The management did everything to keep us who were left and use every loop hole that was in the contracts. It was a nightmare. I was coming up in my career. I was having my break through. Would everything fall now? It was a worried time, and I felt more and more every day: I was going to fight.
No way, I wasn’t going to sacrifice a year in division two, if you can call it one year, it would be more, I understood that: one year to get back up, another year or two to get back to the top and get a CL spot, and even then we would probably not have a great team. My best years as a football player was being risked and I told Mino time after time:
“Do whatever you can. Take me away from here.”
“I’m working on it.”
“You better.”
---
Everything felt quite desperate, and the new president, Giovanni Cobolli Gigli, also explained: we are not letting any more players leave. The management would fight for every single one, and of course I talked to Mino about this. We discussed it all the time, and we both agreed, there was only one way.
We had to strike back. So Mino went to the media and said:
”We’re prepared to take any legal means necessary to get away from this club.” We didn’t wanna appear weak, not a chance. If Juventus played hard ball, so would we. But it wasn’t a simple war. A lot was at stake, and I talked to Alessio Secco again, the guy who tried to be the new Moggi, and I instantly heard, his opinion was different now:
”You have to stay in this club. We demand that. You have to show loyalty with the team.”
”Before the break you said the opposite. That I should take any offers.”
”But the situation is different now. We’re in crisis. We will offer you a new contract.”
”I’m not staying”, I said. ”Under no conditions.”
---
Our new coach was Didier Deschamps. He was an old player too, french. He had been the captain when France won the World Cup in 1998, and now at his new job he was forced to get Juventus back to Serie A immediately. It was a tremendous pressure on him, and already during the first day in training he came up to me:
”Ibra”, he said.
”Yes?”
”I want to build our game around you. You are my most important player. You are the future. You have to help us back.”
”Thanks, but…”
”No buts. You have to stay here. I won’t accept anything else”, he continued, and even though it didn’t feel good, I heard how important I was to him, I continued my own plan:
”No, no, no. I’m leaving.”
I shared room with Nedved at the camp. Nedved and I were friends. Both of us had Mino as agent. But we were in different situations. Nedved, just like Del Piero, Buffon and Trézéguet had decided to stay in Juventus and I remember clearly how Deschamps came up to us, maybe to have us act out against eachother, I don’t know. But he wasn’t going to give up.
”Listen”, he said. ”I have great expectations on you, Ibra. You are the main reason I took this job.”
”Get out”, I said. ”You took the job for the club, not for me.”
”I promise. If you leave, I will leave”, he continued, and then I couldn’t help smiling, after all.
”OK man, pack your bags and call a cab”, I replied, and then he laughed like if I had been joking.
But I had never been so far from a joke in my life. If Juventus were fighting for it’s life as a major club, I was fighting for my life as a player too. One year in Serie B would make everything stop, and one of those days Alessio Secco and Jean-Claude Blanc came to me. Jean-Claude was a Harvard guy, a hot shot that the Agnellu family had taken in to save Juventus from disaster, and of course he had been accurate about things. He had his papers in order and had written a proposal for a contract with different amounts, and I immediately thought: Don’t even read it! Make a fuzz later! The more trouble you make, the more they want to let you go.
”I don’t even want to see it. I’m not signing anything”, I replied.
”Please at least look at what we’re offering. We’re being very generous!”
”Why? It won’t lead anywhere.”
”You don’t know that before you’ve looked at it.”
”Sure I do. Even if you offer me twenty million euros, it’s totally uninteresting for me.”
”That’s respectless of you”, Blanc hissed.
”Take it any way you want to”, I said, and left, and sure I knew I had hurt him, and that’s always a risk, and in a worst case scenario I would be without a club in September.
---
We were playing a practice game against Spezia, and what had I said about games? I wouldn’t play them.
So I sat there in my room, playing Playstation. And outside was the bus which would take us to the stadium and everyone was already downstairs, also Nedved, and I think the bus had the engine running. Where the fuck is Ibra? They waited and waited and finally Deschamps came up to my room.
He was furious.
”Why are you sitting here? We are leaving!”
I didn’t even turn around, just kept playing.
”Didn’t you hear me?”
”Didn’t YOU hear me?” I replied. ”I will train, but I won’t play any games. I’ve told you ten times.”
”Of course the fuck you do. You are part of this team. You’re coming NOW. Get up.” He stepped right up to me but I just sat there, kept playing.
”What kind of fucking respect is that, sitting here playing?” he screamed. ”You will be fined for this, you hear?”
”Okey.”
”What okey?”
”Give me fine. I’ll stay here!”
And then he left. He was going insane, and I was sitting there with my Playstation while the others left on that bus, and if things weren’t tense before, they became tense now. The incident was reported upwards of course. I was fined, thirty thousand euros I think. It became a war, and like in all wars, tactics were the most important thing. How would I strike back? What’s the next step? I was thinking and thinking.
No way, I wasn’t going to sacrifice a year in division two, if you can call it one year, it would be more, I understood that: one year to get back up, another year or two to get back to the top and get a CL spot, and even then we would probably not have a great team. My best years as a football player was being risked and I told Mino time after time:
“Do whatever you can. Take me away from here.”
“I’m working on it.”
“You better.”
---
Everything felt quite desperate, and the new president, Giovanni Cobolli Gigli, also explained: we are not letting any more players leave. The management would fight for every single one, and of course I talked to Mino about this. We discussed it all the time, and we both agreed, there was only one way.
We had to strike back. So Mino went to the media and said:
”We’re prepared to take any legal means necessary to get away from this club.” We didn’t wanna appear weak, not a chance. If Juventus played hard ball, so would we. But it wasn’t a simple war. A lot was at stake, and I talked to Alessio Secco again, the guy who tried to be the new Moggi, and I instantly heard, his opinion was different now:
”You have to stay in this club. We demand that. You have to show loyalty with the team.”
”Before the break you said the opposite. That I should take any offers.”
”But the situation is different now. We’re in crisis. We will offer you a new contract.”
”I’m not staying”, I said. ”Under no conditions.”
---
Our new coach was Didier Deschamps. He was an old player too, french. He had been the captain when France won the World Cup in 1998, and now at his new job he was forced to get Juventus back to Serie A immediately. It was a tremendous pressure on him, and already during the first day in training he came up to me:
”Ibra”, he said.
”Yes?”
”I want to build our game around you. You are my most important player. You are the future. You have to help us back.”
”Thanks, but…”
”No buts. You have to stay here. I won’t accept anything else”, he continued, and even though it didn’t feel good, I heard how important I was to him, I continued my own plan:
”No, no, no. I’m leaving.”
I shared room with Nedved at the camp. Nedved and I were friends. Both of us had Mino as agent. But we were in different situations. Nedved, just like Del Piero, Buffon and Trézéguet had decided to stay in Juventus and I remember clearly how Deschamps came up to us, maybe to have us act out against eachother, I don’t know. But he wasn’t going to give up.
”Listen”, he said. ”I have great expectations on you, Ibra. You are the main reason I took this job.”
”Get out”, I said. ”You took the job for the club, not for me.”
”I promise. If you leave, I will leave”, he continued, and then I couldn’t help smiling, after all.
”OK man, pack your bags and call a cab”, I replied, and then he laughed like if I had been joking.
But I had never been so far from a joke in my life. If Juventus were fighting for it’s life as a major club, I was fighting for my life as a player too. One year in Serie B would make everything stop, and one of those days Alessio Secco and Jean-Claude Blanc came to me. Jean-Claude was a Harvard guy, a hot shot that the Agnellu family had taken in to save Juventus from disaster, and of course he had been accurate about things. He had his papers in order and had written a proposal for a contract with different amounts, and I immediately thought: Don’t even read it! Make a fuzz later! The more trouble you make, the more they want to let you go.
”I don’t even want to see it. I’m not signing anything”, I replied.
”Please at least look at what we’re offering. We’re being very generous!”
”Why? It won’t lead anywhere.”
”You don’t know that before you’ve looked at it.”
”Sure I do. Even if you offer me twenty million euros, it’s totally uninteresting for me.”
”That’s respectless of you”, Blanc hissed.
”Take it any way you want to”, I said, and left, and sure I knew I had hurt him, and that’s always a risk, and in a worst case scenario I would be without a club in September.
---
We were playing a practice game against Spezia, and what had I said about games? I wouldn’t play them.
So I sat there in my room, playing Playstation. And outside was the bus which would take us to the stadium and everyone was already downstairs, also Nedved, and I think the bus had the engine running. Where the fuck is Ibra? They waited and waited and finally Deschamps came up to my room.
He was furious.
”Why are you sitting here? We are leaving!”
I didn’t even turn around, just kept playing.
”Didn’t you hear me?”
”Didn’t YOU hear me?” I replied. ”I will train, but I won’t play any games. I’ve told you ten times.”
”Of course the fuck you do. You are part of this team. You’re coming NOW. Get up.” He stepped right up to me but I just sat there, kept playing.
”What kind of fucking respect is that, sitting here playing?” he screamed. ”You will be fined for this, you hear?”
”Okey.”
”What okey?”
”Give me fine. I’ll stay here!”
And then he left. He was going insane, and I was sitting there with my Playstation while the others left on that bus, and if things weren’t tense before, they became tense now. The incident was reported upwards of course. I was fined, thirty thousand euros I think. It became a war, and like in all wars, tactics were the most important thing. How would I strike back? What’s the next step? I was thinking and thinking.
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