Football Travel: S.S.C. Napoli

In this guest post, Andrew Williams recalls his visit to Naples in 2017, to watch Maurizio Sarri’s free-flowing S.S.C. Napoli. He describes the San Paolo and how Diego Maradona, who propelled Napoli to their first Scudetto in 1987, is still worshipped in the city like a God.

10 May 1987

Naples erupts. S. S. C. Napoli had just won its first Scudetto. The tension lifts. Celebrations flare up inside the San Paolo. The stadium is an inferno. The streets outside, in the graffiti-covered suburb of Fuorigrotta, are awash with blue and white scarves. Flags wave and smoke bombs cloud the restless streets. The whole of Naples, home to over three million, breaks out into a carnival.

Italy finally has a southern champion. The Scudetto, which had been passed almost exclusively between Rome, Milan and Turin, at long last, is coming to Naples. The Azzurri now stitch a little shield onto their kit. Neapolitans, after years of maltreatment from the north, can at last feel hopeful. Bullish, there are defiant chants of “campione!”

Footage from that day in May shows thousands of triumphant fans, clad in light blue and white, taking to cars and scooters to celebrate together. Naples is no longer dormant.

The victory was about more than football. The celebrations are a massive “fuck you” to the North. What they’ve prayed for has happened, thanks mainly, to one man: Diego Armando Maradona.

World Champion with Argentina in 1986, he is now a champion of Italy. He is the team’s talisman. But, to Neapolitans, he’s much more than that.  Between this victory in 1987 and a second Scudetto in 1990, Maradona and Napoli are on top of Italy.  Neapolitans adored Maradona who they saw as their own — a poor boy from a tough neighbourhood who had to fight from day one.

Napoli understands this. The Partenopei had a new God.

21 May 2017

The final whistle blows at the San Paolo. Maurizio Sarri’s free-flowing Napoli have beaten Fiorentina. After watching the match amongst the ultras in one of the curvas, we shuffled our way to the bare concourse and down a cold concrete stairwell to ground level.

It has been an intense 90 minutes, largely spent watching raucous fans launching missiles towards the away support to our left-hand side. Sensibly, visiting supporters at the San Paolo are placed in seats under a draping protective net.

Topless ultras jumping and chanting in unison, flags, explosions, flares and free-flowing ‘Sarriball’ — the notorious Napoli experience was complete. Intimidating? Yes. Wild and uncivilised, it was worlds apart from the sterilisation of the Premier League. We kept our heads down to avoid confrontation in an environment that could quickly boil over.

Outside in the street, traffic was at a standstill. The Naples Metro, which we used to get to the stadium before kick-off, had closed for the night.

The walk from the San Paolo back to the Naples waterfront takes you down Via Fuorigrotta and through a dark and dirty tunnel. After exiting the tunnel into the harbour, we passed the Castel dell’Ovo and Castel Nuovo. Both are relics of the city’s medieval history, oozing with tales from centuries ago of conquests and fallen empires.  

There are no celebrations after today’s penultimate Serie A round. Chaotic Naples, in the foothills of Mount Vesuvius, is a city like no other. The spirit of those two Scudetti and Maradona remain. The tight streets and restless portside boulevards lined with murals of the Argentinian. Walking back by the ocean, the sea breeze whips down the promenade. The noise of the celebrations nearly thirty years prior drifts faintly by. It’s easy to be nostalgic in this city.

Napoli and Maradona were a match made in heaven in the eighties and early nineties. He led his team to its only two titles before ascending into mythology. He even asked his Neapolitan disciples to support Argentina against Italy when the two teams faced off at the San Paolo in the semi-finals of Italia 1990.

Maradona left for Sevilla in disgrace in 1991, before appearing for Newell’s Old Boys and Boca Juniors. Yet it is in Naples, at the San Paolo, where El Pibe de Oro (The Golden Boy) is probably best remembered. In club football at least, and when you exclude his off-field antics and infamous performance against England at Mexico ‘86.

How to Visit S.S.C. Napoli

When you visit Naples, make sure you visit Pompeii and Sorrento, while you should hop on a boat across the waters of the Bay of Naples to the island of Capri.

But whatever you do, don’t leave Naples without going to a match. For curious football fans, a visit to Naples should be always topped off with visit to the San Paolo; a dramatic, decaying arena with a capacity of 60,240.

Check the fixtures and buy tickets to a match, because there aren’t stadium tours. There isn’t a museum either. Only an old concrete stadium in need of a renovation. A lick of paint is much needed, although it’ll be a shame when it happens in time for the 2019 Summer Universiade.

Italian club websites are notoriously difficult to navigate. But, with Google now translating foreign-language sites, it is possible to buy tickets online. However, we bought ours the day before the match, from one of the many official club box offices that are dotted around the city.  

Fan trouble in Italy means all supporters must show identification when buying tickets and when entering a stadium, so take your passport along or you’ll be watching on Sky Italia.

The cheapest tickets are in Curva A and Curva B. That’ll see you stood behind one of the goal, where you’ll experience the most authentic matchday experience amongst diehard Neapolitans. The curvas, occupied with militant supporters, seem lawless and anarchic. For a quieter time, sit at the side of the pitch, behind or opposite the dugouts.

Some of this post appeared originally on the Hopeless Football Romantic site but has since been removed.