From the Curva to the Coast… How Italians Remember the 1990 World Cup

There is a specific kind of nostalgia reserved for the summer of 1990. Italy was on a global stage – the stadiums were futuristic, Serie A was the undisputed home of the world’s best players, and Gianna Nannini and Edoardo Bennato provided the ultimate soundtrack with Un’Estate Italiana.

But away from the television broadcasts, what was it actually like to live through those weeks in Italy? For the people who were there, the memories are a mix of intense local pride, personal milestones, and the sharp sting of a penalty shootout that halted a nationwide party.

Embedded with the English

For Fabio Bottonelli, a young journalist based in Bologna, the tournament provided the breakthrough moment of his career. While he watched Italy’s matches on television as a passionate fan, his professional focus was drawn to a fixture in his hometown – England vs Belgium in the last 16.

At the time, the reputation of English football fans preceded them, and local authorities in Bologna were on high alert, following trouble in Rimini ahead of the game. Fabio saw an opportunity.

“I read some books about hooliganism in England, I followed British football, as a boy in the late seventies I went to England every summer, and I attended a few games. During that period, British fans at away games were considered an issue across Europe. So, people and authorities were on alert about the invasion of England supporters in Bologna, my hometown.

“I had this idea the day before the game; I submitted it to the editor-in-chief,” Fabio recalls. “Can I be your embedded journalist on the terrace, in the curva of England fans? Who are they? What do they say? What do the chants say? Are they so bad?”

The editor agreed and sent him into the lions’ den at the magnificent Stadio Renato Dall’Ara. It was a world away from the modern press box experience. After David Platt’s famous 119th-minute volley won the game for England, Fabio had to sprint to find a working public telephone to file his copy before the paper went to print.

“I literally dictated the article ‘live’,” he explained. His story shared how the English fans were in great spirits, waving flags and enjoying the game and that the ultras in Trieste and Monza were much scarier – “If these are the hooligans, what a disappointment, or rather what a relief”.

“On the following morning I found out that my story was published on the front page, for the first time! Imagine how proud I was.”

For Fabio, the atmosphere of the entire summer was unmatched. “Italia 90 with Italy as a host country was something incredibly exciting,” he said. “The vibe around the country, the pride, the new stadiums.”

Looking at the current climate of Italian football, the contrast is stark. “Nothing to be compared with the present status: Italy has been out of the World Cup for three editions! Everybody is depressed and angry.”

Life, Loss, and Toto Schillaci

Further north in Como, Katia Domenichini was experiencing the tournament through a much more personal lens. The summer of 1990 was a chaotic, emotional time; her mother had recently passed away, and she was juggling life with two daughters aged three and four.

“Naturally, partly because of work and partly because of my daughters, I watched the matches on TV,” she says. “At the time, I was working downtown in Como, right in the main square, at an architecture firm.”

Fortunately, the football-mad culture of the country worked in her favour. “My boss was a fan, so every time Italy played, he would let us leave early, or I even remember him letting us stay home.”

While the tournament dominated daily life, Katia remembers looking at the squad with a slightly critical eye, unconvinced they matched the heights of previous eras. “Let’s just say they didn’t thrill me all that much,” she admits. “Except for Schillaci, who really seemed like an extraterrestrial.”

Like Fabio, Katia notices how much the game’s culture has shifted over the last few decades. “In 1990, fandom was different – more passionate, less controlled,” she reflects. “As for the national team, let’s just say my generation was lucky; I saw two national teams become world champions, in 1982 and 2006. Kids today don’t even get to see the national team at the World Cup. It’s a real shame.”

Memories from Sicily

Down in the south, the perspective was slightly different. Salvatore – known to his friends as Turi – spent that famous summer away from the bustling city centres, taking his holidays by the coast.

“I was on holiday at the seaside, in a little house I had in the province of Palermo,” Turi explained.

From his coastal vantage point, the sheer scale of the national obsession was impossible to ignore. For him, the modern game cannot replicate the collective energy of that summer.

“There was a level of involvement and passion that was at least 10 times higher than it is today,” he says. “There was so much support, and a lot of confidence that we could actually win the competition.”

The Roulette of the Semi-Final

That confidence came crashing down in the semi-finals, when Italy were knocked out on penalties by Argentina after a tense 1-1 draw.

The next morning, a strange mood blanketed the country. It wasn’t a scene of anger or riots, but rather a shared disappointment. “It was collective grief,” Fabio says. “Nevertheless, we felt proud. After all, Italy played well. We lost with honour.”

Turi recalls a similar feeling of shared sorrow spreading across Sicily. “I felt the collective pain and disappointment of the nation when Italy was eliminated,” he recalls.

For Katia, who had been balancing grief and motherhood throughout the tournament, the exit was taken in stride. “Getting eliminated on penalties is never pleasant… but then again, penalties are a roulette,” she said.

While the dream of winning the World Cup on home soil was over, the tournament had already secured its legacy. It was the summer Roberto Baggio announced himself to the world, most notably with his solo wonder-goal against Czechoslovakia in the group stage. Though the Notti Magiche would ultimately belong to West Germany, goals from Baggio and Schillaci in the third-place play-off win over England in Bari at least offered a small consolation, ensuring the hosts went out with their heads held high.

Italia 90 remains a bittersweet memory. It was a summer of missed opportunities on the pitch. But off it, it captured a vibrant, passionate country at the absolute peak of its footballing powers – a feeling that Italians are eager to relive as soon as possible.