has become much more dynamic.”
Suddenly, I am whisked away. It’s time to take our seats. I find myself in awe of the spectacle before me. The heat is overwhelming, causing my frozen water bottle to melt instantly. Gradually, the arena fills with costumed participants, including crossbowmen, pikemen, and drummers. Led by a ceremonial bull, the players make their entrance, prompting the crowd to erupt in cheers, setting off fireworks, and hoisting banners. As they make their rounds in the arena, the red team members toss roses to women in the…
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