04 June 2020
Lucca
A footballing history
by Philip Throp
Lucca is our beautiful Italian twin town. It’s in Tuscany, about 30km northeast of Pisa, and 35km by road east of Viareggio, a Mediterranean seaside resort very popular with Italians. Whenever I read a book about Italy, I always look for any references to Lucca.
My most recent read is “Calcio—a History of Italian Football”. It’s by a certain John Foot, (?!) On receipt of the paperback, I found it a learned work, over 600 pages, including annotated references, a 43 page glossary, and a 20 page index.
It is maniacal in its efforts at completeness, feels like somebody’s PhD submission. In all this encyclopaedic tome there are only 3 references to Lucca, but they are fascinating.
The Football Stadium
This will be familiar to all visitors who have walked the circuit of the walls. It is right under the city wall, near the Porta Elisa. Those who have taken the excellent courses at the Italian Language School know this point well; it’s the cafe and eatery where one goes for the mid-morning cappuccino break and sunny shady lunches. The stadium’s claim to fame is that of the many football stadia built in the Modernist style during the Fascist regime, only three survive in close to their original form; Bologna, Florence and Lucca.
More than in any other Western European country, in Italy the Fascists took a special interest in football, seeking to harness its popularity for their political ends. Mussolini liked the game and was a frequent visitor to league matches. One of the effects of this was that some teams had to “Italianise” their names. Some clubs had initially been formed by English influence and retained this in their names, for example the team called “Genoa” before and after the Fascist times had to change to the Italian name of their city (in this case “Genova”). Ironic in that case because the official name of the Genoa club before Mussolini’s edict was “Genoa CRICKET and Football Club”. Particularly unacceptable to the regime was Inter Milan, “Inter” being short for Internazionale which just happens to be the rallying hymn of Communism. “Persuaded” to change their name to Ambrosiana!
Lucca’s Claims to Fame
Lucca (2017 population 88000) was put on the map at the beginning of the 20th century by the fame of Puccini, born in the city, its cathedral organist, and resident in Lucca for most of his adult life. Unspoilt, it’s a beautiful medieval walled town, the streets so narrow they are inaccessible to all but the most necessary of motor vehicles, and almost all the shops and dwellings in original medieval buildings. Walking through it in the morning with few people about before the shops open, is an absolute haven of peace and tranquillity, the tinkling fountains, the birds singing, an absolute gem.
But Lucca was a protagonist in one of the most momentous stories of Italian football violence, and the first football-related death in Italy.
The year is 1920, second year of the two years of revolutionary conflict in Italy after the end of the Great War. The town of Viareggio, Lucca’s near neighbour, was a particularly “red” town during this conflict. Lucca and Viareggio’s soccer teams are in the same league, due to play each other home and away in each season. In April 1920 the first match between them is in Lucca, won by Lucca 2-0, and the travelling Viareggio fans are treated with “hostility and violence”.
So much for Lucca hospitality!
For the return match in Viareggio, planned for May, the Lucca club advise their fans to stay at home. Only a tiny number travel to Viareggio. They are due for a difficult journey back.
Amazingly, (to me) the referee allocated for the match is from Lucca. To “balance things up” (sic), one of his two assistants, the linesman, is a 1914-18 war hero from Viareggio, Signor Morganti.
Towards the end of the game Lucca draw level from a 0-2 deficit, which incurs the ire of the locals. (Subsequent reports say the referee “failed to appear impartial”). I’ll remember that one for the next time my team is losing at home—–” Referee, you’re failing to appear impartial.”
Soon after Lucca equalise, an argument erupts between the linesman and a Lucca player. The referee decides to end the game early; the linesman pointedly disagrees. Whilst the officials argue, the players start brawling to settle old scores. The crowd invade the pitch and join in. The few carabinieri eventually manage to rescue the Lucca players and push the crowd into the street.
Reinforcements are sent from the nearby military police station. One of the carabinieri loses control and shoots the linesman, Morganti, in the neck, immediately killing him. The crowd push the police back to the police station and lay siege to it, demanding the assassin be delivered to them. They cut off the railway lines into and out of this important national railway junction. To return home, Lucca fans have to walk over 20 km to the next station beyond the blocked lines. Telephone and electricity lines are cut off by the protesters, who erect barricades all over the city.
The city of Viareggio is out of control for two whole days. It takes more than 200 military to re-assert authority, one contingent being forced to arrive by sea!
And that is not the end of the story.
Two seasons later, Viareggio win the first match, at home. Lucca fans are angry, believing their team have lost due to the intimidating atmosphere in the Viareggio stadium, referencing back to the riots. The return match in Lucca, who win 2-0, is extremely tense. Despite being escorted back by police to the railway station after the match, Viareggio fans run a rampage of destruction through Lucca en route.
A recent Italian TV documentary marked the 100th anniversary of this, Italy’s first football-related death, as the match at Viareggio took place on May 2nd 1920. In the late 60’s there was a radio programme in which some of the players from the match told their personal stories. One of the Lucca players was Giovanni (“Johnny”) Moscardini, the first player born outside Italy to play for the Italian national team. Giovanni Moscardini, born in Falkirk, home of East Stirlingshire the subject of Jeff Connor’s Pointless.
Lucca’s most successful manager ever
The Lucca club’s heyday was probably in the thirties, thanks to the guidance of a Hungarian manager Egri Erbstein, who brought them from the third division of the Italian leagues to the first division in just five years. But there was a problem. Although Erbstein and his wife and daughter were all baptised Catholics, the anti-Semite laws classified him as of Jewish origin. Seeing the writing on the wall, he fled Italy before finishing up in a German concentration camp, which he survived, returning to Italy to manage Torino, “il grande Torino” probably the most consistently successful team the Italian First Division has ever seen. In 1949, under his management, they were about to win their fifth consecutive Italian Championship. They had won their last 18 games home and away, and had not lost at home for ninety-three games, when they travelled to Lisbon in May 1949 for a friendly match.
Outside Italy we know nothing of the tragedy, one of the greatest teams of all time, a club with little success before Erbstein, a team that perished in May 1949, a club that has never recovered.
An air crash was even more devastating for the club than Manchester United’s Munich air disaster in 1958. There is a hill outside Turin named Superga, topped by a basilica. Turin airport is noted for fog and mist. The team’s approach in late afternoon was dogged by poor visibility and heavy rain. The Fiat plane hit the hill just behind the basilica, killing all 31 occupants. The complete “il grande Torino” team wiped out at a stroke.
Together with their inspirational coach, Egri Erbstein, Lucca football club’s most successful manager.
