By Ganesh Mukundan

In May 2006, Italian soccer reached its nadir when the Calciopoli (match-fixing scandal) broke out.

It was a full-blooded kick right in the solar plexus that left the entire soccer fraternity stunned and at a loss for words. Italy was in turmoil and even a World Cup victory wouldn’t assuage her disgrace and the bitterness. Fingers were pointed, accusations were thrown around and an almighty ruckus ensued. At the end of it all, Luciano Moggi became the fall-guy and the Grand Old Lady of Italian football ended up bearing the brunt of the ignominy in the melee. Juventus was stripped of her last two Scudetti and banished to the wilderness of Serie B. The huge empire the Agnellis had chiseled out with the blood and sweat of Trapattoni and Lippi was coming apart at the seams.

Having been the most successful club in Italy’s history and a European powerhouse (Lippi’s Juve were the blueprint for Sir Alex Ferguson’s European success) up until now, the Old Lady had hit rock bottom. With the Bianconeri relegated to Serie B, the Juventini feared the worst and had every reason to do so.

Italian soccer too was at the fag end of its golden age and the players were seeking pastures new. The coffers were slowly but surely drying up, the merchandise dwindling and the lack of stadia ownership were coming home to roost. It wasn’t a free-fall but the cracks were beginning to show and the fissures appeared ominous. Milan and Inter were gamely carrying on, putting on brave shows but very obviously delaying the inevitable (with Mourinho even winning the Champions league with Inter later in 2010, a huge achievement considering the context). The ousting of the biggest club in Italy was a body-blow and couldn’t have happened at a more inopportune moment.

And so, it unraveled. Personally, being a boyhood fan, it was hard to fathom. It was over before it began. It was so quick and fleeting, you were left with the last remnants before you knew it. The perennial poachers arrived and Fab Capello along with his trusted lieutenants, Cannavaro and Emerson, succumbed to the lure of the Bernabeu. Not far behind Madrid were the Catalans, swooping fast to pick up Zambrotta and Thuram. Patrick Vieira (funny how he started chasing the dollars once he left Arsenal) left for Inter along with Zlatan (being a fan, I don’t blame Zlatan too much) and Adrian Mutu was sold to the Viola. The heart of the club was ripped out.

Thankfully, the soul still remained. The players I grew up watching and idolizing, men who made me love the game and the club, had decided that home is where their hearts lay. Del Piero, Buffon and Nedved pledged their loyalty to the cause with Camoranesi and Trezeguet following suit. When the managerial custody was passed into the able hands of Didier Deschamps, I, for one, was relieved that the people at the top were keeping their heads and looked like having a blueprint to get themselves out of the rut. Here was a man who had seen it all and won it all with the Bianconeri, a player steeped in Juve’s legacy and traditions. Deschamps was coming back after a year’s hiatus from the game but only after a very profitable 4-year stint as head coach of Monaco. You could still swear by him. Added to the mix and promoted from the academy were a clutch of youngsters that included Giorgio Chiellini (nose not battered then) and a fresh-faced, blue-eyed Claudio Marchisio. Juventus were ready to begin again and contest for promotion with the likes of Rimini, Crotone and Triestina.

The Old lady was kicking off its first ever Serie B campaign starting from a points tally of -9. Not happy despite stripping the club of the 2 Scudetti and relegating them to the lower division, the mob had decided to dock points off, even in the second tier. With everyone seemingly conspiring against them, Juve started off with a modest 1-1 draw at Rimini. Deschamps’s men got into their stride soon enough though, winning the next eight games without much ado. Except for an odd flutter now and then, the Bianconeri continued their relentless pursuit of the top flight and gained promotion with three games to spare. Del Piero, Trezeguet and Nedved had plundered the lion’s share of the goals but there was one man who stood out. Gigi Buffon had played in goal every single game and had conceded just 25 goals throughout the campaign. With Europe’s elite and finest ready to whisk him away at the drop of a hat, Buffon had spurned all the advances and decided to stay in Turin before the season began. At the peak of his powers with his best years seemingly ahead of him, he had decided to give back some of the love and trust the club had invested in him. The 32.7 mill Juve had dished out to pry him away from Parma was proving to the best investment in the history of the club. Gigi was paying back in kind, every single penny of that hefty transfer fee.

With the first hurdle of immediate promotion to top flight football out of the way, 2007-08 was going to be vitally important for the club. It was going to be imperative for Juventus, to make significant inroads in the transfer market, cut the mustard against the top sides and build a team that would challenge for the top honors as soon as possible. Things, however, did not start off particularly well with Deschamps leaving the club after a disagreement with the board and Claudio Ranieri replacing him. To be fair to him, the ‘Tinkerman’ is a good coach, but I was not particularly a fan and besides, Deschamps was a cult hero at the club. But credit to Ranieri, the Bianconeri finished 3rd and secured the automatic champions league spot. The immediate key boxes were ticked. The situation looked fine and dandy from the outside, but a closer introspection revealed otherwise. Despite key wins against top sides in the Serie A, the performances were underwhelming. Juventus’s defense and midfield have always been the bedrocks of their success, with stalwarts like Conte, Ferrara, Deschamps, Tacchinardi and Davids manning the enemy lines and forming impenetrable backbones. This Juve side was woefully inept in that department. Devoid of any defensive lynchpins and midfield generals, the team sorely lacked a spine and a winning mentality. The transfers did not help either. You struggled to comprehend the logic behind Alessio Secco’s (Sporting Director) purchase of Grygera, Tiago Mendes and Sergio Almiron. Decent players, but Juventus material hardly. Despite the results and the achievements, it did not take long for an avid fan to see through the facade and spot the soft underbelly. It was going to be a concern alright.

The next three seasons saw the gradual decline and disintegration of the team. Juve held out for one more season in 2008-09 where they managed to finish as runners-up but the club hastened their collapse in the following seasons finishing 7th on successive occasions. Heads were called for and who better to pin the blame on than the head-coach. A game of musical chairs ensued and the four years between 2008 and 2011 saw the Old Lady give the heave-ho to four different Managers. The ‘Tinkerman’ had tinkered enough and gave way to Ciro Ferrara during the end of the 2009 campaign. Ferrara failed to inspire the Bianconeri in the same way as he did so while manning the club’s backline as a player. Alberto Zaccheroni was roped in as a replacement, but was soon ushered out with the same haste to make way for Luigi Del Neri. Del Neri’s 2010-11 season proved to be another ugly blot on the club’s copybook and he too had to go. The transfer windows too, resembled a charade with players moving in and out like bobbysoxers out of night clubs. This shambolic state of affairs also saw some absolute horror-shows by the team on the pitch, none more so than the 4-1 mauling at the hands of lowly Fulham in the 2009-10 edition of the Europa league. In the meanwhile, Pavel Nedved had also decided to hang up his boots and ride off into the sunset at the end of the 2008-09 season. La Furia Ceca as the faithful affectionately called him, had been the club’s crown jewel in the last decade and to see the legend bid a tearful farewell represented the end of an era for the Bianconeri. By the end of the 2010-11 season, the club was teetering on the edge of mediocrity and the Juventini’s worst fears were being realized. Juventus were descending into footballing oblivion. Something had to give and give fast.

If Antonio Conte was the Don Corleone of the Juventus family, “Beppe” Marotta was undoubtedly the Tom Hagen behind the club’s revival, playig the role of Consigliere to perfection. The club first hired Giuseppe “Beppe” Marotta in the summer of 2010 from Sampdoria to take over from Alessio Secco after his disastrous reign as Sporting Director. Eyebrows were raised upon his appointment as Marotta had brought Del Neri with him in 2010 in what turned out to be a nightmare season. But behind those benign aristocratic features, lurked a razor sharp brain that would eventually mastermind the Old Lady’s resurgence. Andrea Agnelli (Owner) stuck to his guns and knew there was no better man than Marotta to haul the club back to its dizzying heights. Even if Marotta’s debut season as Director was one to forget, there were a couple of signings which showed the watchful eye that Marotta knew what he was doing. The purchases of Barzagli and Bonucci in 2010 would lay the foundation for the club’s defensive stranglehold on the Scudetto for years to come. But the fans and the public had little or no inkling about the kind of impact the genial CEO would have on the club.

2011-2012 proved to be a landmark year in the club’s illustrious history for many reasons, not least cos of the new head-coach that Marotta had appointed that year. The club had had enough and Antonio Conte was the man trusted to restore the Old Lady to the summit of Italian football. Now, Conte was as different from his predecessors as chalk from cheese. He had an aura about him, a presence and swagger that exuded confidence. The man was a born leader and you felt privileged to obey him when he stood on the touch line and barked out his instructions. Antonio had also served his beloved club with distinction during his playing days leading them to a pile of major honors.

Soon after the introduction of Conte, came the unveiling of the club’s new stadium. Nestled in the north of Turin and overlooking the Alps, the magnificent Juventus stadium became the first privately-owned stadium in Italy. The club had acquired complete ownership rights and the stadium was exclusive to Juventus FC. This gave the Old Lady a huge advantage over the other Italian clubs whose stadia were owned by the municipalities. The revenue generated from the ticket sales, the merchandize and all the other trappings and frills available in the Stadium went entirely into the Club’s coffers. This would make them considerably richer than the rest of Italy, afford them a bigger playing field in terms of players and wages and put them a couple of levels above their peers, if the affairs of the club – on the pitch and off it, were handled right. And Marotta and Conte did just that!

The summer of 2011 heralded the beginning of Marotta’s midas exploits in the transfer markets. The next few years would see the Consiglieremanipulate the transfer market like a wall-street broker and effect the shrewdest of investments. Minimal expenditure for maximum impact became Marotta’s motto and a slew of transfer coups followed. Andrea Pirlo arrived from Milan for free (God knows what Berlusconi was smoking up to give away Pirlo) and the indefatigable Lichsteiner was bought from Lazio on the cheap. Marotta pulled off another masterstroke by snatching Arturo Vidal from Leverkusen right under the noses of mighty Munich. The Club had been keeping tabs on the Chilean for a while now and was delighted to get him for a modest fee. The mercurial presence of the peerless Pirlo (shall be referred to as ‘the Divine beard’ henceforth) and Vidal’s dynamism and energy gave Juve the much needed impetus in the middle of the park. Aided by the barn-door of Chiellini, Barzagli and Bonucci, Buffon made the Juve fort nigh impregnable and Conte’s men won their first Scudetto in six seasons.

People hoping that this would prove to be a flash in the pan were left disappointed. The following seasons saw Marotta exercise his intellect time and again. Juve managed to sign the atrocious talent of Paul Pogba from Manchester United for nothing, Carlos Tevez cost them folding money and Fernando Llorente walked in for free. With the ‘Divine Beard’ given free rein to weave his magic, Conte’s men hogged possession and choked their opponents into submission with their 3-5-2. Vidal had evolved into an absolute beast, Asamoah and Lichtsteiner motored up and down the pitch like nobody’s business and Carlitos had begun to enjoy his football again. The players were prepared to run through brick walls for the coach. The likes of Marchisio and Chiellini – born and bred in Juve’s colors, ran themselves to the ground for the club’s cause. Conte had instilled a fierce sense of pride in every player putting on the shirt and every single one of them was queuing up to pledge his loyalty to the coach and the badge.

Juve’s football was all about heart and character rather than panache and flair. The very qualities that embody Conte himself. With his troops spilling blood for him, Conte again guided the club to successive Scudetti. The pride and dignity were restored and so was the arrogance and belief. The romance of that famous black-and-white shirt had returned. Antonio Conte had made his mark. The Old Lady was back to her regal self.

With their domestic supremacy firmly reinstated after winning 3 Scudetti on the bounce, it was time that Juve shifted their attention to Europe’s elite without relinquishing their stranglehold in Italy. Despite making remarkable progress as a club domestically, Conte’s men had struggled to make any significant headway in Europe’s top competition. Part of the reason was the gaffer himself. Conte’s stubbornness to budge from his preferred 3-5-2 prevented his team from making any sort of impact in Europe, so much so, that the man himself became convinced that his outfit was no match for the continent’s top dogs. Add to that, his refusal to rotate his team to keep his premier players fresh for key clashes, and the Bianconeri were more often than not, bypassed with consummate ease. But I, for one, did not believe that this team was that far way and there were evidences that suggested that with one or two quality additions and the right tactics, the club could go toe to toe with the cream of the crop in Europe. Juve’s encounters with Chelsea and Real Madrid in the previous seasons stand testament to that. Conte’s men outplayed the Blues over the course of two legs and more than held their own against Mourinho’s Real – home and away. The recipe was pretty much there, all that was needed was one or two vital ingredients and the right cook to stir the broth.

The summer of 2014 saw Conte’s abrupt departure to fill the vacant position of the Italian national team. This stunned the supporters and the public alike with the announcement being made so close to the beginning of the new season. But Conte had served his time with distinction and had hauled the Bianconeri back to the summit from nowhere. And he deserves immense credit for that. The man believed that the club’s vision did not complement his and had decided to move on. It was time for the club to move on too.

The paparazzi went into overdrive with fresh fears over the futures of the club’s stars. Everyone was expecting a big name coach to assuage all the doubts and uncertainties and lead the club forward. Much to the displeasure of all and sundry, Marotta pulled a rabbit outta the hat by giving the job to Max Allegri. The fans were appalled at this appointment and they greeted the new coach with raging vitriol and eggs. Allegri to them, spelled doomsday, the man who presided over the demise of Milan had no business with the biggest club in Italy. In retrospect, Allegri was a tactically astute coach well capable of delivering the results with the right backing, as his spells at Cagliari and Milan actually suggested. Milan’s steep decline was a product of Berlusconi’s whims and Galliani’s mismanagement and Allegri had happened to be the fall-guy with his hands tied behind his back. But this was of no concern to the Juve Faithful. You are only as good as your team and Allegri’s last team had had a dramatic fall from grace. Everyone feared the worst and thus the season began.

But what a season it eventually turned out to be. Marotta ticked all the right transfer boxes yet again and bought the precocious potential of Alvaro Morata from Real and the priceless experience of Patrice Evra from Manchester United. The likes of Kingsley Coman, Stefano Sturaro and Roberto Pereyra were bought as investments for the future. Max Allegri began the new campaign with Conte’s trusted 3-5-2 and resisted from changing much. Juve hit their stride soon enough and continued their domestic dominance. The fans were slowly getting less apprehensive of Allegri but were still some way off from really buying into him. Europe represented the acid test and Allegri wouldd do well to pass it.

And pass it, he did, with flying colors. With the right resources and the right backing, Europe brought the gaffer’s tactical acumen to the fore. Allegri fast realized that sticking to a 3-5-2 wouldn’t serve his purpose in the continent and alternated between a 4-4-2 diamond and the former whenever the situation demanded. This experimentation saw the club limp through their group stages but they were close to getting completely comfortable with the diamond. The advent of the knockouts saw Juventus regularly adopt a 4-4-2 and cement themselves as ruthless exponents of the art of the counterattack. Dortmund were dispatched with clinical counter attacks and the Bianconeri shot the bolts and battened down the hatches employing the classic Catenaccio against Monaco. With all these displays being dismissed as coming against ‘favorable opposition’, the semifinals against Real provided the Old Lady with the perfect opportunity to make the world sit up and take notice. Allegri’s men promptly responded and in some style. The tactics were spot on and Ancelotti’s men played right into Juventus’s hands. The dogged defending and the lethal counter-attacks accomplished the perfect Italian Job against Real and the Bianconeri were on the road to Berlin for their first Champions league final in more than a decade.

Having won her 4th Scudetti on the bounce and also her first Coppa Italia in 20 years, the Old Lady was well worth her place in the Champions League final and had reasons to be optimistic. The players were going to do their utmost to get their hands on the Holy Grail which had eluded them for close to two decades now – too long for a club of Juventus’s stature. But Allegri’s men were going to need destiny to intervene to win the Prize as it was Barcelona waiting on the other side. Now, this Blaugrana side with Messi seemingly bordering on the supernatural, was the best team on the planet and at the peak of its powers. Besides a miracle, It was going take something truly special from Juventus to overcome the odds and the match had all the makings of a cult classic.

And it lived up to its billing. Not without the scare of ending up as a damp squib though. After Barca scored within the first five minutes, Juve were run ragged and were in danger of being played off the park. But Allegri’s men had not come all this way for nothing and hung in there, albeit a little perilously, till the interval. They came out with more intent and purpose after the restart, but it was still unbelievable when Morata dispatched Tevez’s rebound to level the scores. Having stretched every sinew and fiber to thwart wave after of Barca’s attacks, the Old lady had managed to weather the storm and was right back in it. There was a palpable change in the mood of the game now and the next quarter of an hour saw Juve have a right go at the Blaugrana. Luis Enrique’s men were rattled and Allegri’s men were giving as good as they were getting. The atmosphere was electric and the tie was balanced on a knife-edge. From merely hoping to put up a decent fight, every Juventino started to believe and pray. I would have started a diary farm had the butterflies in my stomach been cows.

But a moment of brilliance by the diminutive genius nipped all the hopes in the bud. It had to take something magical to break the tension and Messi duly obliged. Picking the ball up from the halfway line, the Argentine glided through the Old Lady’s cordon before getting a shot away and Suarez blasted the rebound into the roof of the net. Juve battled on gamely but the race was run and Neymar drove the final nail in the coffin. And just like that, it was over.

When you see tears flowing down Pirlo’s face, you know there is no shame in you shedding a tear or two yourself. With grace and gumption that belied his age, the ‘Divine beard’ had given his absolute everything to get his hands on that trophy for one last time. The Bianconeri had faltered at the last hurdle and their Champions League dream was over. But the journey back to being European royalty is now complete. The club had risen from the depths of despair to the heady heights of domestic doubles and champs league finals again. The players had spilt blood, sweat and tears for the cause and they now stood vindicated. Their passage to Berlin has been no fluke and they are back to being the European giants they once were.

The likes of Vidal, Marchisio and Bonucci have pledged their loyalty to the badge with contract renewals and the core of the team shall remain intact. Club legends like Buffon (the man deserves a statue and a knighthood) and Chiellini sticking around for a few more years would ensure that the next wave of talent in Sturaro, Pereyra and Rugani learn the Juventus way and don the black-and-white strip with heart and honor. Besides all this and most importantly, Marotta and the rest of the directors have renewed their contracts as well. And the Consigliere has wasted no time in building for the future should talents like Tevez and Pogba leave the club. The signature of the argentine wonder kid Paulo dybala has been sealed and delivered and the mooted transfer of Sami Khedira is to be sewn up soon.With Marotta and Andrea Agnelli at the helm and not going anywhere anytime soon, the club is in the safest hands possible.

The glory days have returned. The future is secure, safe, and bright. The Old Lady is well and truly back and here to stay. Fino Alla Fine.

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