A prose story, halfway between myth and tragedy, of Gigi Meroni, the “Italian George Best” or “the Granata Butterfly,” who died at just 24 years old when he was hit by a car driven by Attilio Romero — the same man who, decades later, would become president of Torino.
To insult him, people would say he was incapable of growing up, that he would always live like a perpetual twenty-year-old. But Gigi Meroni was not offended — he took it as a compliment.
He had long hair, a beard, and sideburns. He wore clothes he designed himself, listened to the Beatles and jazz, read books, painted, and wrote poetry. He lived with a married woman, whose marriage he once tried unsuccessfully to break up by storming into the church during the ceremony. He drove a yellow-upholstered Fiat Balilla with gold-painted headlights. He walked a chicken on a leash and once disguised himself as a journalist just to ask people what they thought of Gigi Meroni.
He was Gigi Meroni — as far removed from the stereotypical footballer as one could imagine.
They called him “the butterfly” for his agility, his lightness in dribbling past opponents, and for his lifestyle that clashed with the moral standards of a conservative society. He was often compared to his contemporary — and far more famous — Irish footballer George Best, both for his playing style and his life off the pitch.
Coach Fabbri wanted him in the national team; all he needed was a haircut. Meroni, naturally, refused the call-up.
He played for Torino, but Gianni Agnelli wanted to bring him to the other side of the city at all costs — or almost. He eventually gave up when Torino fans flooded the streets to defend their idol. It was also said that FIAT 128 cars leaving the Lingotto factory were being scratched by “granata workers” loyal to him.
He died at just 24 years old, on October 15, 1967, struck by a car driven by Attilio Romero, who decades later would become president of Torino. Moralistic voices harshly attacked the priest who officiated his funeral, accusing him of granting religious rites to a young man with a “dissolute” life.
The following Sunday, Torino faced Juventus. Meroni had predicted a victory and a goal from his friend Combin. The match ended 4–0 for Torino — a result they would never replicate again. Combin played despite a fever to honor his teammate and scored a hat-trick; the fourth goal was scored by the young Carelli, wearing the number 7 of the Granata Butterfly.
Goodbye Gigi — keep flying lightly above the puritanical hypocrisy that clouds our narrow minds.