For once, Fabio Quagliarella might have been grateful not tofinish a complete game. His number wascalled 10 minutes from the end of Juventus’s 2-0 victory over Chievo Verona lastweek but as he walked toward the substitutes’ bench, the home crowd begansinging his name.
“Coming off to a standing ovation is nice,” he said withdeliberate understatement. “Tonight was the game of my life; in fact, this hasperhaps been the best week of my career.” There is no perhaps about it. At theage of 29, Quagliarella had emerged as Juve’s match savior. When FabioQuagliarella finds the net, he usually does so with an alchemist’s mixture ofimagination, fine touch and immaculate execution.
The one against Chelsea was rolled cutely between the legsof the goalie, Petr Cech. Last week, Juventus against Chievo, Quagliarellasoothed the anxiety, twice over. His first goal followed with the ball comingtoward him at around knee height. He launched both feet off the ground and,with his body horizontal to the turf, struck it with his right. Sorrentino gota hand, but was beaten by the precision of the shot. For the second goal, Quagliarellaapproached the left side of the penalty box, the ball under his command. Twodefenders tried to cut him off, but with a delicate little chip he eased theball over Dario Dainelli.
Three goals in four days lifted Quagliarella, and his team.There is so much intensity, such collective will to win in this Juventus sidethat it has gone more than a year without being beaten by any rival in Italy.
The current Juventus is built to combine industry, intensityand perseverance to outlast most opponents. Quagliarella, though, is different.His career reflects some of what troubles Italian soccer because the talent hasalways been apparent, but trusting it has not. Having left Naples to join theyouth program of Torino, he somehow became a peripheral man. An Italian youthteam player through each of the age levels from 17 upward, he wasn’t allowed tosettle. Torino loaned him out twice, then shared the rights to him withagencies that sold part ownership to Ascoli, then Udinese and then, for ashort, dreamlike homecoming, Napoli.
Even when Juventus came in for him, the agreement was messy.Juve paid only for a loan of Quagliarella before, a season later, consummatingthe deal by paying the fee Napoli sought over three years. Perhaps some playerscan shrug off this piecemeal ownership that treats them so transiently, as ifthey were chattels. Possibly, Quagliarella has never felt truly at home, ortruly appreciated. He has waited until quite late in his career to hear anaudience applaud him upon his leaving the field. The conundrum is this: Serie Ais more demanding on mental concentration than physical energy, which is onereason the players find the transition from the Champions League hard. But thechanges required to freshen up the team offer someone like Quagliarella what hemost needs “ a consistent run of opportunity.
