From Vesuvius with Lava
True fire out of Napoli
My forays into sportswriting are vanishingly rare: in fact, they’ve been non-existent until now.
And while it’s questionable that a fan piece like this one really fits the Seeds from the World Tree bill given my rather high-minded focus on wisdom traditions, I’m going to stretch my criteria on this one. Not just because there’s no one else brandishing an editorial blade around here (ha!), but because what’s happening with Napoli is so extraordinary, it deserves all the press it can get. Besides, we may find there’s some who can’t use more of that.
The headline, which by now has been picked up and circulated even among the Italian football-disinterested American press, is this: Napoli are winning. A lot. With nearly a third of the season still to go, the Partenopei1 appear to have the Serie A league title all but wrapped up—meaning that to lose it now would take a collapse even more spectacular than their breakthrough season to date has been. At the same time they’re making a power play in Europe’s top-tier Champions League, already breaking a club record by advancing to the quarterfinals. Out of 27 league games, they’ve lost two, drawn two, and won 23. So Napoli fans may well be justified in suggesting they might just be the best team in Europe right now.
Okay, but why should anyone who’s not already a fan care? I won’t lie, I do hope to convert a new tifoso or two to the cause. But what matters is the incredible underdog story; the sheer majesty of a team casting off its veil to assume the crown; the visionary manager finally making good on his potential. And the attitude that makes this all possible.
Because, mind you, we’re not talking about a Milan team, a Madrid team or a top Premier League club, i.e. a well-watered franchise used to big prizes. The sort of team who may be ruthlessly effective, but whose team culture tends to be toxic. Ugly. (It’s hard not to cough and point at Juventus, but that would be cheap shot after their latest financial scandal.) No, we’re talking about a beleaguered squad from a much-maligned, gritty southern city that had a taste of glory three decades ago2 and has never given up dreaming; a team with massive heart and more than its share of heartbreak; yet a team that finally has the goods to make good and the winds of destiny filling her sails.
There is simply a magic about this team. They are, as the commentators like to point out, the sort of team that makes you fall in love with football (soccer) in the first place. This has everything to do with the way they play, but it starts, as it must, with the club culture. I don’t know what goes on in the dressing room, but on the pitch the players just have the right attitude. They’re unselfish and supportive, celebrating each other’s goals even though an abundance of talent this season means that they’re vying for starting line-up spots. A perfect example is Giovanni Simeone, a first-rate striker who mostly warms the bench, yet who plays his heart out when put in for 10 minutes at the end of a match, often scoring, always wearing a huge smile. As he’s stated, he’s thrilled to be playing for this team at this moment, helping make history, as manager Luciano Spalletti puts it, “per lei, per la città” (for her, for the city of Naples).
Onto the fun part, Napoli’s game.
Let’s start with what it isn’t: the stodgy, defensive “catenaccio” style the Italian leagues became known for decades back. This Napoli is the antithesis of that. That’s to say, they’ve developed a free-flowing and relentlessly attacking style, a classic ‘beautiful game’ executed with contagious joy and inimitable style, which also happens to be lethal. And did I mention beautiful?
There are stars, yes, and we’ll get to them in a minute. But even with standout players like Osimhen and Kvara, Napoli are notable for playing like a true team, unified in purpose, pulling together in a timeless display of athletic excellence worthy of ancient Greece (or the 90’s Chicago Bulls). At their best, a level seen frequently this season, they are astonishingly good.
Pressing high to force turnovers.
Building out from the back with countless precise passes in tight spaces.
Staging lightning-fast counterattacks that split the defense with a perfectly thread pass between the lines.
Pulling off deadly set pieces in which even the center backs get goals.
Winning penalties thanks to the opposing defense’s fear of what a Kvara or an Osimhen can do.
Watching it all, one has the feeling of flying, a word the commentators tend to use as well. There’s something of the peak experience about it all, the moment of grace, only it’s not just one moment—it keeps happening, peak after peak punctuating the equivalent of a Himalayan range. What felt like an unsustainable dream after the midway point simply continues.
It’s not often you get to experience a miracle that lasts for six months.
Onto the players.
The Georgian, full name Khvicha Kvaratskhelia, has been nothing short of revelatory. Plucked from Eastern bloc obscurity by Napoli’s perspicacious sporting director for a mere 10 million Euro (“I’ve found a phenomenon,” reported Giuntoli back in 2021), Kvara was brought in to fill the shoes of former club captain Lorenzo Insigne. Hopes may have been high, but expectations were decidedly not for this young unknown, in what fans thought was shaping up to be, at best, a “transitional” season. That changed quickly, after Kvara scored in the first match (a 5-2 win over Hellas Verona that could easily have been 7-2) and simply didn’t stop. If he’s not scoring, he’s providing assists, often both in the same game. His hallmarks: dribbling fireworks, speed, unpredictability, including uncanny back-heel passes that seem to rely on 360 degree vision. When Napoli clinch the title, his nickname—Kvaradona—will be go from half-ironic/hopeful to immortal.
And then there’s Osimhen, the league’s top scorer, an insatiable complete athlete with the balance of a cat and a preternatural nose for goal. I could try to describe his uncanny feats, but it’s better that you watch this highlights video from 0:45 to 1:20 with the sound off, then watch it again.
Attackers always garner the most attention, but the midfield is also stellar, turning around “regista” (director/playmaker) Stanislav Lobotka, Piotr Zielinski and André-Frank Zambo Anguissa. In these three, grace, precision and intelligence combine in perfect pitch to let Napoli dominate possession, usually with upwards of 65% of the ball. Passing accuracy is absurd as well.
Equally phenomenal is the defense, build on the duo of Kim Minjae and Amir Rrahmani. Club captain Giovanni di Lorenzo, less charismatic than some of his flashier teammates, is another unsung hero who does a huge amount of work (both defensive and offensive) from his wingback position, playing all 90 minutes game in, game out.
It’s hard not to give everyone on the squad a mention, since everyone’s been playing so well, but this piece would drag on if I gave more than a quick mention of wingers Politano and Lozano, fiery Mario Rui and his more defensive-minded alternate, Oliveira; versatile super-sub Elmas and Raspadori, Ndombele, Juan Jesus and the rest.
Of the many stats one could cite, I’ll stick to just one: the team’s goal differential. In the league, this now stands at +48, meaning Napoli have scored 48 more goals than they’ve allowed. 48 more. The next best team at the moment, Lazio, is at +23.
But even statistics such as this can’t fully capture the ineffable je ne sais quoi that puts Napoli in a class of their own. The spirit of a team that no one expected much from this season, after they lost three key players during the summer transfer window and replaced them with relative unknowns Kvara and Kim. Somehow, everything came together, and something like a golden age is unfolding in real time on a city that can’t quite decide whether it’s dreaming.
Grace is involved, to be sure. But so is hard work, and at the root of all that is one man, the coach who’s lent his personality to the team. Praise is due Luciano Spalletti, a diminutive, bald Tuscan in his 60’s, to be found at all times dressed in a grey team warm-up suit (no pitch-side neckties for him) and shouting animatedly from the sidelines. A former player and longtime coaching veteran, Spalletti has never managed to clinch a Scudetto (the coveted Serie A trophy), though like Napoli he’s come very close. Perhaps it’s this tough road that’s led to his most striking trait, a deep humility.
In press conferences, he speaks softly, with good humor, in a resonant but commanding voice, reminding excitable journalists that no, he can’t very well talk about what’s going to happen five or six games down the line, because they have to play them one at a time. He refuses to let them get ahead of themselves, no matter how much expectations mount. When an interlocutor pointed out several weeks ago that it would only take a dozen more victories to secure the title, Spalletti asked calmly, rhetorically, “does that seem like a small number to you?” Watching him week in, week out, it strikes me that the man is like a river stone, smoothed by the currents until nothing sticks out where it shouldn’t. That it takes a man who has become true to lead a team to true greatness.
It’s in large part thanks to Spalletti that Napoli play with a composure beyond their years, even under the weight of a city’s deferred dream. As the fan anthem goes: “abbiamo un sogno nel cuore / Napoli torna campione.” We have a dream in our hearts / that Napoli become champions again. The only downside to this season is that the tifosi are going to have to come up with a new song.
Napoli aren’t the only Italian team to be named or nicknamed after a classical figure—see also Atalanta—but it’s still pretty great to have Homer referenced on the daily by thousands of screaming fans. Partenope, for those not quite following, is one of the sirens who tries to lure Odysseus to his doom.
Thanks of course to the legendary Maradona, who’s been elevated to the status of a saint in Napoli, where it’s certainly no exaggeration to compare soccer to religion.