This thread is done to satisfy a curiosity Firdaus has about our immortal captain, Valentino Mazzola. It contains his biography and several anecdotes that remind us of him. On february, this year, he would have turned 83. But he left us before, in the height of his life and career. This is his story, the story of a myth that never ends.
THE YOUTH
Valentino Mazzola was born on February 26th, 1919, at Cassano on the river Adda, in Lombardy. Since a very young age, he showed interest in soccer. It’s said he organized a small squad in his neighbourhood, where he himself mounted the goalposts and the rudimentary nets. One day, the local team nets disappeared and the police officer took the young Valentino to the police station: he had seen him walking along the street, mounting the team’s nets, so he immediatly suspected him...
When still a youngster, around ten years old only, Valentino showed great heart and spirit by risking his own life to save a six-year old child from the Adda river. That boy would grow up to be Andrea Bonomi, Milan defender.
His character was being built then, but he had all the cards in his hand to become the legend he later would be.
His first true squad is Tresoldi, with which, in his late adolescence, a family friend sees him and takes him to the Alfa Romeo workshops. A good thing, because the years after the war are grim and difficult, and work is hard to find. So his career starts playing for the industry’s team at Arese.
Not long after, 1939, he’s called to integrate the Italian Navy at Venezia, on the Confienza bomber. He was lucky to avoid destination at the ill-famed “unbeatable fleet”. Some people see him playing soccer during spare time and ask him to present himself to the tryouts Venezia is holding. Valentino arrives. A star is born.
THE PLAYER
During that time, a young Milan player, brought during the 1937-38 season from Fiumana, tired of being reserve and so much more with the arrival of Cappello and Arcari, asks for a move elsewhere. He arrives to Venezia, thus sealing a nine-year intertwining in good and bad fate. By all accounts, they did not like each other, at first sight. Mazzola thought Loik a conflictive guy, maybe impressed by his seriousness and reserve. But in the field, their characteristics were so compatible they practically had no problems. Both were tied also by the modest origins and the will of overcoming destiny with the ball at their feet.
All started with a modest tenth place in 1939-40, then a twelfth place, and the third place of 1941-42. With that, Mazzola and Loik’s first great success was the Coppa Italia 1941 won over Roma, (3-3, 1-0) that put them under the eyes of the whole peninsula.
Both would make their debut in the Italian National Team on April 5th, 1942, scoring and playing blinders. Even the Divine Zamora had his say of the pair: “heirs to Piola and Meazza”
At Torino, the second place behind Roma was a bitter leaf to chew, even by the start-of -season standards. It was truly too close, too near... and this convinced president Novo that he should invest in all fronts to shape the squad to fit condition. And his eyes had long ago shifted in the direction of the gulf of Venice.
In Venezia, Ezio Loik and, of course, Valentino Mazzola were no longer promises, but downright stalwarts. So true was this, that their Venezia finished within a point of Toro. The problem was Piero Dusio, juventus president, who was following both players and had offered, at the very last, a million lire for them. The president of Venezia, Bennato, had established with Novo a right of precedence by mouth – not countersigned on paper – and he promptly made it effective before Rebuffo, the new man at the helm of the Neroverdi. He offered one million and two hundred thousand lire plus two players. It was done and kept secret.
Alas, the rumor went out before the end of the season, while Venezia and Torino played at Santa Elena stadium. The crowd angrily shouted “you’re sold out” as Toro claimed an early one-goal lead. Mazzola went into a rage, buckled his fists and lead single-handedly a 3-1 victory for Venezia. It was May 31st, 1942, and Torino had to wave goodbye to the scudetto. For Mazzola, this was his farewell and his slap in the wrists to those that had called him a sold-out. “Me, sold out, me, with the enthusiasm and passion for the game that I have, I would never have sold myself not even for a million!” he outbursted later.
A change of module (back to to the method) almost caused the downfall of such a splendid group. Mazzola resented highly of that change and started feebly his new stage. Two defeats -–home and away- caused Novo to abort the plan, and so, the derby ended 5-2 (Menti 2, Loik, Mazzola, Ferraris) and the run to the championship was clear.
That of 1943 was a fought, suffered, narrow victory, - one point over Livorno, seven over cugini - a counter punch for last year’s delusion. Some games, that year and after, were played at the Motovelodromo of Casale, for the Filadelfia stadium had suffered huge damage among air raids and bombing.
And then, the war began.
Nonetheless, Torino ended the 1944 championship (if we are to call that that!) with 26 games and 105 goals, 31 from Piola, only 10 by Mazzola. On 1945, Torino was the first team to be invited to play abroad after the war, across the border in Losanna, Switzerland.
1946 saw the perfect creature coming into view. Mazzola topscorer, a breathtaking spell of 65 goals, 13 points over Inter (second). On the next season the goals would become 104 (!!) and the points 10 over juventus.
Mainly, 1947-48 was the year of the records: biggest home victory (10-0 against Alessandria), games and points won at home (19/20, 39/40), maximum point average (65 in a 21 team serie A), advantage over the second runner up Milan (16 pts), total goals scored (125) and a long etcetera. The greatest of all records: on May 11th, 1947, TEN out of ELEVEN players entered the Comunale stadium to defeat Puskas’s Hungary (not yet the Great Hungary of the 1950’s, but scary nonetheless) 3-2. The only “non Granata” was goalkeeper Lucidio Sentimenti IV, from juventus. This is still a country record.
1948 saw new faces coming into the ranks. 1948 was a truly moved year: Milan was the winter champion, profiting from a mental vacation of the Granata, but it was to be a fleeting hope.
It was the year when Stan Mortensen did his famed olympic goal to Valerio Bacigalupo, when Vittorio Pozzo had to quit the national team job and the occasion for a grim coincidence: a photograph illustrates both captains, Valentino Mazzola and Frank Swift, exchanging comments.
And it was the year, too, when Torino was invited to play some games at Brazil. The records are still leading to confusion (in a book by Poli Délano, a game with River Plate is mentioned, in Profondo Granata, Lo Presti mentions four – two wins, one draw, one lost- a sports magazine, Estadio, says they played seven and won all of them, Tuttosport quotes two draws...) but nonetheless, they left so great a memory that in the Campo Antartico (Palmeiras’s camp) stood a photography of Valentino Mazzola for years. (and Altafini was nicknamed Mazzola for his likeness to the Captain)
Then, the last season, 1948-49, 78 goals, (some 60 by the Champions) and 60 points.
TEAM MATES
“He alone is half the squad. The other half is made by the rest of us together” Rigamonti on Mazzola.
This phrase by the rocky Mario Rigamonti echoed what everybody thought about Mazzola. He was capable of doing everything on the pitch, from organizing to... goalkeeping! Yes, goalkeeping. 13th june 1948, Genoa-Torino. Bacigalupo – another one with boiling temper – had punched Brighenti in retaliation for precedent troubling, and was given his marching orders. Mazzola took notice as captain, and with no further ado, went to the goalpost and played the rest of the game. In a commentated intervention he went out of the posts and punched out a ball with such violence it bounced to the midfield. Gabetto and Castigliano did their due and the game was won 2-1.
Even his wages were higher than those of his teammates – see below – but no one protested. They seemed to know it had to be that way. On the other hand, Mazzola was the one that integrated newcomers best, in an overt, sincere way. Sauro Tomá was scared when he first came to Torino. It was a squad much admired and loved by then, and he feared he was not going to be very welcome among such champions. But he did not count on Mazzola. Pointed a chair beside his kids’s he motioned a glass to him: “Take it Sauro, it makes good blood”. The integration was sealed.
Sometimes he even conseiled his team mates on matters of the game. For example, he conseiled Danillo Martelli to be more “rough” “But you know what to do: copy Rigamonti”. Mario was offended with him for some time.
Sometimes he even got his teammates – as stormy as himself, sometimes - to refrain themselves. In a game with Roma, on accord with the coach, he told everybody to stop after the sixth: no humiliation was meant, and not a goal was to be scored. But he did not count on a flawful shoot by Grezar – who didn’t believe his eyes and turned as to ask for forgiveness – and afterwards a PK, that Ossola asked to be converted in a free kick and shoot out on purpose. The thing is, the six starting goals were scored from minute 1 to 19 of the first half!
TECHNICALITIES
Mazzola was not very tall – around 1.70 – and if you watch the line-ups, he was surely the smallest in comparison. But his complexion was very solid and he worked stubbornly to perfection. He used to play “muro”: when he noted his left foot was flawable, he spent hours and hours kicking the ball with his left foot against a wall. That gave him the ability of shooting with both feet.
But his trademark were surely headers. In those times, no one made compliments when jumping, and defenses were tough. Well, despite not “towering” over 1.70, just see photographs of him jumping and marvel. Remember the balls of that time were very impredictable: they burst, became heavy with rain, and had this knots on one side, and shoes were not what they are now: they were quite heavy and the pegs on the bottom were hammered from tiny circles of leather stuck together. Valentino himself tied his shoes around his ankle and the arch of his foot, to prevent them slipping off during the game.
On estimations, he could jump over 1mt. And sometimes, even over the goalkeeper... Note, too, that modern headers often place one folded arm over their chest, as to protect themselves when falling. Valentino jumped with his arms paralel to the body, only folding them when too near of a rival or to keep balance.
His rythm disarmed most markers. Speedy for someone so robust, he ran outpacing his rivals, in a matter of minutes he was in defense and later in attack. The only man marker he suffered was Teobaldo Depetrini, because he kept sticking to his back, almost glued to his shirt. But even he sometimes “lost grip” of Mazzola.
Erbstein, the coach, was one of the pioneers in scientific soccer. He prepared carefully the games both before and after, and practically invented the retires. In those, Mazzola was always the first in the group runs.
He and Loik were raised in the “bridge” years in which System and Method were contending the technical scene. Of the two, Mazzola was the bright and Loik the shady. Loik worked on each and every ball, less spectacular than his mate, in a quiet lamplike fashion where Mazzola was all sparkles and stars. They were “mezzeali a tutto campo”, half wings in all the field, starting from behind and covering an ample fraction of the field. Mazzola was even capocannoniere in the 1946-47 season, 29 goals his score, owing a lot to 4 hat tricks and 3 doublets.
His character makes him play with wounded legs and fever (March 9, 1949). Courageous and strong, he followed intently most of the play himself, even getting down at defense to lend a hand, or on the slipstream of an attack, even if he didn’t launch it. His injuries were unfrequent, surprisingly as he got into many a row – rivals knew that was a way of getting him out of the game – and markers were not very careful back then. His character makes him play with wounded legs and fever sometimes, (example, the game against Milan, March 9, 1949) and win most of times. He even played hours after his divorce trial, reaching Rome in a private plane and changing in the car who took him to the stadium, taking Toro to yet another victory.
The most famous of all his moves, anyway, is described in the further passages. The “sleeves up” gesture. But his force was pushing his team mates to follow him and putting himself as the example, to merely sproning them with words. That was his force and his inimitability to this days.
FAMILY MATTERS
Valentino married at a young age, and his first child, Alessandro, was born in Nov. 8, 1942, during his first year at Turin. The child was always around whenever the squad was playing: Valentino thought he was a “portafortuna” (lucky charm). The love of soccer showed by his father saw Sandro posing for photographs always in the club’s uniform, with tiny soccer shoes complete with the “scudetto”, and a too-big-for-him soccer ball. Bacigalupo, the great Valerio, goalkeeper of Toro, acted towards him like he suffered from amnesthia and was never able to stop his shoots.
On holidays at Giovinazzo, he was often seen playing one-two with Sandro in the street. When Sandro was two and a half years old, on Feb.1, 1945, came the second child. Valentino chose to christen him “Ferruccio” after the president of Torino, Ferruccio Novo. Little “Uccio” accompanied his father and brother since a very young age. Valentino sat them both around for good luck.
Sadly, around 1946, the marriage split. At the time there was no divorce, so Valentino and Emilia went to court for the custody. Finally, Ferruccio went to live with his mother and Sandro came to live with his father and second wife, whom he had married at Vienna. (This lead afterwards to a dramatic tussle for his remains between both wives) Both brothers re-united only after the Superga tragedy: Sandro was six, Ferruccio only four.
But before this tragic events, Sandro was something like the team mascot. He went everywhere with the team and posed in the team photographs. Being the first of the Mazzola children, he received all the lessons Valentino gave him about soccer, but even if he was precocious, people who saw both him and his brother develop said Ferruccio was better. He was built along the same complexion lines and style of his father, (around same height, too) though he lacked the completitude or the tenacity. Sandro had the tenacity, but his body (1.78) was radically diferent, so his game was based in speed and oportunism. He scored a great deal more than his father, too, being a pure forward rather than a winger.
But little else of Valentino himself lingered on the boys. Sandro claims, when asked, he suffered a shock that made him forget most of the six years he spent with his father. Ferruccio shuts himself up when asked and does not want to know about anything involving those years. They were very critical, later on, to Torino and especially to Novo. Of all the Grande Torino heirs, it was them who kept more defiled from the group, never geting too involved in anything around the team or the memory of the Immortali.
Returning to Valentino, first Milan, (1947) then Inter (1948) appeared in his horizon, tempting him with a higher wage -Inter offered $10 million instead of the $2 he got at Torino, by conduct of his friends Amedeo Amedei and Benito Lorenzi. (It was him, “Veleno” Lorenzi, who later on would take both Mazzola kids to Inter).
Ferruccio Novo knew this, and always succeeded in keeping him at bay. It was a question of money, of course, but also of another nature: Valentino was homesick, his Lombardy meant a lot to him, and although he was not far away his home, he longed to return there. But, and this was yet another reason, the group he lead was harmonic and likeable, and he could not leave behind his friends, either. And so he stayed, through the years, and to his terrible destiny.
“THEY GOT GOOD MONEY BUT NOT MUCH MONEY”
This words correspond to Torino president Ferruccio Novo. In Mazzola’s case, he won sometimes twice his team mates.The payroll was of around 3-5000 lire, the “premi partita” after important success – say, a win over juventus – would reach 30 thousand lire... well, the dream of a worker back then was 1000 lire a month.
Just to give a picture of the situation. The players ate at the restaurant Al Cervo and reached the stadium by foot or by bike. Only three had a car: Loik, Maroso and Valentino Mazzola. His was a Lancia Ardea, an aristocratic type of car, today extremely rare. Even with this good levels of earning, as Novo said, it was good but not as good.
Outside the pitch, Valentino sold soccer balls with his signature on them. That led to an out-of-the-field row with juventus defender Carlo Parola. Both wanted the Federation to use their signed soccer balls. Finally, an agreement between Barassi, president of the fedration, and Parola, sanctioned his ball as the winner. But they didn’t tell Mazzola. Valentino knew and went into a storming rage, throwing his own soccer balls into the field. Parola and Mazzola got into a violent row, and the defender was ready to pick his bags when Pozzo, the Ct, convinced him they would use neutral balls.
Well, it seems they didn’t tell Mazzola this time either! Pozzo confesses so. By that time, Valentino was so irritated, he simply substituted the neutral ball with his and a new, more furious row, burst. Parola withdrew after a while. But after 15 minutes, the ball – the same that had been tossed and pushed to and fro during the row -burst and had to be replaced. Comment by Parola? “poor Valentino did not make great business then”
THAT FEVER-PITCH TEMPER
Champions do not have an easy character. Valentino Mazzola was no exception. While approaching to Venezia, in 1939, he observes the green-and-blacks carefully, but he hasn’t got proper soccer shoes to start with. Some people offer searching for shoes for him, he merely shakes his head. “With this pilgrims, I can win even barefooted” is his answer.
This is quite a “positive” side to it. When in rowdy mood, inside and outside the camp, it was not easy to placate him. President Novo could: he just let Valentino steam off, maybe banging his fists in rage over the scriptorium in his office, and then, only then, talk. It ended always – or almost always – in favour of Novo, who took special “care” in maintaining Mazzola in the city, seeing the above reasons.
We now know Mazzola was “half the team”, the captain and also the boiling steam that pulled them up. Sometimes, when the team was not in the proper mood, they would shout to each other in nervousness. It was up to Mazzola, then, to notice the signals of abulia or frustration: folding his sleeves up with his nervous, impatient hands, one by one, he gave a sideways glance.
Up in the gradinates, a man, Carlo Bolmida, would blow his horm three times, as if directing a cavalry assault. Valentino would then shout “Alé!” and it was the much famed “Claret quarter of hour”. All the team would press and surround and hammer against the rival goal And in came the goals.
The pride and athletic force of Mazzola is shown in the 1946-47 season, in which he scored three times in a victory against Vicenza. Yeah, a hat trick, so what? So, he scored 3 goals in two minutes (29’, 30’, 31’) making it the fastest hat trick in history, record never equaled.
In a memorable game against Alessandria, the crowd reproved the Granata with whistles. They only won 4-0, after all! In mid time, Mazzola went to the edge that separated public and pitch and said “We’ll burst out” and left for the dressing room. He did not want to overplay the Greys, in which Gallea, his former team mate and friend played, but he was irritated by the jeers of the crowd. So up went the sleeves and Toro closed the matter with other 6 goals. Ten zero.
By 1945, the rivality with juventus was reaching fever-pitch. A noted anecdote is the 1945 derby row. It’s unclear whether it started with Capaccioli-Loik or Borel-Mazzola, but Valentino soon fed up and punched the rival. It ended with all players involved and such a riot that, on the stands, people started to shoot each other (¡!) The players ended “facedown” on the pitch, but no sooner the last shoot had echoed, they re-started the fight more violently than before. Another couple of shoots and this time, the whole riot died and the game could continue.
The row Mazzola and Parola staged was so powdery that it risked many times to end bitterly. Once a therapist cited them both (both had distortions to an ankle) at the same hour in his studio, days before a derby match, as a joke. It almost ended as a tragedy: the menacing faces and shouts they threw each other were not friendly at all...
CHARACTER: FRIENDS, RIVALS...
“Assim deve jogar um interior e deve ser um capitâo”
Francisco Ferreira, Portugal captain, whose retirement game was to be the last of the Great Torino.
His temper in the pitch was nothing like his temper in life. Many recall the off-the-pitch Mazzola as a quiet and solitary individual, but he was the first at integrating and greeting the newcomers..He was often melancholic and quiet outside, even as he made good friends. With rivals, often, as we said of Amadei and Lorenzi, Parola (!!) and boniperti (!!), with other sportsmen, such as the great and tragic Fausto Coppi, and with common people as well. Friendship, for him, was a basic principle. That’s why he flew with the rest of the team despite being sick – he had caught a cough, probably after visiting Sandro, sick with flu, in the hospital – so as not to deceive his friend Ferreira, the Portuguese captain whose farewell he organized. It was the flight to Lisbon for the game played on May 3, 1949...
From his friends, Valentino got a lot of untangible things, whom he always thanked. Tomá recalls that after Superga he found in his mailbox a posthumous letter sent by the Captain before leaving Lisbon, to cheer him up – he did not take the flight to Lisbon due to injury - thanking him for his support and understanding during his family crisis. Friends, to him, were important, and he demonstrated it until the end.
He was also cautious, sometimes even playful. In a game started among the snow, he tied to the rear of his playing pants a ribbon ended in a horseshoe. Once he hid behind a closet to pay a joke to manager Civalleri. His seriousness found an opening with this tiny games.
He was also open to forgiveness when matters had settled and a generous heart. Mazzola asked Novo for friendly games as a gift after a good game, a lot of them “at honorem”. One famous game at Casale, they played against the local team in benefit of the dead partisans during the war. The same partisans that, in the final years of war, had planned to kidnap the squad as a demonstration of power, but afterward withdrew.
To all, Mazzola was like a big brother, always giving a hand when needed, with a loyal spirit and the interest of the team at heart. His secret was simple: “You can always win in soccer, as long as you change.” And he refused to take the center of the stage: “Soccer will always be a game of eleven”
The Filadelfia stadium who saw them, that should be an Italian pride, is now in ruins (see the URL in my signature) The people who saw them are mostly gone. But Valentino and his team mates are frozen in their eternal youth, up there in the hill, knowing that somehow they were as special as everyone knew them to be, and over all, never ever equaled.
And we are still here, and ever will, no matter what comes, “il Capitano ci guarda”.
ONLY FATE WON THEM OVER
THE YOUTH
Valentino Mazzola was born on February 26th, 1919, at Cassano on the river Adda, in Lombardy. Since a very young age, he showed interest in soccer. It’s said he organized a small squad in his neighbourhood, where he himself mounted the goalposts and the rudimentary nets. One day, the local team nets disappeared and the police officer took the young Valentino to the police station: he had seen him walking along the street, mounting the team’s nets, so he immediatly suspected him...
When still a youngster, around ten years old only, Valentino showed great heart and spirit by risking his own life to save a six-year old child from the Adda river. That boy would grow up to be Andrea Bonomi, Milan defender.
His character was being built then, but he had all the cards in his hand to become the legend he later would be.
His first true squad is Tresoldi, with which, in his late adolescence, a family friend sees him and takes him to the Alfa Romeo workshops. A good thing, because the years after the war are grim and difficult, and work is hard to find. So his career starts playing for the industry’s team at Arese.
Not long after, 1939, he’s called to integrate the Italian Navy at Venezia, on the Confienza bomber. He was lucky to avoid destination at the ill-famed “unbeatable fleet”. Some people see him playing soccer during spare time and ask him to present himself to the tryouts Venezia is holding. Valentino arrives. A star is born.
THE PLAYER
During that time, a young Milan player, brought during the 1937-38 season from Fiumana, tired of being reserve and so much more with the arrival of Cappello and Arcari, asks for a move elsewhere. He arrives to Venezia, thus sealing a nine-year intertwining in good and bad fate. By all accounts, they did not like each other, at first sight. Mazzola thought Loik a conflictive guy, maybe impressed by his seriousness and reserve. But in the field, their characteristics were so compatible they practically had no problems. Both were tied also by the modest origins and the will of overcoming destiny with the ball at their feet.
All started with a modest tenth place in 1939-40, then a twelfth place, and the third place of 1941-42. With that, Mazzola and Loik’s first great success was the Coppa Italia 1941 won over Roma, (3-3, 1-0) that put them under the eyes of the whole peninsula.
Both would make their debut in the Italian National Team on April 5th, 1942, scoring and playing blinders. Even the Divine Zamora had his say of the pair: “heirs to Piola and Meazza”
At Torino, the second place behind Roma was a bitter leaf to chew, even by the start-of -season standards. It was truly too close, too near... and this convinced president Novo that he should invest in all fronts to shape the squad to fit condition. And his eyes had long ago shifted in the direction of the gulf of Venice.
In Venezia, Ezio Loik and, of course, Valentino Mazzola were no longer promises, but downright stalwarts. So true was this, that their Venezia finished within a point of Toro. The problem was Piero Dusio, juventus president, who was following both players and had offered, at the very last, a million lire for them. The president of Venezia, Bennato, had established with Novo a right of precedence by mouth – not countersigned on paper – and he promptly made it effective before Rebuffo, the new man at the helm of the Neroverdi. He offered one million and two hundred thousand lire plus two players. It was done and kept secret.
Alas, the rumor went out before the end of the season, while Venezia and Torino played at Santa Elena stadium. The crowd angrily shouted “you’re sold out” as Toro claimed an early one-goal lead. Mazzola went into a rage, buckled his fists and lead single-handedly a 3-1 victory for Venezia. It was May 31st, 1942, and Torino had to wave goodbye to the scudetto. For Mazzola, this was his farewell and his slap in the wrists to those that had called him a sold-out. “Me, sold out, me, with the enthusiasm and passion for the game that I have, I would never have sold myself not even for a million!” he outbursted later.
A change of module (back to to the method) almost caused the downfall of such a splendid group. Mazzola resented highly of that change and started feebly his new stage. Two defeats -–home and away- caused Novo to abort the plan, and so, the derby ended 5-2 (Menti 2, Loik, Mazzola, Ferraris) and the run to the championship was clear.
That of 1943 was a fought, suffered, narrow victory, - one point over Livorno, seven over cugini - a counter punch for last year’s delusion. Some games, that year and after, were played at the Motovelodromo of Casale, for the Filadelfia stadium had suffered huge damage among air raids and bombing.
And then, the war began.
Nonetheless, Torino ended the 1944 championship (if we are to call that that!) with 26 games and 105 goals, 31 from Piola, only 10 by Mazzola. On 1945, Torino was the first team to be invited to play abroad after the war, across the border in Losanna, Switzerland.
1946 saw the perfect creature coming into view. Mazzola topscorer, a breathtaking spell of 65 goals, 13 points over Inter (second). On the next season the goals would become 104 (!!) and the points 10 over juventus.
Mainly, 1947-48 was the year of the records: biggest home victory (10-0 against Alessandria), games and points won at home (19/20, 39/40), maximum point average (65 in a 21 team serie A), advantage over the second runner up Milan (16 pts), total goals scored (125) and a long etcetera. The greatest of all records: on May 11th, 1947, TEN out of ELEVEN players entered the Comunale stadium to defeat Puskas’s Hungary (not yet the Great Hungary of the 1950’s, but scary nonetheless) 3-2. The only “non Granata” was goalkeeper Lucidio Sentimenti IV, from juventus. This is still a country record.
1948 saw new faces coming into the ranks. 1948 was a truly moved year: Milan was the winter champion, profiting from a mental vacation of the Granata, but it was to be a fleeting hope.
It was the year when Stan Mortensen did his famed olympic goal to Valerio Bacigalupo, when Vittorio Pozzo had to quit the national team job and the occasion for a grim coincidence: a photograph illustrates both captains, Valentino Mazzola and Frank Swift, exchanging comments.
And it was the year, too, when Torino was invited to play some games at Brazil. The records are still leading to confusion (in a book by Poli Délano, a game with River Plate is mentioned, in Profondo Granata, Lo Presti mentions four – two wins, one draw, one lost- a sports magazine, Estadio, says they played seven and won all of them, Tuttosport quotes two draws...) but nonetheless, they left so great a memory that in the Campo Antartico (Palmeiras’s camp) stood a photography of Valentino Mazzola for years. (and Altafini was nicknamed Mazzola for his likeness to the Captain)
Then, the last season, 1948-49, 78 goals, (some 60 by the Champions) and 60 points.
TEAM MATES
“He alone is half the squad. The other half is made by the rest of us together” Rigamonti on Mazzola.
This phrase by the rocky Mario Rigamonti echoed what everybody thought about Mazzola. He was capable of doing everything on the pitch, from organizing to... goalkeeping! Yes, goalkeeping. 13th june 1948, Genoa-Torino. Bacigalupo – another one with boiling temper – had punched Brighenti in retaliation for precedent troubling, and was given his marching orders. Mazzola took notice as captain, and with no further ado, went to the goalpost and played the rest of the game. In a commentated intervention he went out of the posts and punched out a ball with such violence it bounced to the midfield. Gabetto and Castigliano did their due and the game was won 2-1.
Even his wages were higher than those of his teammates – see below – but no one protested. They seemed to know it had to be that way. On the other hand, Mazzola was the one that integrated newcomers best, in an overt, sincere way. Sauro Tomá was scared when he first came to Torino. It was a squad much admired and loved by then, and he feared he was not going to be very welcome among such champions. But he did not count on Mazzola. Pointed a chair beside his kids’s he motioned a glass to him: “Take it Sauro, it makes good blood”. The integration was sealed.
Sometimes he even conseiled his team mates on matters of the game. For example, he conseiled Danillo Martelli to be more “rough” “But you know what to do: copy Rigamonti”. Mario was offended with him for some time.
Sometimes he even got his teammates – as stormy as himself, sometimes - to refrain themselves. In a game with Roma, on accord with the coach, he told everybody to stop after the sixth: no humiliation was meant, and not a goal was to be scored. But he did not count on a flawful shoot by Grezar – who didn’t believe his eyes and turned as to ask for forgiveness – and afterwards a PK, that Ossola asked to be converted in a free kick and shoot out on purpose. The thing is, the six starting goals were scored from minute 1 to 19 of the first half!
TECHNICALITIES
Mazzola was not very tall – around 1.70 – and if you watch the line-ups, he was surely the smallest in comparison. But his complexion was very solid and he worked stubbornly to perfection. He used to play “muro”: when he noted his left foot was flawable, he spent hours and hours kicking the ball with his left foot against a wall. That gave him the ability of shooting with both feet.
But his trademark were surely headers. In those times, no one made compliments when jumping, and defenses were tough. Well, despite not “towering” over 1.70, just see photographs of him jumping and marvel. Remember the balls of that time were very impredictable: they burst, became heavy with rain, and had this knots on one side, and shoes were not what they are now: they were quite heavy and the pegs on the bottom were hammered from tiny circles of leather stuck together. Valentino himself tied his shoes around his ankle and the arch of his foot, to prevent them slipping off during the game.
On estimations, he could jump over 1mt. And sometimes, even over the goalkeeper... Note, too, that modern headers often place one folded arm over their chest, as to protect themselves when falling. Valentino jumped with his arms paralel to the body, only folding them when too near of a rival or to keep balance.
His rythm disarmed most markers. Speedy for someone so robust, he ran outpacing his rivals, in a matter of minutes he was in defense and later in attack. The only man marker he suffered was Teobaldo Depetrini, because he kept sticking to his back, almost glued to his shirt. But even he sometimes “lost grip” of Mazzola.
Erbstein, the coach, was one of the pioneers in scientific soccer. He prepared carefully the games both before and after, and practically invented the retires. In those, Mazzola was always the first in the group runs.
He and Loik were raised in the “bridge” years in which System and Method were contending the technical scene. Of the two, Mazzola was the bright and Loik the shady. Loik worked on each and every ball, less spectacular than his mate, in a quiet lamplike fashion where Mazzola was all sparkles and stars. They were “mezzeali a tutto campo”, half wings in all the field, starting from behind and covering an ample fraction of the field. Mazzola was even capocannoniere in the 1946-47 season, 29 goals his score, owing a lot to 4 hat tricks and 3 doublets.
His character makes him play with wounded legs and fever (March 9, 1949). Courageous and strong, he followed intently most of the play himself, even getting down at defense to lend a hand, or on the slipstream of an attack, even if he didn’t launch it. His injuries were unfrequent, surprisingly as he got into many a row – rivals knew that was a way of getting him out of the game – and markers were not very careful back then. His character makes him play with wounded legs and fever sometimes, (example, the game against Milan, March 9, 1949) and win most of times. He even played hours after his divorce trial, reaching Rome in a private plane and changing in the car who took him to the stadium, taking Toro to yet another victory.
The most famous of all his moves, anyway, is described in the further passages. The “sleeves up” gesture. But his force was pushing his team mates to follow him and putting himself as the example, to merely sproning them with words. That was his force and his inimitability to this days.
FAMILY MATTERS
Valentino married at a young age, and his first child, Alessandro, was born in Nov. 8, 1942, during his first year at Turin. The child was always around whenever the squad was playing: Valentino thought he was a “portafortuna” (lucky charm). The love of soccer showed by his father saw Sandro posing for photographs always in the club’s uniform, with tiny soccer shoes complete with the “scudetto”, and a too-big-for-him soccer ball. Bacigalupo, the great Valerio, goalkeeper of Toro, acted towards him like he suffered from amnesthia and was never able to stop his shoots.
On holidays at Giovinazzo, he was often seen playing one-two with Sandro in the street. When Sandro was two and a half years old, on Feb.1, 1945, came the second child. Valentino chose to christen him “Ferruccio” after the president of Torino, Ferruccio Novo. Little “Uccio” accompanied his father and brother since a very young age. Valentino sat them both around for good luck.
Sadly, around 1946, the marriage split. At the time there was no divorce, so Valentino and Emilia went to court for the custody. Finally, Ferruccio went to live with his mother and Sandro came to live with his father and second wife, whom he had married at Vienna. (This lead afterwards to a dramatic tussle for his remains between both wives) Both brothers re-united only after the Superga tragedy: Sandro was six, Ferruccio only four.
But before this tragic events, Sandro was something like the team mascot. He went everywhere with the team and posed in the team photographs. Being the first of the Mazzola children, he received all the lessons Valentino gave him about soccer, but even if he was precocious, people who saw both him and his brother develop said Ferruccio was better. He was built along the same complexion lines and style of his father, (around same height, too) though he lacked the completitude or the tenacity. Sandro had the tenacity, but his body (1.78) was radically diferent, so his game was based in speed and oportunism. He scored a great deal more than his father, too, being a pure forward rather than a winger.
But little else of Valentino himself lingered on the boys. Sandro claims, when asked, he suffered a shock that made him forget most of the six years he spent with his father. Ferruccio shuts himself up when asked and does not want to know about anything involving those years. They were very critical, later on, to Torino and especially to Novo. Of all the Grande Torino heirs, it was them who kept more defiled from the group, never geting too involved in anything around the team or the memory of the Immortali.
Returning to Valentino, first Milan, (1947) then Inter (1948) appeared in his horizon, tempting him with a higher wage -Inter offered $10 million instead of the $2 he got at Torino, by conduct of his friends Amedeo Amedei and Benito Lorenzi. (It was him, “Veleno” Lorenzi, who later on would take both Mazzola kids to Inter).
Ferruccio Novo knew this, and always succeeded in keeping him at bay. It was a question of money, of course, but also of another nature: Valentino was homesick, his Lombardy meant a lot to him, and although he was not far away his home, he longed to return there. But, and this was yet another reason, the group he lead was harmonic and likeable, and he could not leave behind his friends, either. And so he stayed, through the years, and to his terrible destiny.
“THEY GOT GOOD MONEY BUT NOT MUCH MONEY”
This words correspond to Torino president Ferruccio Novo. In Mazzola’s case, he won sometimes twice his team mates.The payroll was of around 3-5000 lire, the “premi partita” after important success – say, a win over juventus – would reach 30 thousand lire... well, the dream of a worker back then was 1000 lire a month.
Just to give a picture of the situation. The players ate at the restaurant Al Cervo and reached the stadium by foot or by bike. Only three had a car: Loik, Maroso and Valentino Mazzola. His was a Lancia Ardea, an aristocratic type of car, today extremely rare. Even with this good levels of earning, as Novo said, it was good but not as good.
Outside the pitch, Valentino sold soccer balls with his signature on them. That led to an out-of-the-field row with juventus defender Carlo Parola. Both wanted the Federation to use their signed soccer balls. Finally, an agreement between Barassi, president of the fedration, and Parola, sanctioned his ball as the winner. But they didn’t tell Mazzola. Valentino knew and went into a storming rage, throwing his own soccer balls into the field. Parola and Mazzola got into a violent row, and the defender was ready to pick his bags when Pozzo, the Ct, convinced him they would use neutral balls.
Well, it seems they didn’t tell Mazzola this time either! Pozzo confesses so. By that time, Valentino was so irritated, he simply substituted the neutral ball with his and a new, more furious row, burst. Parola withdrew after a while. But after 15 minutes, the ball – the same that had been tossed and pushed to and fro during the row -burst and had to be replaced. Comment by Parola? “poor Valentino did not make great business then”
THAT FEVER-PITCH TEMPER
Champions do not have an easy character. Valentino Mazzola was no exception. While approaching to Venezia, in 1939, he observes the green-and-blacks carefully, but he hasn’t got proper soccer shoes to start with. Some people offer searching for shoes for him, he merely shakes his head. “With this pilgrims, I can win even barefooted” is his answer.
This is quite a “positive” side to it. When in rowdy mood, inside and outside the camp, it was not easy to placate him. President Novo could: he just let Valentino steam off, maybe banging his fists in rage over the scriptorium in his office, and then, only then, talk. It ended always – or almost always – in favour of Novo, who took special “care” in maintaining Mazzola in the city, seeing the above reasons.
We now know Mazzola was “half the team”, the captain and also the boiling steam that pulled them up. Sometimes, when the team was not in the proper mood, they would shout to each other in nervousness. It was up to Mazzola, then, to notice the signals of abulia or frustration: folding his sleeves up with his nervous, impatient hands, one by one, he gave a sideways glance.
Up in the gradinates, a man, Carlo Bolmida, would blow his horm three times, as if directing a cavalry assault. Valentino would then shout “Alé!” and it was the much famed “Claret quarter of hour”. All the team would press and surround and hammer against the rival goal And in came the goals.
The pride and athletic force of Mazzola is shown in the 1946-47 season, in which he scored three times in a victory against Vicenza. Yeah, a hat trick, so what? So, he scored 3 goals in two minutes (29’, 30’, 31’) making it the fastest hat trick in history, record never equaled.
In a memorable game against Alessandria, the crowd reproved the Granata with whistles. They only won 4-0, after all! In mid time, Mazzola went to the edge that separated public and pitch and said “We’ll burst out” and left for the dressing room. He did not want to overplay the Greys, in which Gallea, his former team mate and friend played, but he was irritated by the jeers of the crowd. So up went the sleeves and Toro closed the matter with other 6 goals. Ten zero.
By 1945, the rivality with juventus was reaching fever-pitch. A noted anecdote is the 1945 derby row. It’s unclear whether it started with Capaccioli-Loik or Borel-Mazzola, but Valentino soon fed up and punched the rival. It ended with all players involved and such a riot that, on the stands, people started to shoot each other (¡!) The players ended “facedown” on the pitch, but no sooner the last shoot had echoed, they re-started the fight more violently than before. Another couple of shoots and this time, the whole riot died and the game could continue.
The row Mazzola and Parola staged was so powdery that it risked many times to end bitterly. Once a therapist cited them both (both had distortions to an ankle) at the same hour in his studio, days before a derby match, as a joke. It almost ended as a tragedy: the menacing faces and shouts they threw each other were not friendly at all...
CHARACTER: FRIENDS, RIVALS...
“Assim deve jogar um interior e deve ser um capitâo”
Francisco Ferreira, Portugal captain, whose retirement game was to be the last of the Great Torino.
His temper in the pitch was nothing like his temper in life. Many recall the off-the-pitch Mazzola as a quiet and solitary individual, but he was the first at integrating and greeting the newcomers..He was often melancholic and quiet outside, even as he made good friends. With rivals, often, as we said of Amadei and Lorenzi, Parola (!!) and boniperti (!!), with other sportsmen, such as the great and tragic Fausto Coppi, and with common people as well. Friendship, for him, was a basic principle. That’s why he flew with the rest of the team despite being sick – he had caught a cough, probably after visiting Sandro, sick with flu, in the hospital – so as not to deceive his friend Ferreira, the Portuguese captain whose farewell he organized. It was the flight to Lisbon for the game played on May 3, 1949...
From his friends, Valentino got a lot of untangible things, whom he always thanked. Tomá recalls that after Superga he found in his mailbox a posthumous letter sent by the Captain before leaving Lisbon, to cheer him up – he did not take the flight to Lisbon due to injury - thanking him for his support and understanding during his family crisis. Friends, to him, were important, and he demonstrated it until the end.
He was also cautious, sometimes even playful. In a game started among the snow, he tied to the rear of his playing pants a ribbon ended in a horseshoe. Once he hid behind a closet to pay a joke to manager Civalleri. His seriousness found an opening with this tiny games.
He was also open to forgiveness when matters had settled and a generous heart. Mazzola asked Novo for friendly games as a gift after a good game, a lot of them “at honorem”. One famous game at Casale, they played against the local team in benefit of the dead partisans during the war. The same partisans that, in the final years of war, had planned to kidnap the squad as a demonstration of power, but afterward withdrew.
To all, Mazzola was like a big brother, always giving a hand when needed, with a loyal spirit and the interest of the team at heart. His secret was simple: “You can always win in soccer, as long as you change.” And he refused to take the center of the stage: “Soccer will always be a game of eleven”
The Filadelfia stadium who saw them, that should be an Italian pride, is now in ruins (see the URL in my signature) The people who saw them are mostly gone. But Valentino and his team mates are frozen in their eternal youth, up there in the hill, knowing that somehow they were as special as everyone knew them to be, and over all, never ever equaled.
And we are still here, and ever will, no matter what comes, “il Capitano ci guarda”.
ONLY FATE WON THEM OVER
