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By Root 347 0

as an unquestioned regular fullback; there was a young man that the team saw as having a great deal of potential. They gave Demetrio Albertini many more options than they gave me. When Rijkaard was injured, I started a number of matches in midfield up until November, but then I felt like I’d been caught in a game of Monopoly: from the pitch to the stands, without passing “Go.” Or stopping at the bench. Four months sitting there as a thoughtful spectator—in the sense that if you’re sitting there watching others play the game you want to play, you have a lot of time to think. In fact, that’s where I made my decision, sitting on the folding seats of the stadiums of half of Italy: I’m out of here.

The first season without Sacchi was destined to be my last with A. C. Milan. At first, I had a hard time accepting that I was relegated to being an extra, playing the occasional cameo role, and then I understood. Capello was a very serious manager, he demanded discipline and understood intuitively how to shape his team to disrupt his opponents’ play. He was a master at reading a match; that was his strongest skill. From that point of view, I had to tip my hat to him. But as a human being—well, that’s another matter. He was a grouch, he didn’t know how to talk to players, and, most importantly, he didn’t like discussing technical matters with us. A dialectical exchange of views on strategy was alien to him, and so it never happened. Maybe that’s why there were so many verbal clashes with the players. Maybe that’s why one day Gullit hung him up on the wall in the Milanello locker room. Once again, I had to tip my hat, but the Italian for hat is “cappello,” and Capello was dangling from a hat rack—it almost seemed predestined–dangling with his shoes just a few inches from the floor. (Before then, I’d only seen something of the sort in Rome, when Liedholm, by himself, had lifted Turone and Pruzzo off the ground by their necks during an argument.) Anyway, that’s how it went that time in Milanello.

Capello, reading the newspaper: “Ruud, you said things here that weren’t true. You’re a liar.”

Gullit, without reading the newspaper: “Now I’m going to set you straight.”

Brawl. I’m pretty sure that a lot of the players were rooting for Gullit, but we all pitched in and separated them.

But to Capello’s credit, after anything of the sort happened he just canceled it from his memory. As if nothing had happened. He started over from nothing. He pretended not to remember, for the good of the team. And for his own good. I have to say that there are times when I am just like him. As a coach, I have witnessed a great many arguments between players; it’s routine. Usually, I just watch; I keep my distance. If the argument drags out, I intervene; otherwise, I wait for them to resolve it on their own. When Clarence Seedorf first joined A. C. Milan, he would pick fights with everyone. It was one quarrel after another with his teammates, especially during the first year. Clarence likes to talk a lot, and he likes to talk about soccer. At first, since he was a new player, this habit of talking freely wasn’t particularly welcome. He was considered a know-it-all, an egotist—somebody who would always tell you how to do it better. Kaladze and Rui Costa couldn’t stand him. Just days after he arrived in Milanello, Seedorf already wanted to tell Rui Costa how to take the field and how to play. No one wanted to acknowledge his leadership because he was a new recruit. Over time, though, things improved. Because, in reality, Clarence is a leader. He rallies the team in the locker room.

I was still a midfielder, but I was already thinking like a coach during that last year of my career as a player. This helped me a great deal psychologically: on the one hand, I knew that I was about to leave an enchanted world; on the other hand, my future was fully mapped out. During that season, I had the time to understand clearly what I wanted to do. The idea of becoming assistant coach to Sacchi was exciting. When Capello sent me up into the bleachers, in my mind I had an answer