—But here’s the thing: I don’t owe them an apology for being good at football. I don’t owe them an apology for being well paid. What I owe them is respect. I owe them effort, I owe them loyalty. And that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to give them since I arrived.
He continued with even more force:
—I’ve come to every training session early. I’ve stayed late practicing. I’ve tried to learn Italian so I could communicate with you. I’ve studied videos of our matches to understand how you play. And how have you repaid me? With resentment. With sabotage. With contempt.
Bruscolotti was looking at the ground now, his face red. Ferrara looked embarrassed, but Bagni still looked defiant.
“You expect us to simply accept that you’re better than us,” Bagni said, “that we’ll worship you like the fans do.”
“I don’t want to be worshipped!” Diego shouted now, his anger finally escaping. “I want to be respected. There’s a difference. Respect doesn’t mean thinking I’m perfect. Respect means recognizing that we all have value, that we all bring something to the team. You think I see you as inferior. You’re completely wrong.”
Diego pointed to Bruscolotti.
—Giuseppe, you’re the best center back I’ve seen in years. Your reading of the game is incredible. Your leadership on the field is invaluable. I need that.
Then he pointed to Ferrara.
—Ciro, you’re 20 years old and you already play like you’re 30. Your speed, your tactical intelligence… You are the future of this team.
And finally he turned towards Bagni.
—And you, Salvatore. You’re one of the most technically gifted midfielders I’ve ever played with. Your passing vision is excellent. We could be incredible together if you gave me the chance.
“So why do you need to tell us all this?” Bagni asked, but his voice had softened slightly. “Why does what we think matter?”
“Because I can’t win alone,” Diego said simply. “That’s the truth all great players eventually learn. No matter how talented you are, you can’t win championships by yourself. I’ve played on teams where I was the lone star surrounded by mediocre players. You know what we won? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
Diego looked at his companions.
—Great teams, the teams that win Scudettos, Champions Leagues, World Cups, are teams where everyone works together. Where the star makes the others shine, and the others make the star shine.
Diego sat down again, suddenly exhausted.
“I came to Naples because I wanted to win. I didn’t come for the money; Barcelona paid me well. I didn’t come for the fame; I was already famous. I came because President Ferlaino painted a vision for me. He told me we could make history here, that we could take Naples, this club that has never won anything important, to the top of Italian football. But now I see he was wrong. Not because the talent isn’t here—it is—but because we can’t function as a team if half the dressing room hates me.”
Leave a Comment