It's 8:43 p.m. on Tuesday, March 13 when I position myself in front of the computer. The anticipation is always there: the Olimpico packed to the rafters, the chants, the colors, that bright and passionate fervor that builds before the big matches. But this time, something else is in the air. Eyes fixed on the screen, I'm not just waiting for the eleven players ready to take the field for the Champions League match—I'm looking for Benedetta. And right on cue, there she is.
That March 13, before Roma faced Ukraine's Shakhtar Donetsk in a Champions League round-of-16 tie, the Olimpico pitch filled with Roma players escorting children with disabilities. It was unprecedented in football. While it's become standard for young players from the opposing team to accompany athletes as they enter the field, the sight of children with Down syndrome, children on the autism spectrum, children with other conditions—their joy and enthusiasm radiating across that pitch—was extraordinary. Margherita and Benedetta stood out among them all. Unselfconscious and unafraid, utterly unbothered by the roaring stadium: these girls moved as if they'd spent their whole lives walking through crowds of cheering fans.
On my desk at work, I keep a photo from that remarkable evening—Benedetta with Aleksándar Kolárov, Margherita with Radja Nainggolan. The image tells the story of these singular pairings, which Giampaolo Mattei recounted in the pages of L'Osservatore Romano. These weren't chance encounters or momentary impulses. Roma is, in fact, the only club in the world to have created—and to be carrying forward—a project called "Calcio Insieme" (Football Together).
The initiative brings sixty children with physical and intellectual disabilities to train alongside their peers in Roma's youth academies. Who benefits most is impossible to say. "Probably all of them equally," Roma's general director Mauro Baldissoni answered without hesitation when Mattei posed the question. Two years earlier, Baldissoni had championed this pilot project, placing it under the care of the Integrated Football Academy. The initiative, rightfully considered the jewel of all Roma Cares' social programs, "allows us," Baldissoni continued, "to give back to the community—especially to those who need it most—something of our capacity to integrate different realities in our city and to support these young people and their families."
What truly sets this project apart, though, is its rigor. There's welcome, care, passion, and altruism—essential ingredients, yet often insufficient when disability is at stake. What matters is that all of this is grounded and held together by intelligence.
The program's young participants are accompanied by a team of ten qualified coaches from the Roma organization. Working alongside pedagogist Maresa Bavota, who handles family relations—and who coordinates with special education teachers—are four sports psychologists, a speech-language pathologist, and a scientific director: "all specialized volunteers," Mattei explains, who "with sensitivity and expertise stand beside the young people, encouraging and guiding them every step of the way." There is no room for improvisation or carelessness. "Before taking the field, the team studied new, engaging teaching methods in depth." Roma announced that results from this experiment would be published. Because love and intelligence might actually transform how things are done.
Seeds have clearly been planted. Today, Baldissoni confides to Mattei, "the project's greatest success is a twelve-year-old boy, a real prospect, who at the end of training asks to stay and kick the ball around with the group of kids who are far less skilled than he is, yet who share his passion." Roma won. And it wasn't only against Shakhtar Donetsk.
Giulia Galeotti, 2018