Prisco entered San Siro an hour before the game, “in trance”; Agnelli a minute earlier, by kings that appears, escorted by the codazzo of the reporters. The times when Juve-Inter was their game
The derby of Italy when the lawyers were there. Gianni Agnelli, Peppino Prisco. Battles in Go-go, poisons in the form of caresses, colds in the pre and post-match menu, always storage of style and stiletto, never with the club. Great class lawyers, unique in silent the entire football court. When they spoke they came to say: your honor, I have nothing else to add. But: that they sweep that superfine irony that both distinguished, that intelligence that embellished the Bla-Bla-Bla on the ball, that lateral way of facing every question, with elegance and disenchantment. Once they asked Agnelli what it meant to be in love with Juve. He replied: “It means waking up happy on Monday morning because the day before Juve won.” Floating nobility. Prisco’s slogan was: “If I give my hand to a Milan player I wash it, if I give it to a Juventus one I realize the fingers”. Cutting fool. They were made like this, of a special pasta.