On the way back, the entire team was incredibly excited.
Comebacks and derbies were undoubtedly among the most thrilling things in football.
If there was anything even more thrilling, it was coming back against a derby rival in the Champions League!
As the second-youngest team in Serie C2, Reggina had an average age of just over twenty-three.
There was not a single player born in the 1950s on the team.
In this era of rapidly advancing electronics and entertainment, young people possessed astonishing energy.
Even though they were exhausted after the match, the team still celebrated wildly when they returned to Rome.
The captain had said he would treat them, and nobody went too overboard.
Even Serie A players did not earn that outrageously much these days. If the whole team wanted to bleed him dry in a city like Rome, he would practically have to sell both kidneys.
Giovanni Capasso kept fiddling with his pager while eating, as though he had nails in his backside.
"He's getting married."
A teammate jeered.
Dejan Lu was rather speechless.
The guy was only a year older than him.
Getting married at nineteen—his whole life was already visible at a glance.
"Kid, what are you rolling your eyes for?" Bagnato nudged Dejan Lu with his elbow. "You shouldn't have turned down Riva today."
"What benefit is there in going to Cagliari? We get promoted next season, they get promoted too. If I switch to a new team and still play in Serie B, wouldn't that make the transfer pointless?"
Dejan Lu complained.
He had indeed been planning to change jobs in the summer, but the second division was never his goal.
At worst, he could go play in England.
Because of the Heysel Stadium disaster, English clubs had been banned from European competitions for five years, and they were still serving that ban.
Their tactics had already fallen behind the times.
Italian players were quite disdainful of English football. Serie A at this point truly had the right to be. Pick any top Italian team at random, and it would have one or two stars on Baggio's level, or only slightly below it. The Seven Sisters were even more outrageous, with virtually their entire squads at the level of key national-team players—far more so than the later BIG4.
By the time he got home, it was already deep into the night.
Fortunately, they could rest the next day.
One advantage of being a Serie C player was getting to enjoy the weekends.
Serie C matches were usually scheduled for Saturday or Friday.
A little after seven the next morning, his pager started beeping nonstop. Seeing that it was Old Bianchi, Dejan Lu could only drag himself up and wash.
Fuck, he had always believed that modern communication devices were the greatest obstacle to human social progress.
Later on, there would even be idiots sending messages through work apps in the middle of the night. You could not even leave them on read. Did this kind of bullshit exist in the age of landlines?
Ten minutes later, having tidied himself up, Dejan Lu mounted his ride and roared off, drawing a series of sidelong glances from the neighboring wife.
"Good morning, Alessandro."
The moment Dejan Lu entered, he greeted Old Bianchi's youngest son.
"Morning, Dejan."
Alessandro pointed toward the courtyard. "Dad's waiting for you there. It's probably not good news."
Dejan Lu smiled and waved, then headed for the backyard.
"Dejan, you're here."
Bianchi De Rosso greeted him and gestured for him to sit.
"Uncle Bianchi."
Dejan Lu said.
"The team is doing well right now." De Rosso began, "Promotion should not be a problem. I spoke with the coach and found out you played very well yesterday."
"Yes, I've recently found the right way to play."
Dejan Lu nodded.
"But I have some trouble now." Holding a teacup, De Rosso said, "If the team gets promoted, our facilities won't really meet the standard. You know Reggina has been in Serie C for many years, and the equipment has fallen into disrepair..."
At that, Dejan Lu's heart skipped a beat.
Nothing good usually came from someone crying poor.
"Uncle Bianchi, what do you mean?"
Dejan Lu asked.
"I just wanted to tell you so you could be prepared." De Rosso set down his cup. "Reggina is the local team, and I don't want to give it up, but I don't have spare money to invest right now. Recently, I've been planning to find someone to inject capital into the team and help it through this difficult period."
Dejan Lu more or less understood what Bianchi De Rosso meant.
He was mainly afraid that something might happen in the summer and the team would fail to get promoted, affecting Dejan Lu.
And here Dejan Lu had thought Old Bianchi wanted to borrow money. That was not it at all.
His uncle's friend was fairly reliable.
He had given him advance notice.
Though Lu himself had no need for it, since he was planning to change jobs in the summer.
Old Bianchi was unwilling to surrender control of his hometown club, yet he did not want to put in real money either. That was the greatest problem he faced.
Dejan Lu did not believe he lacked sufficient money.
The key was that investing in a Serie B team was not particularly worthwhile.
Investing in a Serie B team cost far more than investing in Serie C. From facilities to players, a great deal of money was needed to push for promotion to Serie A, and promotion was not even guaranteed.
Old Bianchi was mainly worried about those sunk costs.
He was afraid the team might not get promoted, yet he had still thought to notify Lu. Dejan Lu would certainly owe him for that.
After thinking for a moment, Dejan Lu said, "Uncle Bianchi, could we try a different approach?"
"What do you mean?"
De Rosso looked at him in confusion.
"Promote the team!" Dejan Lu said excitedly. "Have journalists you know write stories in the newspapers about the players. So-and-so used to be a little gangster, but he turned over a new leaf and trained hard, and his recent performances have been getting better and better. So-and-so's grandfather asked him on his deathbed to work hard at football, and even though he is only a Serie C player now, he still trains diligently every day... Then say that the Fendi Six Sisters admire a certain player's fashion sense and hope to sponsor Reggina. Or that a famous director has taken a liking to a player and wants to invite him to Hollywood..."
Bianchi De Rosso's eyes immediately lit up.
He truly feared putting in money without getting anything in return.
But Dejan Lu had given him a new line of thought.
As long as the team's stories drew attention and became famous, even if no fool came along as a sponsor or investor, his investment would still receive plenty of attention.
An image of someone devoted to his hometown would be extremely beneficial to him.
Being cousins with a Calabria mafia boss was his greatest concern.
His mindset now was much like that of those politicians.
Whenever he needed something done, he would call on his cousin. When nothing was needed, he wished his DNA had not the slightest connection to his cousin, terrified that his cousin might get locked up and drag him down with him.
Although Calabrians had a tradition of silence in prison, as a mature businessman, he knew full well that he should not trust human nature.
Now, a new path lay before him.
While building up the team's reputation, he could gradually mention his own quiet contributions. Then he could find an opportunity to have a frank talk with his cousin. In exchange for taking care of his cousin's descendants if anything happened, even if the olive oil fraud was exposed, Bianchi De Rosso would also be one of the victims.
And perhaps he could use other people's money to build his own reputation. It was not as though he was the only rich man in Calabria!
If other businessmen learned that the team was struggling and were willing to invest, the reputation would still belong to him in the end.
Just thinking about it made Old Bianchi excited.
This plan was far too workable!
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