RUI COSTA: THE SLICK PRINCE WHO BECAME A KING IN ITALY
In Italy, Fiorentina were building a formidable side. A sleeping giant was about to wake up in the birthplace of Leonardo da Vinci, with the club’s recent signings, Brian Laudup, Francesco Baiano and Gabriel Batistuta, helping them gain promotion to Serie A. Rui Costa signed in 1994 to aid them on their return to the top-flight. They were all set up for their own Renaissance with Claudio Ranieri at the helm.
In a league full of world-class number 10s, Costa quickly emerged as the preeminent alongside Zinedine Zidane, after taking over the shirt from Roberto Baggio, no small task in itself. With beguiling grace and mesmerising artistry, he was the fully packaged playmaker, capable of making a palace out of paper and tape. In a team that was lacking in defence and didn’t fare much better in the middle, Batistuta and Costa were an attacking phenomenon, zigging in a league that chose to zag.
Their telepathic bond quickly consolidated them as the Serie A’s most formidable and iconic duo, the complete number 9 and 10. Their partnership was not unlike Manchester United’s Dwight Yorke and Andy Cole. They were brothers-in-arms, with the instinct of a killer and the mesmerising quality of two virtuoso talents running wild. Italian football is traditionally conservative and defence-minded, but the Florentine side built their mid-1990s success on the strength of their attack.
Together, the duo not only won two Coppa Italias and one Supercoppa Italiana, but they looked great doing it. Costa will be remembered as much for what he achieved as for how he achieved it. The way he played looked effortless, and in a way it became so over time, but it was his work-rate and football academy upbringing that nurtured his talent. The way he looked on the park might have seemed effortless too, but that wasn’t the case.
The Italian’s call it sprezzatura, making something look like no thought or effort went into it, when in fact, it had. Before a game, everything had to sit right – the oil in the hair, the tape under the knee, the rolled down socks and the half tucked-in shirt. He was the embodiment of Italian football style, giving him the reckless air of a true maverick roaming the field. His style would influence a whole generation of young boys that watched Football Italia religiously every weekend, glued to their screens and trying to emulate him at their local park.
His style served a purpose; when everything sat right, what happened on the pitch became instinctual. His pre-match rituals freed his mind, allowing him to operate on what often seemed like a subconscious level on the park. This nonchalance combined with his passion made him an enigmatic player with a devoted cult following at Fiorentina. From the city once run by the Medici family and strategized in Niccolò Machiavelli’s The Prince, it was fitting that the man who was the apotheosis of footballing grace and tactical craft would come to be known as The Prince of Florence, and when Batistuta left for Rome in 2000, he was the heir to the captain’s throne.
Whenever Rui Costa had the ball, there was a feeling that anything could happen, such was the unpredictable nature of his game. His trenchant passes came a second before it was anticipated, wrong-footing many defenders and goalkeepers with its’ off-beat syncopated timing. This was best exemplified when Portugal took on England at Euro 2000. Down 2-0 early on in the match, Costa came alive with his wizardry of spherical physics assisting three goals to provide the win. The third through ball that set up Nuno Gomes was of vision and precision rarely witnessed since the construction of the Egyptian pyramids.
In 2001, then-manager of Fiorentina Fatih Terim, or Imperatore, took over at AC Milan, bringing Costa with him for just under €44 million, an offer Fiorentina couldn’t refuse given their own financial difficulties. Costa would swap Batistuta for Filippo Inzaghi and Inzaghi would swap Zinedine Zidane for Costa, who made a comment on signing for his new club that Costa was the superior player to Zidane, an eternal debate in Italian football, similar to Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi now. Costa and Zidane played similar roles, and there is no questioning Zidane’s genius throughout his career, but in their heyday in the Serie A, it was Costa that seemed to excite and appeal on a more visceral level. Where Zidane played from his head, Costa played from his heart and that resonated deeply with Italian fans.
Italian football lives and dies by their defence, a philosophy developed since time immemorial by managers like Helenio Herrera and lauded by classic calcio writers like Gazzetto dello Sport’s Gianni Brera. Milan were solid at the back with Paolo Maldini and Alessandro Costacurta, but it was Costa’s job to add some attacking flair to the famous defender’s grit. The north of Italy already had Ferrari, Lamborghini, Maserati, and now it had Rui Costa. He was the gleaming paint job, the roar of the engine and the effortless blur in the eyes of defenders.
In Milan he picked up another nickname, Il Maestro, alluding to the leader of a classical music ensemble or opera. The thing is, he wasn’t so much the classical conductor as he was the spontaneous jazz musician. He roved free without restraints, abiding to no particular time signature nor scale, inhabiting a number 10 role that has seen a steady decline in the last decade, making way for a more central attacking role for the number.
Rui Costa’s time at the Rossoneri never quite reached the hoped-for peaks that were expected from a superstar entering a supercharged squad, but by no means was it a failed venture. During his time there he managed to add more silverware to his personal collection, including a Champion’s League trophy in 2003.
Rui Costa came up against Zidane, as part of Real Madrid’s Galácticos, in the group stage of the tournament. Milan won the group, thanks in part to a 1-0 home win that featured Rui Costa’s fan-favourite pass. Before the stroke of half-time and behind his own centre circle, his picked out a solo Andriy Shevchenko with a heat seeking pass along the ground, splitting the four defenders in their own half that could never have anticipated the move. [Think Sosa and Weah bursting on to that] His seeming prescience of the movements of his own and opposing team-mates marked him as one of a kind – at the time he was the best passer of a football in the world.
Read more at:
https://thesefootballtimes.co/2017/02/20/rui-costa-the-slick-prince-who-became-a-king-in-italy/
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