Berlusconi: Marco Goalo

Il Duce reflects on derbies past

Il Duce: Conqueror of Abasynnia

Not as hard as a brown derby

Gabbiadini: The new Van Basten?

In his final column for the Onion Bag, Il Duce Silvio Berlosconi can't see what's so special about the Derby d'Italia.

I have never held with this Derby of Italia between the saggy boobed old crone and those, how you say, flat track bullies of Inter.

Battered & bruised

There is only one derby and that is the Brown Derby. It is the constant battle in my bathroom as I fight to complete my early morning ablutions. It is a duel between myself and my bowels which I always win thanks to my beloved Veronica at my side. "Push my Duce," she cries "Push!" She is such a trooper that one. And I am her general.

Then there is my other Derby of my beautiful warriors of Milan versus the Inter scum. For years my iron fist has squeezed their testicles until they are the colour of those black and blue abominations they call shirts.

Veni vidi duce

But this season they have the upper hand. My multi million euro plan to return my warriors to the summit has been delayed while I win my battle with the Italian judiciary. These things were so much easier when I was emperor.

But perhaps the greatest Derby was not a derby game but a Derby player. None other than your very own Marco Gabbiadini. How I longed to see him fight alongside Van Basten and Gullit and Rijkaard after seeing him in the Anglo-Italian Cup final all those years ago.

A bit of gnocchi

I remember sending for him at the time. Three of my finest Veronian temptresses were dispatched to woo him. I personally hand-picked them for the task. They tried to seduce him with a pork and mustard fillet on a bed of gnocchi. But he rejected me claiming not to hold with this "foreign muck". Now he makes greasy breakfasts for cheap tourists in York. Philistine. But that reminds me, it is past the yard arm and the lunching hour is upon us. Veronica, where is my pesto sauce? I wish to smother myself!

Il Duce