Gianluigi Buffon was born in Carrara, the Tuscan city where they quarried the marble for Michelangelo’s David 500 years ago. Maybe even now there is a fresh slab being carved out, ready for a statue of Italy’s greatest goalkeeper, who left the international scene in tears this week after his team’s goalless draw with Sweden cost them a place in next summer’s World Cup finals but whose deeds guarantee him a place in the game’s history.
What even the most gifted sculptor could never capture would be the sheer dynamism of Buffon’s presence on a football field. You could spend an entertaining 90 minutes just watching the parade of expressions on his face, from wild-eyed fury to an urchin’s mischievous grin, and you could also admire the way he presented himself to opponents as the embodiment of both the sternest resistance and a fine generosity of spirit.
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