I just got done reading the novel “Station Eleven” by Emily St. John Mandel. It’s about a world immediately after a virus wipes out most of the population (the book was written in 2014, five years before COVID-19) and the survivors live in the stone age because civilization has collapsed. There is no gas for cars, no power for electricity, no running water, etc. Essentially, it’s an apocalypse. The story is about how we as individuals would reckon with an unthinkable and irreversible event, one that definitively separates two eras. “Station Eleven” ends as the characters who remember the world before the collapse of civilization realize that the world didn’t end, it’s just changed forever.

The truth is, maybe Italy as a footballing country needs to realize the same is true for us. Maybe, the world didn’t end in 2017 when we lost to Sweden maybe it just changed forever. If the seemingly catastrophic happens twice then maybe, it’s a pattern not an aberration.

Some will point to the Euros as proof that Italy is still one of the world’s most important football countries. Lifting the trophy against England at Wembley, after missing out on the 2018 World Cup, was an incredible victory. But, then again, Greece beat Portugal at the Estadio da Luz in 2004.

If winning the Euros meant more because it was a recompense for the overwhelming sense of failure of missing out on the 2018 World Cup, then missing out on the 2022 World Cup makes the win, at best, bittersweet nostalgia and, at worst, a delusion of grandeur.

Deep down we know we’ll never reminisce about the 2020 Euros without remembering the North Macedonia game. The memory doesn’t remind you of the joy you felt in the moment, only of the pain of realizing it was built on a lie. Like a perfect vacation with a significant other that was cheating on you. Yeah, sure, a candlelit dinner under the Eifel Tower is a priceless romantic memory. Less so, when you find out they were sending nudes to someone else from the restaurant bathroom.

The knowledge that Italy’s Euro win will forever be an asterisk trophy is unshakably humiliating. We’ve become the answer to a trivia question.

Trivia Question

“Who is the latest team to win the Euros and not go to the following World Cup.” Italy.

Trivia Question

“What country got eliminated in back-to-back World Cup play-in games in different formats, no less?” Italy.

Trivia Question

“What team went unbeaten for 59 consecutive home World Cup qualifiers and still missed out on two consecutive World Cups?” Italy.

Existential Question

“What are you supposed to do when the apocalypse happens twice?” No answer.

In a press conference after the game, Gabriele Gravina, President of the Italian Football Federation, said “criticism is ok but let’s be careful not to scratch everything done until today. That would be a very grave mistake.”

His statement was in reference to winning the Euros in July. That’s the right sentiment, just pointed in the wrong direction. Forgetting the Euros isn’t a grave mistake, forgetting everything that came before and after that wonderful hiatus would be.

Since the Euros, Italy had several chances to decide their fate in what were nothing short of do or die moments for their World Cup qualification. Jorginho’s two penalties against Switzerland and the draw against an already eliminated Northern Ireland should have been moments the team relished. A strong team that truly believes in itself would have loved the opportunity to seal their own fate. If you add that to the elimination in 2017 and the North Macedonia game the pattern starts to become clear. This Italy team does not handle pressure.

It's one thing when the apocalypse happens to you. It’s another when you do it to yourself.

There was pressure at the Euros in the penalty shootouts in the semi-final and final but they were due to the magnitude of the stage than the expectations for the team. The real pressure was on Spain, the better side, and England, playing at home. The Italian players would have been treated like heroes back home, regardless. Italy, already having surpassed the non-existent expectations, were free of the demands of its public.

 In all likelihood, what caught up with Italy during World Cup qualifying was a team composed of players whose careers have—despite some successes—in reality, been marked by colossal failures. If in the highest-pressure moments of the biggest games, even your best, most winningest players are haunted by the question “what if it happens again?” it very well might happen again.

 Verratti, Italy’s best player, is the most decorated player in PSG history. He’s also been there for every one of its European debacles—Barcelona, Man U, Real Madrid, and the final against Bayern. Jorginho won the Champions League at Chelsea. Before that he was part of Sarri’s Napoli that blew their chance at the Serie A in 2018 one game after beating title favorites Juventus in Turin on a 90th minute winner. Chiellini and Bonucci have dominated Italy in the last decade. Outside of Italy they’ve lost two Champions League finals, been eliminated from two World Cups in the group stage, and missed out on one altogether. For Bonucci, we can also add in the disastrous, and frankly emasculating, season at Milan. At the apex (or nadir) of Italy’s misfortune (or losing-ness) is Florenzi, one of the best players yesterday, who spent a season on loan at PSG in which he didn’t even win the league.

 Losing is a natural part of sports, especially at its highest levels. Still, you can’t shake the feeling that so many players, with so many career defining losses might have compromised the team’s belief in its own ability to perform in the pivotal moments of the qualification campaign. Two penalties against Switzerland, 27 shots and a home draw against Bulgaria in September, 32 shots and loss against North Macedonia last night, are too many opportunities to be considered bad luck.

 In the end, it was down to fear. It was fear of failing, fear that they couldn’t live up to expectations, fear that the loses might define them more accurately than the wins. It was fear of another apocalypse.

Existential Question

“What are you supposed to do when the apocalypse happens a third time?” I hope I never find out.