(The tape recorder clicks on. There’s a calendar on the wall with the 13th of May circled in gold marker. Underneath it, in smaller writing, I’ve added: “Olimpico. Him. Finally.”)
Act I: So Close in Paris, So Close at Home
Wednesday 8th April, Paris, first leg of the Champions League quarter-final. Ousmane Dembélé settled it early with a well-struck effort off the post in the 18th minute, and for all we had the better share of possession, we couldn’t find a way past a PSG side content to sit in and pick their moment. PSG 1, Fiorentina 0. Marc Pubill picked up a booking that would rule him out of the second leg — a genuinely painful bit of timing given what was coming.
A week later, back at the Franchi in front of 43,189 people, we produced one of the great European nights this club has had in years. João Neves put PSG ahead again, but Piero Hincapié levelled it with a volley from inside the six-yard box that earned him an 8.1 and the man of the match award. Then Samu Omorodion pounced on a mistake from Vitinha to smash us in front on the night — Fiorentina 2, PSG 1, level on aggregate at 2-2, and the Franchi was absolutely bouncing. We lost Valentín Carboni to a hamstring injury midway through the second half, which took some of the shine off it, but we held on through extra time and forced a shootout.
Thirteen rounds. Thirteen. Both sides missed early — Désiré Doué for PSG, Rolando Mandragora for us — and then it just kept going, kick after kick after kick, until it came down to Lorenzo Lucca, our top scorer, the man who’s spent all season either scoring spectacular goals or missing sitters in equal measure, stepping up to take the one that would send us through to a Champions League semi-final. He missed. PSG went through. I genuinely don’t think there was a single person inside that stadium who didn’t feel their stomach drop with him. It’s a cruel way to go out of a competition we had absolutely no right to still be in by April, and also the honest, fitting way for this squad’s whole season to be summarised in one moment.
Act II: Guðmundsson’s Reminder
We didn’t have long to sulk. Saturday 18th April, Atalanta at home, and what followed was one of the maddest league matches of the season. Albert Guðmundsson — who’d been quietly nudged down the pecking order in recent weeks — scored a hat-trick. A freak opener in the 31st minute, a clean finish just before half-time, and a close-range strike in the 91st to complete it, sandwiched around Atalanta twice pulling level through Amadou Onana and Tommaso Baldanzi. Samu Omorodion put us back in front at 87 minutes, and Riccardo Sottil added a fifth in the 94th before Atalanta grabbed a late consolation through Lazar Samardžić. Fiorentina 5, Atalanta 3. An absolute rollercoaster, and exactly the response I wanted to see four days after Paris. We’re up to 70 points and second in the table, and Guðmundsson has just reminded everyone, myself included, exactly what he’s capable of when he gets a run out.
Act III: Down, Nearly Out, and Somehow Through
If that wasn’t enough drama for one month, Wednesday 22nd April gave us the Coppa Italia semi-final second leg at Napoli, and it was, without exaggeration, one of the wildest ninety-plus-thirty minutes of football I’ve ever managed. Federico Chiesa — a former player of ours, to his enormous credit he didn’t celebrate — put Napoli ahead early. Then Samu Omorodion gifted them a second through a genuinely dreadful error, and by half-time we were staring down the barrel of 2-0 down, needing something special just to survive the tie.
Omorodion atoned for his mistake with a header right before the break to make it 2-1. Napoli’s Antoine Semenyo restored their two-goal cushion with a brilliant solo effort on 72 minutes — 3-1, and I honestly thought that was that. Then Endrick, playing out of position up front, pulled one back on 85 minutes. Lorenzo Lucca — yes, him again, redemption arriving four days late but arriving nonetheless — equalised through a VAR-assisted finish to drag us to 3-3 and force extra time. And in the 118th minute, Endrick struck the winner. Napoli 3, Fiorentina 4. Aggregate: 7-6. We are into the Coppa Italia final.
Act IV: The Final Nobody Could Have Scripted
Here’s the part I still can’t quite believe. In the other semi-final, Lazio needed penalties of their own to get past Inter — 2-2 on aggregate after Lorenzo Pellegrini equalised deep into extra time, before Iain’s side won the shootout 5-4. Which means the Coppa Italia final, at the Olimpico, on the 13th of May, is Fiorentina against Lazio. Against Iain. The man who’s been chirping in my DMs all season, the man whose side already beat Manchester City and Inter in this competition’s bigger cousin, the man I have spent this entire campaign trying not to think about too much — and now it all comes down to one match, on his own ground, with a trophy on the line. Fittingly, we’ve been here before: Fiorentina beat Lazio in the very first Coppa Italia final back in 1961. I like the symmetry. I intend to keep it going.
Next time: Monza away in the league, with the 13th of May now the single biggest date on the calendar.
