Paddy Agnew finds the Italian captain in no mood to let this opportunity slip by
The scene is the Italian Football Federation's training centre at Coverciano, last August. Captain Fabio Cannavaro comes rushing into the bar on his way across to the dressingroom. He is late for training. As he rushes through, he notices your correspondent leaning over the laptop: "Ciao, bello," he shouts at me. "Plenty to write about this morning?"
Cannavaro (33), is nothing if not a sunny personality. His good looks go hand-in-hand with an affable, easy-going manner that has much to do with his native Naples. Given the number of obstacles in his path in recent times, that is just as well.
Right now, his name is on the lips of many. As he prepares to lead out Italy in tomorrow's World Cup final, in the process picking up his 100th cap, many commentators have already dubbed him not just the best defender, but arguably the best player of the tournament. Media attention in recent times has not always been so kind.
Just six weeks ago, his Turin home was searched by tax police looking for information relative to his 2004 transfer from Inter Milan to Juventus. Two summers ago, he made an unscheduled prime-time appearance on Italian TV with the airing of a home video he had shot on the eve of Parma's 1999 Uefa Cup final win against Olympique Marseilles - at that time, he was a Parma player.
The video showed Cannavaro on an intravenous drip, being administered "neoton", a product normally used in the treatment of patients with heart problems and one of those which featured in the infamous Juventus dope trial. The football community protested vigorously, with Palermo coach Francesco Guidolin commenting: "You see scenes like that in dressingrooms all over the world."
Whether that is true is matter for debate. What is certain is that Cannavaro protested his innocence and then went about defending himself in the best way possible, by performing at an absurdly high level for Juventus over the last two seasons.
Given the accusations and insinuations that have come his way, Cannavaro clearly is not short on the "F***-the-lot-of-yous" style motivation.
For all that, though, Cannavaro's mood last Wednesday was not so much buoyant as sopra la luna, if Italian footballers were to use such an expression. As he looked forward to the final, he recalled: "You know I was a ball boy at the Italy v Argentina semi-final in Naples in 1990 and playing in a World Cup final is something every child dreams about."
Then, too, there is that account to be settled with France. It goes back to the Euro 2000 final in Rotterdam and Italy's last-gasp failure to win a tournament that was theirs for the taking. Two years ago on the eve of the European Championship in Portugal, Cannavaro recalled for me the impact of that game: "Ah, Rotterdam. I thought you might ask about that. Yeah, of course, there's still a big sense of regret about that night. Above all because for once we didn't do what Italians are good at, we should have been a bit more canny, a bit more expert at handling the situation we were in."
Cannavaro and team-mates have no intention of making the same mistake. Prior to Tuesday night's semi-final win over Germany, Cannavaro was involved in two minor but significant incidents. First, he appeared to injure his back during the warm-up, sending the Italian camp into total panic. "Calma," he said, "it's nothing. I am playing in this one." After that, the captain gathered his troops and insisted there was to be no arguing with the referee. The message seems to have been well received.
Cannavaro's message to France is clear and succinct: "Last night was important, but Sunday will be a lot more important still. I don't want to stop now."