By Mark Winter

WHEN I worked in busy press office, a wise and charming lady told me that looking after journalists and small children is much the same thing. Essentially, the role of a good press officer is to ensure that journalists cannot get into a position to hurt themselves and they should always be given the impression that they are being receiving a very special treat.

Later, when I became a journalist, I was never in any doubt as to what constituted a special treat. Essentially, the highlight of a busy week would invariably be settling down in the living room on Sunday afternoon and watching a live Serie A game on Channel Four. Stressing the enjoyment factor of, say, Atalanta v Inter to four, seven and eleven-year-old daughters was a little more problematic, but we got there in the end. Eventually, we decided that Fiorentina were our favourite team.

My fondness for the Viola came about because, on their day, which admittedly didn’t come around too often, they could be the most exciting team on the planet. For the girls, they’ve since told me that the Fiorentina experience was a bit like settling down in front of Cbeebies. They liked the purple shirts, the bribes that came with keeping quiet and the giggling that could be gleaned from the understanding they were watching a player called Rui Custard. And it was with great authority that one told another that Fiorentina and Argentina were essentially the same thing on the basis that “Batty Scooter” played for both of them. On an equally memorable occasion; “Gooooaaaaalllllllatto” echoed around a packed church as the pair of them heard a wedding service conducted in Latin, felt they recognised the lingo, and wanted to join in.

Twelve years on, two of my three girls have no interest in football. Only Rosie, the middle one, humours the old man by accompanying him to the occasional game at Dover Athletic, Leicester City, or, for preference, a big game that involves parting with large sums of money. And whilst the Viola are very much our third team, we watch them when we can when funds allow and such was the situation when I shelled out for two tickets to watch them play Bayern Munich in this year’s UEFA Cup Final at the City of Manchester Stadium.

Followers of the European game will doubtless have spotted the flaw in my cunning plan.

Still, we went along anyway and had an amazing experience as Zenit St. Petersburg beat Glasgow Rangers.

The Fiorentina fix still had to be sated, mind, hence my hastily arranged weekend away to take in the game against Reggina on October 18. I’d booked my flights before the fixture was rearranged to give the Viola an extra day’s preparation for their Champions League game in Munich. For once, matters worked out in my favour as the switch from Sunday back to Saturday enabled me to take in a bonus game in Lazio’s trip to Bologna.

Booking a ludicrously early flight out of Gatwick worked out rather well as, eight hours after leaving my home in Dover at 2am, my train was pulling into Florence following a short journey from Pisa Airport. The idea here was to give myself an extra day in Florence to do all the non-football related stuff. I wonder if anyone visits Florence once and fails to return, such is the architectural splendour of a place that even a Philistine such as I can’t fail to appreciate. It’s not a huge city hence the major sights such as the Duomo, The Ponte Vecchio, The Uffizi Gallery and the Boboli Gardens are all within five minutes walk of one another. Just don’t eat or drink in the vicinity of any of them, as slipping down the nearest side street will save you a fortune without having to skimp on quality or quantity. Florence can be a hugely expensive place to visit, but it needn’t be.

As for hotels, try and opt for something within easy reach of the centre but far enough out to be quiet. I favour the Piccolo, a friendly, reasonably-priced and comfortable family run place some 10 minutes away from the central railway station.

24 hours, much pasta, wine, ice cream and about half a stone later I’m at the Artemio Franchi Stadium thinking that a trip to see Fiorentina is a bit like going to the Rocky Horror Show. Of course, you don’t have to wear purple to one in much the same way that you don’t have to dress up for the other. Either way, you’ll feel a bit of a plum if you don’t. A game in Florence always has that element of carnival about it, but it was the ticket prices that really caught my attention. The last time I was here, the cost of my ticket would have been comparable with one purchased for any English Premiership game. Today, I shelled out less than £25 and could have got in much cheaper if I’d opted for a seat behind either goal.

From the first whistle, Reggina looked like a side that are in for a long, hard season, looking every bit like a side that are propping up the Serie A table. The height of their ambition was to go looking for a 0-0 draw and for most of the first half the Viola seemed intent on helping them find one. With one eye very much on the Champions League, Fiorentina coach Cesare Prandelli put out a starting line-up that was some way short of full strength with Mutu, Gilardino, Montolivo and Osvaldo all rested.

However, Donadel prodded and poked to ensure that Fiorentina had plenty of possession, whilst the Montenegran Jovetic – sporting one of those 80s Chris Waddle hairstyles favoured by the youth of all newly independent states – looked a class act certain to become a firm favourite. And whilst Reggina’s attack wasn’t much more than a mild reproach, the Viola weren’t much better until Giampaulo Pazzini tumbled theatrically over a challenge from keeper Campagnolo just before half-time. Referee di Schio produced a red card that looked harsh in the extreme; Pazzini tucked away the resulting penalty and it was all over from that point. Although Fiorentina continued to make hard work of it in the second half, Gilardino came on for the last 20 minutes. The club’s new hero touched the ball three times, scored twice and wrapped up a 3-0 win that Fiorentina achieved without ever needing to move out of second gear.

After sleeping like a rock for 10 hours, Sunday proved a real eye-opener as I set off for Bologna. Given that Florence is a couple of hours from so many places, I’d always intended to take in another game, probably in Serie B, but Bologna v Lazio proved something of a bonus.

In England, previous experience has taught me that Beelzebub and all his little wizards do not have the wherewithal to tempt me onto a train on a Sunday. The whole experience was totally different with TrenItalia, however, and a one-hour clean and comfortable train ride later I was in Bologna and outside the ground with nearly three hours to kill. After I’d bought myself a ticket for a little over £16 – kids were only charged at 1 Euro apiece - half that time passed pleasurably in a smashing little restaurant next door to the ground.

Like many of the stadiums in Italy, the Stadio Renato Dall’Ara has the look of a traditional, largely open-air amphitheatre with a capacity of a little under 40,000. And whilst the home end was packed and Lazio had taken up most of their allocation, the remainder of the stadium was sparsely populated and barely half-full.

Maybe newly promoted Bologna’s faithful were voting with their feet? Following an unexpected 2-1 win over Milan at the San Siro on the season’s opening day, Bologna had lost five games on the spin. They’d lost all three of their home games and hadn’t so much as scored. By contrast, Lazio went into the game as Serie A leaders. So I don’t suppose I was the only punter in the ground who was amazed by the manner in which Bologna tore the visitors apart in the game’s opening half hour.

The Rossobleu might have guessed that their fortunes were about to change when central midfielder Volpi stroked a peach of a free kick into the top left hand corner after five minutes. But it was Marco Di Vaio who really caught the eye as Lazio found the No.9‘s strength, pace and eye for goal made him just about unplayable throughout the opening session. Non-existent marking left him on his puff at the near post to head in a corner from the left before a superb individual goal made it 3-0 inside the game’s opening third. It was great stuff, and though I can’t normally settle in a stadium with a running track around the pitch, I’d forgotten all about my dislike for football played in athletics stadiums.

Lazio could only improve after the break and they did. Rocchi pulled a slightly fortunate goal back early in the second half and although they got better as the game progressed, Lazio seldom look likely to make further inroads into Bologna’s lead. It finished 3-1.

The following morning I killed a little time people watching, sitting outside the Santa Maria Basilica before my train left Florence to take me back to the airport. It was mid-October and I hadn’t needed a jacket all weekend. I reckoned that to have done the same thing in London for the weekend would have cost me an additional £200. So I’ll be back, much sooner this time, particularly now I know that both Milan and Rome are only a couple of hours away.

For now, it’s back to work with an away game on Saturday. Though I’m sure the place has its merits, Canvey Island just won’t be the same.