Totò Schillaci, the hero of the magical nights of the Italia 90 World Cup, has died. And if you lived through that period, you will have shed at least one tear thinking about that early summer 34 years ago.

Personally, I will never forget that World Cup, experienced in an area of ​​Turin where we were all children of workers from Southern Italy. I will never forget that blue writing on the street, that “Totò sei tutti noi” that could not have been more authentic.

Totò Schillaci truly represented our pride, and we all identified with him and his story. His childhood in a tough neighborhood in Palermo, the teasing from fans of other teams for that nasty story about tires stolen by his cousin. All swept away by his goals that united Italy for a month. We loved Schillaci so much that we didn’t stop when he changed teams, when he went to Japan, when he retired and disappeared from the radar, and we loved him so much when he returned to TV as a competitor on Pechino Express.

His wide eyes will remain in our memory forever, and we don’t care if when he spoke he let his difficulties with school books shine through. Totò you were all of us, and you will always be.

Totò Schillaci is dead: wide eyes, goals and those magical nights of Italia ’90