Some figures have left deep footprints in Calcio’s clay while others only flit across the surface. Even his closest family would probably never clamour to see Anselmo Robbiati’s name feature in any Italian football hall of fame. But, for one golden spell, he was one of the best players to watch at Fiorentina in a side where the competition for that accolade was pretty tough.
It was all achieved with a pencil-thin physique that looked like it could be snapped at any time by the rugged school bullies who patrolled Serie A’s defences at the time. He barely looked strong enough to power up a shot which would do anything other than trundle through to the goalie. And yet, in the 1996/97 campaign, he came within a whisker of outscoring a guy you may possibly have heard of – Gabriel Omar Batistuta.
The boy from Lecco near Como was signed up by the Viola to boost their bid to secure a bounce back promotion having been relegated from Serie A in 1993 with a side which was “too good to go down”. He had grabbed their attention at Monza where he picked up the nickname of Spadino – the Italian name for a character he resembled in the hit TV show of the time Happy Days. It was enough for Fiorentina to give him a big Fonzie thumbs-up.
He played plenty in that successful Serie B season and at the start of the Tuscan side’s return to Serie A but fell out of favour as he failed to find the net in a single game. It looked as if he might be one of those players who could make a difference in the second tier but struggled at the very top. It would not be until 1995/96 that he would start to convince Claudio Ranieri that he deserved a slot in a side which already featured the attacking talents of Batistuta, Rui Costa and Ciccio Baiano.
He played his part in a fourth place finish and a Coppa Italia victory and began to look much more at home at the top table of Italian football. It would be the following year, though, that he really hit the heights of his influence with jinking runs, mazy dribbles and the odd ferocious free-kick. And all of it achieved with his Fiorentina shirt flapping loosely in the breeze like a schoolboy playing in his big brother’s kit.
The season which probably marked his finest hour began with that rarest of commodities in Florence – a trophy win. He was part of the team which saw off Milan to win the Italian Super Cup, although only for a few minutes, but it was onwards and upwards from there. He was never truly guaranteed an entire game but his increasingly large cameo performances became a joy to behold.
His first Serie A goal of the season was a joy to behold – starting against Verona ahead of an injured Baiano. He thumped in a lovely left-footed drive which gave Attilio Gregori little chance. “Things went well for me today, I managed to score a great goal after six minutes, it helped to settle our nerves,” he told Rai reporters in a voice which sounded about a decade younger than his 26 years at the time.
Better was to come when Milan visited Florence and he fulfilled his supersub role. Thrown on after Stefano Eranio saw red for the visitors, he was quick to react to prod home after Sebastiano Rossi parried out a shot. It was the game’s only goal and sent a packed stadium home happy.
It would not be the only time he put a smile on the face of the Stadio Artemio Franchi as he scored the vast majority of his goals that season in front of his own supporters. Of his 11 league strikes, only a couple were scored on the road which only cemented his cult status among the Viola faithful. In a team packed with star performers, he carved out his own niche as an unpredictable talent with a happy knack of helping to resolve tricky ties. If Batistuta and Rui Costa failed to unlock a defence, they could always send Robbiati sneaking up a drainpipe and in through an air-conditioning vent.
In truth, even a quarter century or so ago he already felt like a throwback to a bygone age of football. Despite many desperate attempts to feed him up, he never managed to tip the scales much more than a bag of feathers. In these days of gym sessions, protein shakes and upper body strength he would probably only find a place in a place as a human barbell to attach weights to at either end of his body. The closest he got to a six-pack, you felt, was picking up the mineral water for his family in their weekly shop.
That’s what made him so watchable, though. He seemed too fragile and frail for what was arguably the top league in the world at the time and yet week after week he proved to be a matchwinner. He looked like he had come straight off the playground and into the first team and played with a glorious disregard for the peril he was putting his limbs at week-in, week-out. If Batistuta terrorised defences with his physical prowess, Robbiati pinged them on the back of the head with a projectile from the catapult he kept in his back pocket. Here was a hero for the press-up averse amongst us. There would never be any need for Zdenek Zeman to cast aspersions about his physique.
Among the other highlights of his season was scoring the equaliser in a 1-1 draw with Juventus and then the winner in a see-saw 3-2 triumph over Bologna.
The curling left-foot free kick in that Derby of the Appenines victory sent his president, Vittorio Cecchi Gori, leaping with delight. He also played the full 90 minutes in both games of his team’s ill-fated two legged Cup Winners’ Cup semi-final with Barcelona. It would probably be the pinnacle of his time in the game.
He stayed until the end of the 1990s and moved on to Napoli, Inter, Perugia and a brief loan spell back at Fiorentina. After that he drifted down the leagues but kept playing until he was almost 40 with little Tuscan side Figline. He is currently studying at the Italian football federation’s Coverciano complex for his qualification to run the club’s youth section. He should certainly have plenty of little nuggets of knowledge to pass on.
Robbiati may not have enjoyed consistent success but he scaled heights in the sport that many would only dream of. His role as a game changer, particularly in his most special season, was undisputed. He may have got fed up of being subbed on or subbed off but for spectators he was a virtual guarantee of entertainment. Socks down, spindly legs and looking like a strong puff of wind might blow him over, his memory still fills Viola fans with the same gentle warmth as a mellow Brunello. In a pack filled with kings and aces, what a joker he was – regularly proving to be the winning card. He may not have ever earned legendary status but every club needs its own Spadino Robbiati. Heaven knows, they could do with someone like him now in Florence.
Giancarlo Rinaldi is the co-host of the weekly calcio show, Rigore! This podcast takes an irreverent look at the world of Italian football (taking a pot shot or two at its traditional giants along the way!)