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CARLO ANCELOTTI the beautiful games of an ordinary genius PDF


 I’ll keep addressing him by his first name; I always have. When a footballer
stops playing, he can finally make friends with his coach. A certain closeness
springs up, and barriers come down. I’ve been lucky in that I got that part of the
job done ahead of time. I practically came into the world as a member of
Carletto’s team; we’ve always been de facto partners. People say that I was a
banner for A. C. Milan. If that’s true, then he was the wind that made me flutter.
When the wind of Carletto blows, I’m out on the field, with my jersey, number 3,
a perfect number in part thanks to my teammates. And he points the way. In his
management of the locker room and team meetings, Carletto remains what he
has always been: an unparalleled comedian. He manages to crack jokes even
before the final game in the Champions League. He talks about roast dinners, he
cocks an eyebrow, and we go on to win, because we are relaxed. People imagine
that a coach has to make tear-jerking speeches to his team at the most decisive
moments, and in fact there have been tears shed at times like that—but it was
always because we were laughing so hard. On certain occasions, we’ve heard
total silence from the locker room of the opposing team, while in ours Silvio
Berlusconi and our coach were telling us jokes. We’re a family, and that’s what
families do.
Carletto never goes overboard—with the possible exception of when he’s
eating, because once he sits down and grabs a knife and fork, you’d need an
exorcist to stop him. Ever since he became a coach, he sits at a special table,
with a special menu, and a special digestive system. He eats, he drinks, he eats
some more, he drinks some more. When something good is served, forget about
all his discipline and all his methods, including his beloved Christmas Tree. He
can’t stand to keep all that abundance to himself. So he starts calling us over:
“Paolo, come here. You have to taste this.” “But Carlo, I’m the captain, I’m
supposed to set a good example.” “And I’m your coach: have a little taste of this.
It’s good.” He’s generous in that part of his life as well. He enjoys life, and that
helps us no end. Out of all the locker room management techniques I’ve
witnessed, his is definitely the least problematic. He holds in all his own worries
and pressures, and so the team preserves its tranquility. And goes on to win. And
win some more. And keep on winning. From time to time, though, even the most
patient man in the world blows his cool. 

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