Giancarlo Abete's bid for the presidency of the Italian Football Federation (FIGC) is not just a personal ambition—it is a direct challenge to a power structure that he believes has failed to evolve since the Calciopoli scandal. Speaking at the screening of a Lega Nazionale Dilettanti (LND) project on inclusion at Italy's Chamber of Deputies, the current LND president pulled no punches in describing the structural flaws that still paralyze the federation two decades after the match-fixing crisis reshaped Italian football.
Abete, a seasoned administrator who previously led the FIGC from 2007 to 2014, has entered the race to force a conversation about governance. "Beyond the quality of the president, the real issue is the capacity for relations between the components," he stated, highlighting how the president's decision-making is hamstrung by veto rights and mandatory consensus. In his view, the real showdown must happen between the various souls of the football world—the leagues, the players, the coaches—rather than resting on a single figurehead.
The reference to Calciopoli is both historical and painfully contemporary. "We had to wait for Calciopoli to get a modification of a rule that, through the veto right, prevented the election of a president under normal democratic debate," Abete recalled. The scandal, which erupted in 2006 and led to Juventus being stripped of titles and relegated, forced a redrawing of the federation's statutes to break deadlocks. Yet Abete argues that the reforms did not go far enough; the same veto mechanisms now block meaningful change and leave the president as a mediator rather than a leader.
His candidacy is therefore a provocation aimed at exposing the flaws in the selection process itself. Abete made clear that his entry into the race was to "contest the way the person was identified," a method that, he says, prevented a focus on the quality of relationships and the ability to find synthesis among the components. For Abete, the discussion must transcend the identity of the next president and tackle how the federation makes decisions. He insists that either the various factions take a step back and empower the presidency to act, or outside forces will impose changes.
That warning was explicit: "Either we will have the capacity to take a step back as components and a step forward in the capacity for synthesis, or other parties will come and impose modifications on the current situation." He clarified that he was not only referring to a possible government-imposed commissariamento (administration), but also to the Italian Olympic Committee (CONI) using its authority to modify norms that would then bind all 48 sports federations, including the FIGC. The specter of external intervention hangs over a federation that has often been criticized for internal politicking.
On the sporting front, Abete addressed the hot topic of the next Italy coach. The name of Pep Guardiola has floated in media speculation as a dream candidate, and Abete did not deny the Catalan's stature: "Guardiola is Guardiola, there's no need for me to say that." However, he quickly pivoted to champion homegrown talent, stating that "there are quality Italian coaches" and declining to go further into the debate. The comment signals a preference for a domestic solution—perhaps a diplomatic nudge to the federation's decision-makers who will soon appoint Roberto Mancini's permanent successor.
Abete's remarks come at a delicate moment. The FIGC is navigating a post-European Championship landscape, with the national team seeking stability under a new technical lead, while the domestic league deals with financial pressures and governance disputes. The position of current president Gabriele Gravina, who is expected to seek re-election, has faced opposition from several quarters, making the election a potential flashpoint. Abete's candidacy, though from the amateur league, is not that of an outsider; his deep institutional roots give him credibility to critique a system he knows intimately.
The underlying question Abete raises is whether Italian football can reform itself from within. The Calciopoli aftereffects created a governance model designed to prevent concentration of power, but critics say it has instead produced paralysis. The veto right that once protected clubs from overreach now allows any component to block initiatives, from financial redistribution to calendar reforms. Abete's message is clear: without a cultural shift toward compromise, the federation will remain in a stalemate—or be forced to change by law.
For the wider football community, Abete's intervention injects urgency into the FIGC presidential campaign. It underscores that the election is not merely about personalities but about the rules of engagement that have governed Italian football since its most traumatic episode. The mention of Guardiola adds a layer of popular appeal, but the core of Abete's speech was a sober institutional warning. As Italy prepares to choose its football leader, the echoes of Calciopoli serve as a reminder that reforms born from crisis can themselves become cages.
Based on reporting from Tuttosport.