Gianni Clerici, writer, journalist and historical signature of Repubblica del tennis, died

Is dead Gianni Clerici: the writer, journalist and historical signature of “Repubblica” of tennis has passed away a Bellagioon Lake Como. She would have turned 92 in July.

(“I spent a lifetime / watching a ball / become over time / from very white to yellow / it bounced lightly / along the lawns of Wimbledon / it rose golden above the lime trees of Auteil / in the vermilion sunsets / of fascinated states / who believed it to be / the champion the king / but what would remain / of the Divina and Tilden / of McEnroe and Martina / without that ball / people tell me / busy educated / how did you / to waste your native skills / for a vain life / maybe they will be right / but each has his own religion “).

So he wrote in one of his latest books, “Posthumous in life“. His words. There are moments in life when pain prevails. Better, much better, silence. On the other hand, Gianni had already written everything, even about himself:” As for me, I think I can compare the my story to that of a man who, having found a scrap of music, realized that he had in front of the notes of a sublime symphony dispersed for the Capriccio degli dei and felt compelled to mend the entire composition as much as possible : that’s what I tried to do alone, and with the help of other enthusiasts “.

Gianni, a teacher for entire generations

Well, he forged an army, knowingly or unknowingly: a couple of generations of tennis fans, and aspiring tennis journalists. You have shown us all the high road. And we will always be infinitely grateful to him. But perhaps all this is even an understatement to tell the greatness, the lesson. Not just sports, not just tennis.

Who was Gianni? For Brera it was homo burgenses comecinus. His words can be espoused by everyone: “He considered himself devoted to the Letters, cultivating them with loving inconstancy. Because to consider oneself devoted to the Letters means to see clearly in oneself, but not to the point of ignoring that genius requires patient effort, and Gianni Clerici he is more often brilliant when he gets impatient and his friends know it, but they do not neglect to harass him with authentic practical intimidation “.

He was subtle and fragile, his prose was powerful

Obviously, he too was among the oppressors, the other great Giuan, who had opened the third page of the old Gazzetta dello Sport to him and was proud of it. “Gianni Clerici has the burgenses condition that easily allowed his father to keep him too but, being a frank Comacino, certain prides of a practical nature could not train them from his own soul so Gianni is a regular journalist and correspondent for a large newspaper. His specialization has always been tennis, he wrote about it with full knowledge of the facts, never giving up a technically exact concept for a literally flattering phrase. The little boy Clerici discovered his game: he was thin and almost puny, and other sports outside of swimming did not suit him the whole year. Physical pride led him to suffer until he became skilful as few, and when then Gianni had to choose between the slouching Centromedian of the Boys of Como football and the elegant tennis livery Club Como, the football coach himself recommended him for tennis. Unfortunately Clerici he was a natural athlete, but not solid enough to guarantee an ace in Italian tennis. However, the competitive spirit of the First category led him to get to know all the environments and champions of world tennis, helping to distinguish every stylistic attitude. The particular love for letters, and the journalistic deviation, made Clerici one of the best prepared and effective critics in the world to write a treatise, albeit a very simple one. He smiled at the idea that very young readers would enter the fateful enclosure, having a clear idea of ​​the sport they were about to choose and that they would hold the racket knowing at least the fundamental strokes “.

Holy words. Indeed, sacrosanct. The words of Gianni Clerici are there to testify, today and forever, all dipped in ink. Whether they were articles, or books. Every breath, every thought of Gianni Clerici (even in the commentary) was a commercial for tennis. A hymn to his beauty of this sport of which he was a champion of disclosure. Now the White Gestures can rest in the house up there, in the high heavens.

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