It sounds like a film script: starting with criticism and insults, before reaching a final scene that takes your breath away. Lifting the World Cup as captain makes you feel as though you are standing above the world. “But the real happiness came from sharing a glass of wine and a cigarette, on the very night of the victory, with my dear friend Gaetano Scirea.” Dino Zoff, who lifted the World Cup in 1982 as Italy’s goalkeeper and captain.
The triumph of 1982 is a unique story, born from criticism and disbelief, before becoming one of the greatest memories in Italian football history. Looking back on that journey today, how do you see it?
The triumph of 1982 is a unique story, born from criticism and disbelief, before becoming one of the greatest memories in Italian football history. Looking back on that journey today, how do you see it?
It was an extraordinary ride, a World Cup that belongs in the history books. Considering where we started, surrounded by fierce criticism and with almost no belief placed in us, what followed made the whole journey even more remarkable. But one thing is certain: that triumph came above all from our coach, Enzo Bearzot. He led the team with an extraordinary strength, yet he never received the full recognition he deserved.
You lifted that trophy as captain, the final mark of an unrepeatable career. When you finally reach the top of the world, what does a man feel, before even thinking of the athlete?
We are athletes first and foremost, accustomed to the physical demands of the game. But the highest moment, when you climb the steps of the stand and receive the Cup, is something almost impossible to describe. You feel completely fulfilled. Winning a World Cup at the end of your career, after already having won a European Championship with Italy, was an extraordinary achievement. It remains a beautiful memory, one that still returns every day in the way people remember it.
Is there a more intimate image, away from the spotlight, that captures the human side of that experience for you?
The kiss I gave Bearzot at the end of the match is certainly the image everyone remembers from the pitch. But there is another memory, deeply personal and today almost painful, that I carry with me more than any other. On the night of the final, the night we became world champions, we did not go out to celebrate with the crowds. I found myself in a hotel room with Gaetano Scirea. We enjoyed that moment of happiness in complete silence, sharing nothing more than a glass of wine and a cigarette. Looking back now, feeling the absence of a dear friend and of a player of his extraordinary stature, that moment remains suspended in time — the deepest memory of the entire World Cup.