I saw Gigi Riva walking in via Paoli. The myth is in a nutshell. What the people of Cagliari, the Sardinians, said to their friends after meeting in that street in the city centre. It lies in the normality of the walk of that tall man, who protected himself from the cold with a loden jacket, and wore dark glasses with shaded lenses. And he held a cigarette between his lips.

They renamed it Thunderclap. No one has ever scored as much as he did with the Italian national team. He made Cagliari win the scudetto in 1970. He rejected the big teams, that's what they called them. And he said no to their money. More than half a century has passed since then.

And yet: "I saw Gigi Riva" we were still told. Anyone who had seen him play did it and knocked down the goal with his left foot. But the children of those who were there at Amsicora also said it. Because when they were little, their parents pointed to him: "Look, there's Gigi Riva." On the street, Sardinian among Sardinians.

«Hi Gigi». «Good morning Gigi». «Great Gigi». Everyone greeted him, absolutely everyone. And an answer came, a nod. It depended on the mood. Sometimes a smile. Rare, and always askew. There was no need to disturb him any further.

It had happened once, not far from via Paoli, in via Dante, that an elderly lady arm in arm with a younger woman had passed him on the sidewalk. She had stared up at him. No greeting. Then, after taking a few steps, when she could no longer be heard, she gave her companion a knowing look: "It's still beautiful, isn't it?"

This is what Gigi Riva was in Cagliari: a hero who walked among the people.

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