George Negus passed away at 82, and Lorenzo Bettoni pays tribute to the legendary Australian journalist who, for a bizarre coincidence, was the first to take him to a big stadium for a top European match.
I was only 11 years old when George Negus, his wife Kirsty, and his sons, Serge and Ned, moved to my hometown San Giovanni Valdarno, a little village between Arezzo and Florence in Tuscany.
It was 1999. There was no internet then, or at least it was pretty hard to have a stable connection at home. My family and I knew George had taken a break from his work as a journalist in Australia to enjoy the Tuscan and Italian life and write a book. We didn’t know how famous he was. To me, he was just George.
His younger son Serge and my brother Tommaso played on the same youth football team at Sangiovannese, so our families would spend many Sunday mornings together watching their games. George was passionate about everything Italian: food, art, wine, culture, and football, especially football.
The beautiful game was the common ground. George and his family were fascinated by Italian players and Serie A, the best league in the world then. At the same time, my brothers and I would ask questions about legendary Australian duo Mark Viduka and Harry Kewell, who were shining with Leeds United in the English Premier League that season. This is how mutual knowledge started.
Obviously, during those years, we also played football, like any Italian kid, in parks or on the streets. This was also a big part of Italian culture, and George could see it first-hand by watching his children play with me, my brothers and friends, and tens of other kids, who spent entire days kicking a football after school.
He wrote about all these things in his book, ‘The World from Italy,’ which has a picture of San Giovanni’s Valdarno’s main square on its cover. What a privilege.
The first time I went to a big stadium for a big European match was in March 2000 with George, Ned, Serge, and one of my brothers, Tommaso. It was at the Stadio Franchi for Fiorentina-Valencia in the Champions League. The Viola won 1-0 thanks to a Predrag Mijatović penalty. Most of the game was played under heavy rain.
I remember getting to the Franchi was uncomfortable, but the stadium was packed and loud, and perhaps it was the first time I thought I wanted to breathe that same atmosphere as many times as possible. George had inspired me without even mentioning what he was doing for a living.
When I found out—thank you, internet—many years later, nothing really changed. George was always George. Not ‘just’ a ‘giant of Australian journalism,’ as Australia PM Anthony Albanese has described him, but a brilliant man who moved to an unknown Italian village with his family to watch the world from a different perspective and inspire the lives of those who were lucky enough to meet him. Grazie, George.
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