FABRIZIO GHILARDI

I fell in love with Subbuteo in 1974 at the age of seven.
It was a blind, total love for all time. A classic case of love at first sight.
To be honest, I had already experienced the same love for the blue and white colours of Lazio.
So, 1974 was for me the year of Love, certainly not the year of divorce.
The maximum for a child of seven years of age - fall in love with Subbuteo the same year that his favourite team become the Italian Champions.
It meant loving soccer and never betraying it.
A different kind of soccer from today’s, a chivalrous soccer made up of great personages and great teams. As we used to say at the time talking about an impressive team, a “great team”.

A pity that to have my first team I had to wait nearly a year and a pity especially that my first  Subbuteo team wasn’t Lazio. Through an unfortunate stroke of fate “that day” it was sold out. A good sign, I told myself, in accepting a higher Destiny. It meant that other kids were looking for the same thing that I was. After much thought among the hundreds of teams on sale in the shop (that had a really enticing name, “Casa Mia” (My Home)), who knows why, I chose a team from the provinces, of the type that you would love only if you came from that area - Lanerossi Vicenza. But through another twist of the same fate, the shop assistant, who certainly didn’t have the football expertise of  a Paolo Valenti, handed me a shining less classical version of Lanerossi - a version with wonderful black shorts.  
Love had blossomed and when at seven years of age the concept of ownership makes its appearance in the world of adults, those who defend and contest ownership, you aren’t too fussy.  It’s as if there is a layer of glue on a child’s hands and it is hard to remove the objects that those hands hold with trembling skill.
And that’s how I took my first Subbuteo team home.

It was only when I got home that my brother – three years younger than me but much more attentive to detail – showed me that in the album of the Sacred Panini Stickers the team uniform of the Venetians was white and red striped jerseys and white shorts. But why hadn’t he spoken sooner! With the same steadfastness that had made me choose a small team of the Italian provinces, still pretty far from the brief glories that would have brought it to the limelight of great national soccer just a few years later, I fell hopelessly in love with that strange version of it. The Subbuteo catalogue showed it as Southampton, an English team that I knew nothing about at the time. But this was enough to make me swear eternal love to Southampton. And it was with this English team that I fell in love with what was Football with a capital F: English Football.  The football of the fathers, of the founders, of the apostles.

In the year 2005 I celebrated, obviously privately, thirty years of love for Subbuteo. And for played football, or better still “played” exactly in its value of a past participle.
Maybe because soccer was a childhood passion; maybe because the football jerseys were better and always the same just like those hand-painted ones of the Subbuteo figures, instead of changing every season for the benefit of the sponsors that didn’t exist then; maybe because soccer really had another flavour; maybe because when a player scored he hugged his other team mates and didn’t run away not to be touched as if he didn’t want to share his joy with the others or he didn’t put on a previously thought-up strange act to be innovatory in his celebration; maybe because the players had more credible names and faces to appear in albums and on almanacs; maybe because I’m an incurable romantic of Sunday afternoons.
And of Subbuteo.

When we decided to dedicate a day and a photographic exhibition to Subbuteo (a game invented in England, that distant nation, that strange island of the north of Europe where Southampton played) a smile got printed on my face that was the same child’s smile with which I purchased hundreds of teams with my grandfather and my brother. The same smile that I have as I write.
When speaking with the Institutions that have supported us and whom I sincerely thank, we focussed our attention on how educational Subbuteo was for a number of generations, from 1947 to the present day. An totally unchangeable symbol of British Fair Play just like its birth and progeny.
But we have omitted the number of arguments and fights it caused between children and young people. We remember them now. They were sincere arguments, as chivalrous as the football that we love, often irreconcilable with the amount of time necessary for laughing about them. Friendships and family ties broken and mended in the time needed to eat a good slice of bread and oil (for the more greedy of bread and sugar and for my brother both) and to want to play again. A bit like having a fist-fight with the same style with which people duelled in the past, leaving the rival, the challenged party, or the weakest, the honour of the first blow.
This was Subbuteo for so many young people that by now are not so young anymore.

Altogether, a magical world made up of on the one hand fair play and on the other indisputable reasons for sparking off hate and threats....
For example, the rules were one of the greatest reasons for friction between the players of Football in miniature. And for discrimination. I remember unbelievable rules, the result of a free interpretation that resulted in heresy. The few who read the little book with the real rules had the same value in our eyes that the Fathers of the Church had for Christianity. And the convinced heretics, that were difficult to flush out and condemn to the stake, were considered by us to be on a par with the most hardened Lutherans. Followers of their own church that had nothing in common with the True Church of Subbuteo, that of Our Father Peter Adolph. Who as well as being man unfortunately was not also God and did not transfer his earthly powers and sacred bonds to descendants elected by traditio legis.

This meant movements of Subbuteisti that preserved, extended, repudiated, revisited and corrected the message of the old Subbuteo. Looking for ommunities of fans of the game on Internet, I found quite an extraordinary number. And again, like used to happen when we were children when we fought with one another, each one against the other. And boy do they fight! With the same zeal and stubbornness that we had as children. There are those who refer to the purity of the game and still organize tournaments with the teams produced up to the Seventies and then there are those who have invented table soccer and its federations; there are those who preserve and those who renew. Valiant defenders of Tradition propose their reasons against the progressives who counter with their Ancien Regime type truths.
There is really something for everyone. And all who in the name of Subbuteo invoke blessings on their own hosts and curses on the disciples of the Satanic adversary.
It will be hard to see them united under a single ecumenical flag, but it would be good to see them united – having laid down their arms – on the occasion of an event dedicated to the game that everyone loves and which inspires them.

Without having to enter the intricacies of such a serious problem, Action Now – Play old style and the undersigned feel they must demonstrate their absolute loyalty to an immortal game, by celebrating its golden years, like a good ancient time as described by Dante and like a Golden Age that, before the many trials of Kali Yuga, will make us feel closer to our Fathers. And to my grandfather who has passed away but to whom with gratitude I dedicate our exhibition.

Charlotta Smeds, who knows Subbuteo really well, decided to dedicate her shots to some pieces that she herself chose and which form part of a small private collection. A collection of sweet memories and images.
It is not a question of following the history of Subbuteo or of illustrating some of its pieces, but one of narrating the sentiments and indelible images that we hold in our hearts through the eye of a great Swedish photographer.
She has managed all this with great technical ability and passion.

                                                           INTERVIEW WITH CHARLOTTA SMEDS

Charlotta Smeds, Swedish. Since 1991 in Italy, in Rome. A lifetime. A job as a photographer and above all as a journalist.  A book recently published in Sweden dedicated to Rome.

By now I’m more up to date on things in Italy rather than those in Sweden. Even if the fact that I work in Vatican Radio, on the Scandinavian programme, keeps me very up to date on what is happening in my country. Luckily. The book is a gesture of love towards the city that I feel as my own. I feel very Roman. I would like to be Anna Magnani. Falling in love with Rome was the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me together with my little girls

A year ago, just around this time, your wonderful photographic exhibition ‘Flick about’ dedicated to Subbuteo was inaugurated. Will you tell us bout it?
The idea was yours but unlike many other ideas of yours, I was immediately captured by this one. You allowed me to use a small part of your private collection of Subbuteo pieces, you were very jealous, you were afraid that I would do something disastrous. The purpose of an exhibition and of an event dedicated to Subbuteo was to talk about a type of football that is disappearing, that rather than a social phenomenon and a sport  is a series of matches and championships and anxiety that gives results and performances. I mean football ones. I discovered Subbuteo in Italy; it was never as famous in Sweden as is England, Italy and other European countries. It is a great game. How many times I thought of breaking all your players. And those of your brother too.

What inspired your exhibition?

The great inspiration really came from the numerous games that I suffered in many years in Italy.  Suffered in the real sense of the word. But I don’t really have to say this in the interview, true? However I used to laugh to see you boys (who in the meantime were becoming young men, men and then even fathers) play and really argue while you were playing endless Subbuteo matches.  Infinite matches, tournaments, championships. And actually I was struck by the simplicity with which friendships were created just by playing  Subbuteo. And then the idea that Subbuteo could transmit its healthy moral values to young people – I am thinking for example about the idea of Fair Play, I thought it was a very interesting challenge.

Why do you speak of a challenge?

Because I know Italian society and the world of the stadiums pretty well. Young people are pretty well abandoned by the State and schools, not to mention their families, and they find an easy outlet for their insecurity and need to rebel during football games. It is a pity however because this is healthy strength that could be put to much better use. These are young people that are fed up with the boring life that is offered them without much care. I think that Subbuteo represents a real chance for young people to understand that there are other worlds that are possible apart from the one they know. Subbuteo is getting together, it is friendship, it is loyalty. Subbuteo is for Ultras. Not the isolation of Playstation and television. That’s why the exhibition is a challenge.

Is the exhibition successful? I actually know but I would like to hear it from you.

Great. Fantastic. It’s a pity that the institutions invest so little in this kind of thing. They get lost in their chit-chat, decrees and special laws, it’s so much easier. But no one comes down onto the street, to the level of the problem. It is easy to pontificate from the comfortable armchairs of Parliaments and Federations. We need a figure like St Francis, someone who was not afraid to dirty his hands and talk to the wolf. I am thinking about St Philip Neri who was on the streets fighting hunger with his young people, or Don Bosco when he had the children of his first oratories playing football. There are no Councillors or Mayors in the Institutions that are really listening to the people. The only one who has really made a mark on me is the Mayor of Verona. He decided to bring the exhibition to his city. Someone who said that if they forbid the away matches, for the love of Verona he will still do them. Good for him! And the council of Turin also showed that it was very interested. Can I say it?  Councillor Montabone. Perhaps because when he was young he played with the Toro (Torino football team)  It isn’t a question of politics. It is a question of devotion to the social, not everyone has it.  For example, very little comes from the football businesses, who are much more interested in how they can swell their budgets than in helping young people to grow.

You were saying about Verona and Turin.

Yes, they are the next venues for the exhibition. First Turin in January, then Verona in the spring. I know that you have begun talks with Catania but without much success apart from a lot of chat; it looks as if for the Feast of St Agatha, the exhibition is likely to travel to Sicily, a region that would really need these kinds of exhibitions but that is a prisoner of too many other affairs.
We are also negotiating with Arsenal FC to bring the exhibition to the Emirates Stadium of London and with Birmingham FC. But the English are much more ahead, you know, and you asked me to remember this in the interview.

PLet’s talk about your photos.
I tried to tell about what struck me most about this game. The players of the ‘70s in miniature are the nicest and are the ones that I tried to portray. In many close-ups I imagined them as if they were real players in action, I tried to get the expression on their faces. The jerseys of the miniatures are really lovely, nothing like today’s jerseys, I mean from an aesthetic viewpoint. The blown-up photographs are incredible. I sold lots of them, especially to the great supporters of English football. Mark Adolph, the son of Subbuteo’s inventor, liked those of the QPR.

An idea of prices?

Around three hundred euro, some of them four hundred. Then there are smaller versions, that are not on exhibit at the moment – they cost around a hundred euro, it depends. The biggest ones are however the best, they are the ones I prefer. I like those of Southampton, the jerseys have vertical white and red strips and they have black shorts, right? The horizontal striped socks are fabulous.  And then I like Torino.

Do you like football?

To be honest what is played today not much. I prefer the passion that the supporters have for their team. Once while we were listening to  “You’ll never walk alone” by Gerry and the Pacemakers you had such a dreamy look that I asked you: “What are you thinking about?”. And you replied: “About the Kop of Liverpool when he was singing at the Olympic stadium in Rome at the final against AS Roma”. That’s love. That’s the football I like. It makes me laugh.

Are you a supporter?

To be honest, no. The first time I went out to a stadium was in 1991 in Verona, with you, for a Verona-Milan match. It was like a battle. Police in anti-riot outfits everywhere. The Milan supporters marching. Perhaps one of the reasons I like Verona somewhat is because it has the colours of my Swedish flag. In Sweden I saw a game in Norrköping between IFK Norrköping and  Torino. Do you remember? We were together. The home team won 1-0. It was raining and cold.  The Torino supporters sang more than the Swedes. In the Norrköping terrace you alone were  supporting the Toro. We were dressed the same, we both had green parka and adidas football shoes.  The Swedes didn’t give you a glance. The Torino goalkeeper (Marchegiani ndr),on the other hand, looked over every so often because he could hear someone calling him speaking Italian. It was you who was hanging out of the net that separates the pitch from the stands. When you shouted  “Pasquale you’re a lion” a Torino player (Pasquale Bruno) also greeted you. I wonder if the players remember that game. You do, don’t you?

Definitely. I used to like wandering around Europe to see the football games and to talk to the supporters.  Even at forty, I still wander around Europe and I still meet supporters. Another few questions, I like interviewing you. Lazio or Roma?

Neither. Roma certainly not, perhaps Lazio is better, but I had to live with it for a number of years, it was a rival. Now, that’s enough with the interview I must follow the Angelus. Otherwise how can I translate it into Swedish?