The former president: “I cried over the relegation to Serie B. When Gilardino was fired—without my knowing it—I realized my time there was over. Now I’m rooting for De Rossi”
“In my life, I’ve nurtured two great passions: medicine and Genoa. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Genoa. Professional soccer is the furthest thing possible from love for the jersey, and yet during my presidency, I had 30 more ‘sons.’” Alberto Zangrillo hasn’t been at the helm of his favorite team for nearly a year, but he hasn’t stopped being deeply in love with it—and he never will. An unbreakable bond that goes beyond the disappointment and suffering of recent times.
Zangrillo, how did you become a Genoa fan?
“As a kid in the ’70s, I used to go watch training sessions at Sant’Olcese. In 1988, I was in Modena for the playoff match that saved us from relegation to Serie C. That year, my first son, Andrea, was born—the biggest Genoa fan I know. Yet Andrea has now lost the desire to go to the stadium.”
Was it the same for you?
“There’s a lot of bitterness about what happened, but I’m very understanding, and I won’t give up on Genoa. I bought my season ticket online, even though the ticket office staff had been ordered not to sell it to me because I’m persona non grata at the club: my gesture had been interpreted as a provocation. When I go to the Ferraris, the Genoa employees I pass look down so they won’t be caught greeting me. I understand them and I forgive them. When I was still on the board of directors, they took away my parking pass and gave me tickets in the visitors’ section. These are all signs, aren’t they? I’m very disappointed; they were three wonderful years during which I was able to put my own spin on being a “fan-president”—a role that’s practically an endangered species. I’m leaving defeated, but with the pride of having helped generate enthusiasm to bring young fans to the stadium.”

Can you tell us what happened?
“In the spring of 2024, there was an irreconcilable rift with the club’s top management. I was in constant communication with those who continued to provide financial support to Genoa; my point of contact was A CAP’s banking advisor. Then there was the capital increase, which I voted for in Genoa’s best interest, only to later learn of an unexpected development I’d been kept in the dark about. I feel betrayed and disillusioned. In soccer, we’ve gone from family-run management to shadowy business entities that make promises. I myself fell victim to promises that later turned out to be unfounded. That’s the risk we face today—profit is the primary goal. The first and last time I stepped into a luxury hotel in Milan during the transfer window, I realized I had to get out as quickly as possible. It was an environment where unlikely characters felt like they owned the world. But I’m proud to have represented Genoa, earning respect and trust in institutional circles. I believe we couldn’t have done better. I made sure the club’s voice was heard in the halls of power.”
Have you come to an explanation of why it ended this way?
“I believe the cause is a deep animosity between me and CEO Andres Blazquez, as well as mutual distrust. But he mattered and I didn’t—I accept that. I remember a dinner four years ago at Diego Della Valle’s home in Milan. He cares about me and didn’t understand why I was getting myself into trouble by accepting the presidency of Genoa. Remo Ruffini defended me because he knew I was happy. For two years, Remo helped Genoa without expecting anything in return—only my gratitude.”

What was your relationship with the fans like?
“The best moment was the banner the Gradinata Nord dedicated to me: ‘President, thank you for always being there.’ This message is simple but very powerful; they understood that I was always there for Genoa, and nothing could stop me—not even a serious cancer diagnosis in 2024 that I faced with unimaginable treatments, including cycles of chemotherapy and radiation therapy. Everyone knew this, but since December 18, 2024, no one has ever called me from Pegli. Only Mattia Bani, once he arrived in Palermo.”
Was relegation the most painful moment of your presidency?
“It was hard to accept, but then Serie B turned out to be the best period. After the match against Napoli in May 2022, I saw only two people crying: myself and Marco Rossi. But you could sense the possibility of a comeback. I felt it so strongly that I personally took responsibility for the slogan ‘Only One Year’—just one year in Serie B. I apologized to the fans, promising we’d return to Serie A right away. And that’s exactly what happened. The worst moment was Gilardino’s dismissal; he identified very strongly with me. It happened without my knowledge, and that’s when I realized my time at Genoa was over.”

Is De Rossi the right man to keep the team from relegation?
“I loved Gilardino; I appreciated him for his human qualities. I didn’t have time to get to know Vieira because, at that time, it was better for me not to be seen around. I believe De Rossi has the best qualities in his DNA to lead Genoa. The players are good guys, the foundation is solid, and I’m rooting for him: he can turn things around if, as I think, he knows how to win the players’ hearts by listening only to himself.”
How do you see Genoa’s future?
“I don’t know, but it depends on one thing alone: the enthusiasm of Genoa’s fans, who reward every effort if they sense the goal is achievable. ‘Only One Year’ is a prime example.”
And if one day they offered you the presidency again?
“I’d say that won’t happen, and I don’t want it to happen. If it did, I’d say no because I’ve also suffered a lot. I’ve experienced malice without any kind of respect. That’s not how I’d find peace in my heart. I gave it my all; it would be foolish to run again, and it wouldn’t be understood.”