Vespa Tunes VIII - La Leva Calcistica della Classe '68, Francesco De Gregori, 1982.
The World Cup is on at the moment, though frankly in Rome you’d hardly know. Largely this is because, despite winning the Euros last year, Italy didn’t even qualify. I’m not enthusiastic about football in the least but the World Cup is different, and there’s something about communal events that I love. The first I followed was Italia ’90, when England did surprisingly well, Gazza cried, London enjoyed the long summer evenings of a heatwave (back before heatwaves were menacing), and being allowed to stay up to watch evening games on television was just about the most exciting thing I could imagine.
This year, however, it’s started without me really noticing and, absurdly, it’s taking place in the chill of late autumn so no outdoor screens or people spilling out of bars on hot summer evenings.
Nevertheless it is an excuse for my favourite Italian football-related song, La Leva Calcistica della classe ’68 by Francesco de Gregori, which I suppose translates, awkwardly, as the “The Football Call Up of the Class of ’68” (which in Italy means those born in 1968). Francesco De Gregori is a singer-songwriter often described as a sort of Italian Bob Dylan, which is of course as absurd as comparing Trastevere to Greenwich Village. They are each their own thing, and fabulous in very different ways. De Gregori was named for an uncle, a partisan killed in the intra-partisan massacre of Porzus in Eastern Friuli by the Slovenian border. He mostly grew up in Rome, and studied at the Liceo Classico Virgilio on via Giulia during the heat of il sessantotto, the year he chooses for the birthdate of the protagonist of his song, a boy called Nino who dreams of becoming a footballer.
In the torrid heat of this year’s interminable Roman summer we saw Francesco De Gregori play the song at the Stadio Olimpico, where the final of that first World Cup I had followed on television from across the Alps aged twelve took place in 1990. We’d bought the last cheap seats on a whim the day before for the opening date of a tour De Gregori is playing with that other great exponent of romanitas, Antonello Venditti, and I loved it. Here’s my translation.
Sole sul tetto dei palazzi in costruzione
Sole che batte sul campo di pallone
E terra e polvere che tira vento
E poi magari piove
Nino cammina che sembra un uomo
Con le scarpette di gomma dura
12 anni e il cuore pieno di paura
Sun on the roofs of buildings under construction
Sun beating on the football pitch
And dirt and dust because it’s windy
Then maybe it’ll rain
Nino walks like a man
With his rubber football boots
Twelve years old and his heart full of fear
Ma Nino non aver paura
Di sbagliare un calcio di rigore
Non è mica da questi particolari
Che si giudica un giocatore
Un giocatore lo vedi dal coraggio
Dall'altruismo e dalla fantasia
Nino, don’t be scared
Of missing a penalty
These aren’t the things
On which a player is judged
You can see the player in courage,
altruism, and imagination
E chissà quanti ne hai visti e quanti ne vedrai
Di giocatori tristi che non hanno vinto mai
Ed hanno appeso le scarpe a qualche tipo di muro
E adesso ridono dentro al bar
E sono innamorati da dieci anni
Con una donna che non hanno amato mai
And who knows how many sad players who’ve never won
you’ve seen and how many you’ll see
And they hung their boots on some sort of wall
And now they laugh at the bar
And have been in love for ten years
With a woman they’ve never loved
Chissà quanti ne hai veduti
Chissà quanti ne vedrai
Nino capì fin dal primo momento
L'allenatore sembrava contento
E allora mise il cuore dentro alle scarpe
E corse più veloce del vento
Prese un pallone che sembrava stregato
Accanto al piede rimaneva incollato
Entrò nell'area, tirò senza guardare
Ed il portiere lo fece passare
Who knows how many you’ve seen
Who knows how many you’ll see
Nino understood right away
The coach seemed happy
And so he put his heart in his boots
And ran faster than the wind
He took the ball which seemed bewitched
Glued to his foot
He went into the box, and struck without looking
And the keeper let it past
Ma Nino non aver paura
Di tirare un calcio di rigore
Non è mica da questi particolari
Che si giudica un giocatore
Un giocatore lo vedi dal coraggio
Dall'altruismo e dalla fantasia
Il ragazzo si farà
Anche se ha le spalle strette
Questo altr'anno giocherà
Con la maglia numero sette
Nino, don’t be scared
Of taking a penalty
These aren’t the things
On which a player is judged
You can see the player in courage,
altruism, and imagination
The boy will make it
Even if he has slim shoulders
Next year he’ll wear the number seven jersey