Date: Jan 6th, 1998
The Argentine of Florence presents his testimony in a book that reveals his thoughts about the world of football. In "Yo Batigol cuento a Batistuta" the striker speaks of Passarella, Maradona, River, Boca and the national team. In this exclusive, we bring you a preview.
There is a small town in Santa Fe where everyone becomes angered when they read that Gabriel Batistuta is the Champion from Reconquista. It is Avellaneda. And they have reason to react like this, because it is there that I was born on the first day of February 1969 and lived the first six years of my life. There when from time to time I return, I note the bad humor for having been forgotten. And to those who complain, I respond: Avellaneda and Recoquista are the same people with identical hearts. Beginnings
Football entered my life for the first time with a poster that a friend, Pitti Lorenzini, gave me as a gift. It was of Diego Maradona and was from an edition of El Grafico. I put it on the wall of my room… At 16 years old, I was a boy with few muscles, a little overweight, already weighing 82 kilos. It was not a coincidence that they called me "Gordo." [Fat] And I was also tall.
I began playing football casually, in secondary school. In Argentina, every year, they organized inter-school leagues, and in the school where I studied, ENET, there were true stars in football and basketball. So, with my ability to play, I was accepted in the team, and it soon transformed into the true pride of the school.
In Reconquista, I soon began to play in the Grupo Alegria, which was a team of the neighborhood and after in Platense, whose football field was 500 meters from my house. Playing in Platense, they selected me for the juvenile team of Reconquista that arrived at the finals of the Provincial Championship. Our rival was Newell's Old Boys, and we won. It was there where Jorge Griffa saw me for the first time. There were two games and I played very well. But it was a friendly game against the Argentina Juvenile National Team that convinced him of my value. Against us was the brother of Maradona, Hugo, Redondo, and Fabbri. I was the center forward of the Reconquista team. We won 2 to l and I made both goals. In Rosario, Griffa asked me if I would like to play for Newell's. I answered yes, thinking that it had been only a casual chat. I almost forgot about it, when, one day, we got a phone call from Griffa. I didn't know what to do, hoping secretly that my father would say no, that he couldn't imagine me as a football player. However, he was very clear. "If you want to go, then go. But I can't help you with money." And more yet with Griffa: "I am sending Gabriel to you, but you have to make him study." I went to Rosario, made a test, and when I returned, I was not convinced they would sign me. Newell's
I began well with River, but in December 1989, Merlo left and in his place arrived Daniel Passarella. This began the most difficult period of my football career. We went to Mar del Plata for preseason training, and from the first practice I understood that I would not have an easy life. Passarella divided us into two teams: those who had played with me before he put on one side, and me on the other. It was the first time he put me off and put in my place Medina Bello or Da Silva, who had arrived with him. It got to the extreme that on the evening before the Thursday practice game, I would diet rigidly, and prepare myself psychologically, and on Thursday I always made goals against the starting team. But in those six months I never played, not even one minute [in a league game], the coach never even put me on the substitute's bench. In June, I went to speak with Passarella and announced my decision. I remember only one phrase of his: "Think well, this is River." I had thought for six months. I went on the market. Newell's wanted to get me back at any cost, and Aloisio played on this to take me to Boca. He went to the president of River and told him a lie, that I was going back to Newell's. If he had told the truth that I was going to Boca they would not have let me go. Boca Juniors At first, my training was a disaster, but in January 1991 Oscar Washington Tabarez "El Maestro" arrived. He understood what was my true position on the field: he put me in the center of the attack, and from those first friendly games on, he never took me out. El Maestro gave me a confidence that I didn't have in the past. I began to score goals and didn't stop. Everything had become easier. Latorre always knew where to place the ball. It was enough to signal with my eyes, and the ball would arrive just where I wanted it. In those six months, Boca won all. And I made goals in succession at Passarella's River Plate. We played a game in Chile that I will never forget. At Colo Colo for the Copa Libertadores. It was a battle. At the end it seemed that we were 20 (including substitutes and coaches) against the entire stadium. It was the first time I saw Tabarez furious. Then the police arrived with their dogs and there was a risk of transforming into a tragedy. Basile
The National Team gave me the chance to meet a man who will always have a place in my heart. It is Alfio Basile. During his tenure, I missed only one game, against Ecuador, but he had good reasons to leave me out. He was a coach who always gave me confidence and courage, and who left me on the team even when I failed to score goals in six games.
Maradona
The first times I played with him, I didn't understand. His speed and thinking were supersonic. When he had the ball, I wouldn't make the run because I thought that he wouldn't have time to pass it where I wanted it. And, without fail, the ball arrived just in my preferred place, only I wasn't there by my own fault. In the first two games we didn't function together, but later we did, and it was very enjoyable. In the World Cup [1994], I was on his side because he was our chief, our charismatic leader and the essential point of reference for the national team. Passarella Part II After the World Cup in the United States, Passarella arrived as national team coach. As coach, I met him for the first time in Florence, in the dressing rooms of Franchi Stadium. He had come to speak with the internationals playing in Europe. When the eliminations for the 1998 World Cup began, I hoped to play some more games. However, in this long tournament to get to France '98, I only played the first round and remained 300 days outside la Seleccion. Final Curtain in Boca
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