That evening, on Sky Sport Italia’s Tonight’s Match.
The opening music blared.
Lights focused.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Tonight’s Match!”
“I’m Paolo Di Canio.
Tonight, we focus on the headline clash.
AC Milan away at Napoli.”
The topic turned quickly to one name.
“Paolo, do you think Luca gets a start tonight?
His debut was phenomenal.” Marchetti tossed the question.
According to the pre-match squad list, Luca was included.
Paolo Di Canio, after his disastrous prediction last round, had been savaged on social media by Napoli fans.
But strangely, his ratings and visibility had skyrocketed.
He understood the attention economy.
So, risking another backlash, he doubled down on his anti-Napoli persona.
“Start?
Ha!” Di Canio laughed theatrically, dismissive.
“Luca?
A shooting star.
A flash in the dark.
Against a real giant like AC Milan, even though I hate AC Milan, his youth-team passing games will be exposed!
Napoli?
A southern team.
Some technique, but no pedigree.
No big-match character.
If Sarri starts him, he’s raising the white flag.
I bet he gets ten minutes of garbage time at most.”
Marchetti blinked at the map-wide attack and tried to smooth things over.
“Cough.
Paolo, your views are always…
unique.
But football is round.
Let’s see what happens.
Sarri has his reasons.”
The war had already ignited online.
Napoli fans were furious.
“That clown Di Canio!
All he does is spew garbage!”
“Juventus lapdog!
Can’t stand us doing well!”
“Wait until Luca smashes your face again!”
AC Milan fans, despite disliking Di Canio, united against Napoli.
“Di Canio is an idiot, but he’s not wrong.
Southerners beat a promoted side and act like they won the league.”
“Luca?
Wouldn’t start in our youth team.
Only Napoli hypes him.”
“Let’s see the San Paolo conquered.
Let these southerners learn what pedigree means.”
The comments section became a three-way brawl between Napoli fans, Milan fans, and neutrals enjoying the chaos.
Engagement exploded.
That evening, 8:30 PM, the San Paolo.
“Oh…
Wo…
Oh…!”
Over 30,000 fans in sky blue turned the stadium into a boiling ocean.
Giant tifos unfurled in the stands.
The roar was a continuous tsunami, pressing down on the visiting AC Milan players.
In the tunnel, Luca stood among his teammates.
The DJ announced the home players, each name met with thunderous cheers.
The away players were greeted with deafening boos.
“Number 66.
Luca!”
When the DJ stretched out his name, the noise peaked again.
Luca raised his right hand and waved, smiling, to all four stands.
The TV cameras gave him a long close-up.
The hero of Round 1.
Tonight’s focus.
Then the cameras caught something.
After waving, Luca did not walk toward the center circle.
He walked toward the bench.
In the Tonight’s Match studio.
“Huh?
Luca isn’t starting?” Marchetti was surprised.
What did I tell you!” Di Canio perked up, voice rising.
“Sarri hasn’t lost his mind!
He knows against a real team, a 17-year-old belongs on the bench learning, not on the pitch causing problems.
Smart choice!”
The match began.
Sarri and Milan’s coach Montella shook hands.
Montella looked puzzled.
He had prepared a detailed plan for containing Luca.
Instead, Sarri left him on the bench.
The old fox.
AC Milan lined up in a 4-3-3.
The match did not go as expected.
In the first half, Napoli dominated.
Their high press overwhelmed Milan’s midfield, especially deep-lying playmaker Riccardo Montolivo.
His technique and vision remained, but his speed and physicality were exposed under pressure.
In the 7th minute, Mertens, darting like a flea, latched onto a Hamsik through ball, beat the offside trap, and fired a low shot.
Donnarumma saved brilliantly.
The San Paolo sighed, then applauded Mertens.
The crowd became Napoli’s twelfth man.
Every Milan touch was booed.
Every Napoli turnover was cheered.
Milan’s players grew rattled.
“The tempo!
Napoli is completely on top!
Milan’s midfield is losing control!” The commentator observed.
On the bench, Luca watched intently.
His maxed-out vision showed him everything.
Montolivo’s passing was good, but his recovery runs and coverage were liabilities.
Milan’s defense opened up in transition.
But Napoli’s full-backs were also leaving space behind.
Vulnerable to counters.
His observations proved correct.
In the 18th minute, Jorginho intercepted Montolivo’s pass and split the defense with a through ball.
Insigne read it, cut diagonally into the box, and coolly finished to the far corner.
1-0.
Napoli.
The stadium erupted.
In the 39th minute, Napoli recycled possession patiently.
The ball came back to Jorginho, 30 meters out.
Milan’s defenders expected another pass.
They relaxed.
Jorginho took a touch and unleashed a missile.
The ball curled with pace, screaming toward the top left corner.
Donnarumma dove.
Too late.
Too precise.
2-0.
A world-class strike.
“Jorginho!
He is on fire tonight!
One assist, one screamer!
AC Milan is stunned!”
Jorginho sprinted to the north stand and slid on his knees in celebration.
The San Paolo exploded.
Luca leaped off the bench, waving a towel, cheering for his friend.
Halftime.
2-0.
AC Milan’s players trudged off, heads down.
Coach Montella’s face was stone.
In the Napoli locker room, Sarri praised the goalscorers but warned against complacency.
“Two-nil is not a safe.
AC Milan can counter.
Stay focused at the start of the second half.”
The second half began.
Montella had clearly made adjustments.
Milan pressed higher and countered faster.
In the 51st minute, Milan struck.
Spanish winger Suso received on the right, faced left-back Ghoulam, feinted inside, then accelerated wide.
Ghoulam turned a step slow and was beaten.
Suso drove to the byline and crossed.
French forward M’Baye Niang arrived ahead of Albiol and finished calmly.
2-1. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Milan had one back.
“Danger!
Goal!
Niang!
Milan’s counter is efficient!
Suso’s dribble was the key.
Ghoulam is struggling badly against Suso tonight!”
The goal lifted Milan.
They pressed harder.
In the 58th minute, Hamsik tried to shield the ball in midfield.
Milan’s José Sosa tackled him cleanly and fed Suso on the right.
Another long pass toward Suso’s wing.
Suso and Ghoulam challenged for the dropping ball.
Neither won it cleanly, but Suso’s agility let him control the second ball and drive at Ghoulam again.
Ghoulam was beaten.
Suso crossed.
Bacca’s shot was desperately cleared by Koulibaly.
Sarri’s brow furrowed.
Ghoulam was clearly off tonight, struggling against Suso’s technical dribbling and changes of pace.
The left flank was becoming a liability.
He turned to the bench.
“Luca!
Warm up!”
Luca sprang up, pulled off his jacket, and began sprinting and stretching on the sideline.
In the 61st minute, AC Milan won a corner.
During the stoppage, the fourth official raised the board.
Number 66 Luca on, for number 31 Ghoulam.
“A change!
Napoli makes a change!
Luca is coming on!
But…
he’s replacing left-back Ghoulam?” The commentator was surprised.
“Sarri is putting Luca at left back?
That is a very bold adjustment!”
Not just the commentators.
The entire stadium and the Milan staff were stunned.
An attacking midfielder, a 17-year-old known for technique and passing, at left back?
Has Sarri lost his mind during halftime?
In a tense moment where the lead is shrinking and the flank is being torn apart?
Ghoulam walked off, frustrated.
He high-fived Luca.
“Luca, watch that guy.
He’s fast.”
Luca patted his back.
“Don’t worry.
I’ve got him.”
He ran to Sarri.
Sarri grabbed him, speaking rapidly.
“Luca, you’re at left back.
But your job is not just defending.
I want you to use your reading and your acceleration to cut off Suso’s inside lanes early.
Do not let him build speed.
He’s faster than you.
Do not race him.
If you win the ball, or receive it deep, do not hesitate.
Look for Mertens or Insigne immediately.
Use your long passing to launch counters.
Understand?
You are a full-back, but you are also the first point of attack.
Use your vision.”
“Understood, coach.” Luca nodded, eyes sharp.
He ran to his position.
His vision opened.
He locked onto Suso.
Suso watched the baby-faced kid approach.
A flicker of confusion, then a smirk.
A midfielder converted to full-back?
A rookie?
Sarri must be desperate.
“Hey, kid,” Suso said in accented Italian.
“The left flank is wide.
You can’t stop me alone.”