I Think Therefore I Play by Andrea Pirlo, Alessandro Alciato Page A

and he’d also compare the team’s success with the flourishing of his companies. We’d hear him talk about creating a million jobs. Minus one: mine. Every so often, he’d update us on the stats, which proved somewhat different to those of our friend Huntelaar.
    Huntelaar…
    If he saw that you were interested, he’d go into detail on a topic, like you’d see him do on Bruno Vespa’s TV show. 29 And then, out of the corner of his eye, he’d spy that Ancelotti was about to walk past and suddenly he’d break off. “Carlo, son, remember that I want to see the team play with two strikers.”
    How could he forget? He’d heard it a billion times. He and everyone else.
    “Another thing, Carlo. We need to own the pitch and boss the game. In Italy, in Europe, throughout the world.”
    They’d debate tactics, but the final decision always lay with the coach. If you’ll pardon my French, Ancelotti had massive balls. A big guy with a big personality.
    He and Berlusconi had a few differences of opinion, in particular towards the end of Carlo’s time at Milan, but theirs is an enduring, mutual affection. The same can’t be said of certain other coaches, for example the Turk Fatih Terim, whom Ancelotti ended up replacing. He was a remarkable person, a really strange fellow who seemed allergic to rules. It was obvious from an early stage that he wouldn’t last long and sure enough he was fired.
    Before Milan, he’d been with smaller, less stately clubs who’d allowed him to do as he pleased. The environment was different at Milan. He’d arrive late for lunch, turn up for official engagements without a tie, run off and leave Mr Bic on his own at the table just so he could watch Big Brother. You’d see him walking around Milanello with garishly loud clothes, looking like John Travolta.
    He had this mad translator, practically his shadow, who at one point advised him to cut off relations with the media. Indefinitely. At Milan. The club where communication is always par excellence .
    The translator also had a few problems getting across Terim’s message to those of us in the dressing room. The coach would be gesticulating and talking away in Turkish: “Boys, we’re about to play one of the most important matches of the season. Lots of people are criticising us, but I believe in you. We can’t give up now. There are great expectations upon us, and we’ve a moral obligation not to disappoint. Let’s do it for ourselves, for the club, for the president, for the fans. There are moments in life when a man has to lift his head. I believe that moment has arrived for us. Go on, boys. Go on .”
    The translator, standing there quite motionless, would then say in Italian: “Juventus are coming tomorrow. We need to win.” One of them spoke for five minutes, the other for five seconds.
    Terim: “Andrea, you’ll be the focal point for our game. You direct our play, but take your time and don’t force it. Weigh up the situation and give the ball to the team-mate who has the fewest opponents around him. We’re relying on you: you’re absolutely fundamental for this team and the way we want to play. But I’ll say it again: don’t force it. Calm and cool are the watchwords here. First think, then pass: that’s the only way we’ll get the right result and show the whole of Italy we’re still alive. That we won’t go down without a fight. Right, now, everyone out on the pitch. Let’s see an amazing session with real intensity. I want it to be right up there with the best we’ve had this year.”
    The translator: “Pirlo pass the ball. And now let’s go and train.”
    Some of the team meetings, especially in the early days, were absolutely unforgettable. Terim would stand in front of the tactics board, take out a piece of chalk and draw 11 circles. Each circle represented a player, but it got to the point that there were so many notes and scribbles, you couldn’t tell which circles were the defenders, which the