Napoli is champion of Italy and is the feast of the South. In other times we could have spoken of epochal revenge, in the eternal tiramolla with the North, a miserly stepfather. Nowadays it's a bit too much: the blue flags in the wind from via Caracciolo to via Toledo in Spaccanapoli until late at night are enough, a synthesis of a faith that unites millions of people all over the world.

In Fuorigrotta, where the party was broadcast directly from Udine, the third championship was awaited with all possible superstition. Fifty thousand stormed the Maradona stands, where giant screens were set up, to participate in an unexpected goal on the eve, but which the blue people feel as theirs. It must be said: the draw with Salernitana on Sunday and the victory of Lazio on Wednesday had choked the cry of an entire city in the throat. Lovric took care of it, with Udinese's goal, to show the witches to millions of Neapolitan hearts before Osimhen put things back in order, scoring the 1-1 and putting the mask back in exultation.

Naples has become even more an open-air theater: those who are lucky enough to be in the Spanish Quarters or Vomero or Sanità in these hours tell of a riot of blue flags and hymns to the joy of living. The figure of the God of Football remains predominant: it almost seemed as if Maradona had pushed Spalletti's team together with his people towards a goal pursued for 33 years.

In fact, the last and penultimate time he was there too, with that number ten shirt which was later inherited by a great Sardinian, Gianfranco Zola. The legendary names of Garella and Giuliani, of De Napoli or Fusi, of Careca, Giordano and Carnevale will perhaps only be printed on the Panini stickers of the time. But there remain pillars of a story which, from the time of the very president Corrado Ferlaino to today, when the De Laurentiis presidency is about to reach twenty years of age, have made a magical environment fantastic, not only for the happy ending. Napoli deserved the Scudetto: in fact, they swept it away. For months, the Osimhen cake and spritz have been on sale in pastry shops and bars. And the Kvaratskhelia shirts with the shield sewn on the chest already in January are the most discreet aspects of a splendid true fairy tale: the fireworks that dressed up Vesuvius in celebration are nothing more than a repeating story. A southern story finally winning.

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