THAT interview with Andrea Dossena

The greatest story never told

When Andrea Dossena was a little boy growing up in Lodi, northern Italy, he would spend hours sat cross legged outside the cathedral on the historic Piazza della Vittoria, telling strangers how he would change the world one day, many miles away from where he now sat. Of course, the strangers laughed at the claims of the little boy and told him to go to school. “Correre e cagare allo stesso tempo comporterà un disastro,” the young Andrea would snap back. ‘By running and shitting at the same time will result in a mess.’

The strangers grew tired of the boy’s insolence and started telling him in no uncertain terms that he was deluded. “Il cane che abbaia non morde,” the old man who sold rosaries outside the cathedral told him. ‘The dog that barks doesn’t bite.’ Quick as a flash, Andrea would shout: “Fatti i cazzi tuoi vecchi testicoli, ca campi cent’anni.” ‘Mind your own business old bollocks and you’ll live 100 years.’ Growing tired of being called ‘old bollocks’ by the young man, even the kindly rosary seller stopped talking to him. Andrea was often left alone with his thoughts.

In July 2008, Dossena arrived at Anfield for £7m and a plan a lifetime in the making was beginning to come together. The first part was to make everyone think he was a bit shite. It was at this that he truly excelled, managing to look like a plumber who had won a competition to train with a Premier League side for the day. Shonky first touch. Average passing range. Mediocre at tackling. Making Paul Konchesky look good. Ok, maybe I got carried away there, but you get the general idea. He was just really quite shite all the time and, of course, he became a bit of a joke for being really quite shite.

Speaking to The Guardian’s Neil Johnston in November 2008, Dossena explained his struggle to get up to speed: “I must now get to a high level and maintain that, but first I have to battle to win selection.” He added: “Eighteen months ago I would not have expected to be playing for one of the most famous clubs in the world.”

But what the interviewer fails to mention is the twinkle in Dossena’s eye. And this is what a lot of people, nay, everyone (except me and Andrea Dossena) don’t appreciate; he was trying to look shite on PURPOSE. For a laugh. He told me as much when I travelled to Naples to talk to him, but I’ll get to that later.

March 2009. You may remember it for China’s first lunar probe impacting the moon. I don’t. I remember it for a ludicrous five-day period when Liverpool beat Real Madrid 4-0 and Man United 4-1. But above and beyond this, I remember it for Andrea Dossena.

For a week, he was the best player in the world. Real Madrid at Anfield. The 87th minute. One touch. Bang. “Pick that out Casillas”, he seemed to say. And here’s the thing. He had predicted this TWENTY years previously. On the steps of the cathedral on the Piazza della Vittoria. When he lobbed Edwin Van Der Sar in the 90thminute with a swish of that wand of a left foot, you can clearly see Dossena mouth to the camera “that one’s for you old bollocks”. I remember crying when he scored. Because Dossena had purposefully hoodwinked everyone into thinking he was absolutely shite when in fact he was the best player in the world and by some margin. He wore number two on his back at Liverpool did Dossena. He would score two goals. One against Real Madrid and one against Manchester United. I cried at the remarkable beauty of it. At its implausibility.

June 2011. Naples. When I travelled to the Avvocato district to research this piece, everyone I met had something to say about Dossena. Most often, I would hear him described as a ‘visionario’. In a little coffee shop on the Piazza Dante, Professor Paolo Vittorio explained to me the impact of Dossena’s conscious choice to showcase his sublime skills for just 36 minutes, over two substitute appearances against two of the biggest clubs in the world. “Andrea knew from a very early age he was blessed with a God-given talent,” Vittorio told me in impeccable English. “But he was very modest. Too modest. Rather than play beautiful football week in, week out, he decided that the best thing he could do was to condense all of his skills into essentially what was a 36-minute cameo, spread over two matches.”

When I finally met Dossena, at Napoli’s training ground, I was tense. Who wouldn’t be. I had been told by the Napoli press officer that I was to have no more than two minutes with the Italian and there was so much I wanted to ask him. When he arrived, Dossena was intense and enigmatic. He told me he still watched English football when he could and that he missed the atmosphere in the English grounds. He joked that he even missed being called a “shite, bald tosser”. But when I asked him about his premonition, his face hardened and he held me with a powerful gaze.

“I’m from a large Catholic family. My mother and father, they worked very hard so that I could have football boots and kit. They worked from seven in the morning until eight at night. I respect them for their sacrifice. When my father saw the talent I had in my left foot, he told me that it would be wrong to humiliate the other players. He said I should let myself have one week where I show my talent but no more than this. This is why I chose the week we played Real Madrid and United. I had always known that March 2009 would be the time. To coincide with the first Chinese lunar probe landing on the moon.” With that, Dossena shook my hand and left. I knew I’d been in the presence of greatness. And the best part is, now that I can tell his story, maybe people will finally realise what a very special talent Andrea Dossena really was.

This interview first appeared on the now defunct Surreal Football in 2011. There is no record of it anywhere.