Richard Garnett, sports editor at Reach PLC, who own the Liverpool ECHO, spent a long weekend in Italy watching live football and found the game that he used to know and love
Fans of Pisa during the Serie A match between Pisa SC and AC Milan at Arena Garibaldi on February 13, 2026 in Pisa, Italy
Fans of Pisa during the Serie A match between Pisa SC and AC Milan at Arena Garibaldi on February 13, 2026 in Pisa, Italy(Image: Getty Images)
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For supporters of a certain vintage, the allure of Italian football has never really faded. Anyone who got their first glimpse into this mysterious and exciting new world during the World Cup in 1990 is likely to have grown up watching Gazzetta Football Italia on Channel 4 at a time when live top-flight matches in England were usually restricted to one game a week on a Sunday.
Teenagers watched in awe as the heroes of AC Milan, Inter, Juventus, Lazio and Sampdoria did battle in futuristic-looking grounds like the San Siro, amid a sea of flags and the smoke of flares. This was football, only sexier.
Back then, Serie A was the top league in Europe. Clubs like Milan were at the forefront of transfer activity, capturing the phenomenal Dutch trio of Marco van Basten, Ruud Gullit and Frank Rijkaard. In 1992, they paid Torino a world record £13million fee for Gianluigi Lentini., surpassing the £10m they had previously paid for French striker Jean-Pierre Papin.
From 1989 to 1997, Italian sides (usually Milan) claimed the European Cup four times and finished runner-up in another five finals. Everybody wanted to play there. Liverpool star John Barnes was frequently linked with a move to Italy, whilst the likes of Ian Rush, David Platt, Paul Gascoigne and Des Walker all made the move, with varying success.
The English first division simply could not compete with Italian football's quality, money, lifestyle or weather and it showed on the pitch.
Fast forward 30 years and the roles have been completely reversed. The Premier League is now comfortably the richest league in the world with an estimated annual revenue of £6.2billion - almost three times that of Serie A.
The stadiums in England are built for consumers and are of the very highest quality in Europe. The Premier League's marketing machine is unmatched, and as a consequence, the game has never been more popular, particularly at clubs like Liverpool, where players have now been elevated from sporting heroes to global superstars, with the pay checks to match.
In stark contrast, Italian football appears cash-strapped, with crumbling stadiums that are considered to be not fit for purpose for the modern game. One of the key elements of this is a lack of scope to incorporate lucrative hospitality facilities in stadiums that were built for working-class general admission supporters.
Nevertheless, Italian football has a place in the hearts of British football fans, so I didn't need much convincing when my football-mad son asked if we could do a long weekend in Italy watching Serie A and B matches.
The recent February school half-term was our second such adventure, having made a similar trek last year when I was 'convinced' to visit the San Siro "before it gets knocked down". By chance of the way fixtures landed, we ended up taking three games in, watching Atalanta v Cagliari in Bergamo before catching a train to Milan to witness AC Milan v Hellas Verona in the historic San Siro.
We even managed to fit in Parma v Roma the next day before checking out FC Como's ground on the way back to Bergamo airport. It was a trip and a half with memories that a father and son should cherish.
This time around, we got a little more adventurous. Our trip would start with a flight from Manchester to Pisa, where, after checking out the questionable architecture of a historic tower, we would take in Pisa Sporting Club v AC Milan. The following morning, we were on the train to Genoa, arriving two and a half hours later, in time for a Serie B encounter between Sampdoria and Padova.
Finally, we embarked on the most challenging leg of our journey, catching the overnight sleeper train eight hours south to Naples, where we had tickets to see one of the biggest games of the weekend - Napoli v AS Roma. Exciting stuff for sure.
What has this all got to do with Liverpool, you may ask? As a Liverpool season ticket holder of 25 years on the Kop, I have seen the match-going experience change beyond all recognition. The days of rocking up to the stadium on the day of the game with your mates and paying on the gate have long been banished to the memory banks.
These days, non-season ticket holders have to perform a military operation just to have a chance of getting a ticket. Those who do have also navigated the ticket cost as a barrier to entry. Visiting Anfield is a huge draw that stretches far beyond the local or time-served fan. It's a bucket-list destination for millions.
The same could be said of my own son's desire to visit the San Siro, before it is flattened, but in Italy, that is the exception to the rule.
Premier League football is played by perfect footballers in perfect stadiums where largely well-behaved crowds watch a game that has sold itself to the television paymasters and is never going back. The result is a highly polished product that is making its stakeholders a large fortune, never mind a small one.
The product is sold to consumers as an exciting experience with an exhilarating atmosphere, but they forgot to mention one key detail. That unique atmosphere doesn't just drop out of the sky. It is created by the hardcore supporters of the clubs they have spent their lives following and cheering for, come rain or shine.
Anfield's reputation as a football cathedral is known globally, with the Kop choir its heartbeat. But with every passing season, when it comes a little bit more expensive, or a little bit harder to access tickets, that energy is being stripped away and replaced by an altogether watered-down and quite frankly duller experience.
The same cannot be said for Italy, where I have rediscovered the sport I knew when I was growing up.
Unlike many Premier League grounds, tickets for Serie A matches are generally easy to come by. I picked up two tickets in the Curva Nord stand of Pisa's Garibaldi stadium for €45 each for the category A match against Milan.
After queuing for an age to get in, I finally passed through the chaos just after kick-off to be greeted by a wall of pyro smoke as the Pisa Ultras paid homage to one of their own, who had passed away 30 years ago.
Checking my seat number was an irrelevant exercise as it was quickly apparent that this was a case of stand where you want. My decision to stand directly in front of the Ultras' flag quickly marked me out as a tourist and after being told to move I was not off to the best start, but things quickly improved from thereon.
Anfield is used to tourist fans, but this did not seem to be the case at Pisa. For a moment I questioned my decision to purchase tickets right in with the Ultras but I need not have worried.
These fans are the heartbeat of Pisa and the Curva Nord belongs to them. With flags waving and drums beating, they sang and chanted nonstop for 90 minutes. I soon befriended an English-speaking fan who gave me some tips to keep the rest of the crowd onside.
When Pisa equalised in the second half, the ground erupted in delirium, and I celebrated as if I had supported Pisa all my life. Milan eventually ran out 2-1 winners with a late goal from Luka Modric (yes the same one) but with the home team already looking odds-on for relegation, the home fans did not let up in their audible devotion to their club.
Having been given a free pint at the snack bar just for being English and then getting another one off my new Ultra friend, I left Pisa with a feeling of belonging in what was a family atmosphere that you simply couldn't replicate in the Premier League.
(Image: Richard Garnett)
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The next day it was off to the industrial coastal city of Genoa, which in many ways felt similar to Liverpool. As is common in Italy, Sampdoria and Genoa groundshare at the iconic Luigi Ferraris Stadium - a venue that I have wanted to visit for years after being captivated by it on TV back in the day.
It didn't disappoint but perhaps not in the way that you would expect. The stadium was developed in the late 1980s ahead of the Italia '90 World Cup, but it doesn't look like it's been touched since.
Once inside, I am greeted by a labyrinth of corridors that connect a concourse that looks more like a multi-story car park than a football stadium. Its appearance could be considered somewhat intimidating. There is water leaking from the ceiling and the toilets look like they belong in a prison, but I found the grittiness oddly appealing.
We had tickets in the 'Northern Staircase' behind the goal and once again, it's a case of stand where you want. Sampdoria are playing in Serie B these days and their fans appear to hate their owners (one black Ultras flag simply says 'Go away') but when it comes to backing the badge, they are in a league of their own.
After belting out their beautiful club anthem 'Lettera da Amsterdam', the Samp faithful keep the party going with their huge colourful flags and frequent pyro let-offs across the 90 minutes. The action off the pitch is arguably more of a spectacle than what is happening on it, but that's not an issue.
(Image: Richard Garnett)
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In Italy, you can have a pint in your seat (and without judgment), and standing in groups with your friends and family is the norm, not an exception. This privilege on the day has cost me €25.
Now imagine a world where you can go to Anfield, get a ticket on the Kop for £20, agree to meet your mates in a particular spot in the Kop and watch the match together whilst sinking a few beers. This is pretty much how football used to be (apart from the pint bit) and the atmosphere and experience is all the better for it. Sampdoria win 1-0 and everyone is happy.
After marking the victory with a dinner and some celebratory drinks (whilst watching a brilliant Inter v Juventus match on TV), it's time to catch the sleeper train to Naples for the final leg of our adventure.
Naples is Maradonna country, and everywhere you look in the historic old town is a tribute to the late Argentine superstar.
Without the marketing pull of the polished Premier League, Napoli v Roma is not a total sell-out. In fact, the Roma fans are barred for this fixture thanks to an ugly motorway meet-up with Fiorentina fans a month ago. It highlights that Italian football has problems that no-one would want to return to the English game.
(Image: Richard Garnett)
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After visiting the Maradona mural in the middle of Naples during the day (an experience in itself), we were warned online that the area around the Diego Armando Maradona Stadium is a bit ropey. But in reality, it is no different from any other inner-city top football club.
Once inside the ground, it is a similar tale to our previous games on this trip, only a little more intense. With no hope of reaching our €39 allocated seat in the Curva B, the aisles are jam-packed with supporters who would rather stand than sit. We managed to find a couple of spare seats to save our feet before kick-off, and despite there being no away fans in the ground, the atmosphere is once more electric.
The contest is an entertaining 2-2 draw and after the match I am keen to take in my surroundings as much as possible before bringing our incredible football weekender to a close.
(Image: Richard Garnett)
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The difference between today's Premier League and Serie A is stark. Financially, they are in different worlds, but whilst Italian football may envy the riches of the English top flight, it can sleep easy knowing that it is yet to fully sell its soul.
Across the globe, we have seen more and more major sporting events become ever more consumed by money and commercialisation, but that isn't growing the game, it's just expanding the bank balances of its investors.
Football's working-class roots are disappearing quicker than ever in England at the top level, but whilst Italy clings onto an admittedly outdated fan-first model, it will always be a more authentic experience than its richer rival.
It would be daft to suggest that the Premier League should copy Serie A's recipe for success, when the opposite is likely to be true. But if clubs are serious about sustaining the unique atmosphere that they market themselves on, then they could still take a few learnings from what is going down in Italy.
One idea, at Liverpool for instance, that could re-energise the Kop, is to move the 'singing section' from the back of the stand to the front and make it an area that can only be accessed by local or time-served supporters. If that feels a touch discriminatory, maybe create the Kop's own version of an Ultras area where the most partisan supporters can once again congregate?
This should be a debate that supporter groups and the club are having openly, but one thing is for sure. If Premier League clubs want to protect their sacred grounds from becoming soulless, then they must build the atmosphere around the supporters and their offspring who will still be here long after the next wave of football club owners have arrived.
If not, one day it will become no different to a night out at the theatre. And no one wants that.