When the opening whistle blows in Mexico City on Thursday evening, the world will tune in for a festival of football. But for this columnist, and for...
When the opening whistle blows in Mexico City on Thursday evening, the world will tune in for a festival of football. But for this columnist, and for millions of tifosi back home, the tournament will feel like a feast with one crucial chair left empty. Italy will not be there. The four time world champion, the side that turned defensive art into a global religion, has been reduced to a spectator. And the silence from the Curva Nord feels louder than any roar in the Estadio Azteca.Let us be brutally honest. This is not a bad dream or a cruel twist of fate. It is the culmination of a long, slow decline in tactical flexibility and a stubborn refusal to evolve. For years, we have watched the Azzurri try to park the bus without the world class defenders to execute the manoeuvre. We have seen a midfield that lacks the legs to transition from defence to attack with any urgency. The modern game demands pace, movement, and the ability to break a low block. Italy, for all their historical nous, have become predictable. They are a side that can control possession in their own half but lack the clinical finishing and explosive wide play to unlock a disciplined defence. It is a tragic irony that the masters of catenaccio now find themselves undone by their own inability to break a side down.More than the tactics, however, lies a crisis of identity. The golden generation of 2006 was built on a spine of Gattuso's snarling aggression, Pirlo's hypnotic vision, and Cannavaro's uncanny reading of the game. Where is their successor We have seen flashes of talent, a promising run here, a qualification there, but no consistent soul. The game has moved on. It demands an athletic, high pressing machine. Italy, by contrast, have too often resembled a vintage sports car with a misfiring engine. They look the part in their smart blue kit, they strut across the pitch with historical swagger, but when the opposition sits deep and dares them to find a way through, the answer is all too often a hopeful cross or a speculative strike from distance. Squeaky bum time comes early for this generation, and they have bottled it too many times in the qualifiers.There is a deeper wound here, a psychological one. The national team is supposed to be the pride of the peninsula, the one institution that can unite the fractured regions of the country. To be absent from a World Cup in North America, a tournament that will be a global carnival, is a profound embarrassment. It sends a message to the footballing world that Italian football, once the benchmark for tactical intelligence and defensive resilience, has been left behind. The youth academies are producing technicians, but where are the leaders Where is the caustic character that drags a team through a difficult evening in a rain soaked qualifier against a lesser opponent That grit, that streetwise cynicism, has been replaced by a fragile, overly coached politeness.So, as the first ball is kicked in Mexico City, I will be watching, but with a heavy heart. The tournament will be spectacular. It will be full of pacing, drama, and the beautiful, chaotic unpredictability of the sport. But the absence of that famous blue shirt, of the chanting of 'Polo Azzurri', and of the sheer bloody mindedness that once defined this nation will be a void that no amount of goals can fill. This is not a bump in the road. This is a crossroads. And for Italian football, the path back to relevance starts with a long, hard look in the mirror. Can they find the humility to change Or will the 2026 World Cup be remembered not for who won it, but for the ghost of a champion that never showed up
