It was a Tuscan summer in the middle of the 1980s and I was busy falling in unrequited love with every passing girl who bought a Lemon Soda in the local bar. The days were long and warm, the food was good and school in Scotland seemed a million miles away. All it needed was a sprinkle of Serie A super stardom and, incredibly, that was what it got.
My family’s hometown is close to a big holiday complex – Il Ciocco – where some of Italy and the UK’s top sides have come to do their ritiro – pre-season training. It was up there that we drove in the hope of catching a glimpse of Sampdoria’s two top stranieri – Graeme Souness and Trevor Francis. It says much about the simpler times that we were able not only to see them but have a chat and get a picture. I am caught there, forever, as a shy teenager between two giants of the game.
It is a long time ago, of course, but my memory is that they could not have been nicer. They took the time out for all the Scottish Italians who had come to see them, even though they had just finished a training session. As someone obsessed with Italian football, this was the icing on the cake of my holidays.
There on a Tuscan hillside, something special was happening as Samp put together a team which would win its first major trophy – a Coppa Italia – and then on toward bigger and better things in years to come. Souness and Francis were part of that – the Englishman, in particular, played four years with the Genoese side. He clearly enjoyed his time in Italy and always seemed to speak of the country with fondness – not always the case of British exports to Serie A.
So, it was with sadness that I read that he had passed away, with a pang of nostalgia for a time that has long since gone. This was a golden age for Italian football in general and the start of a special time for the Blucerchiati in particular and Trevor Francis was very much a part of that over five seasons – the last of them with Atalanta. For me, though, he will always be the guy with a record-breaking price tag attached who made time to speak to a quiet young Italian-Scot who was – and still is – besotted with the beautiful game. Quietly spoken, unassuming and considerate – he made sure my encounter with two class acts of Calcio was one I still look back on with great fondness.
Addio campione.