
Episode Summary
Hosts
Graham Dunn, Jamie Rooney
Gus Krasonis
Guest(s)
Release Date
11 September 2025
Duration
65 min
In this episode of By Far The Greatest Team, hosts Graham Dunn and Jamie Rooney are joined by underdog King Gus Krasonic who helps tell the astonishing story of Castel di Sangro, the little Italian club that climbed from obscurity to reach Serie B in the mid-1990s.
Founded decades earlier by a village priest to bring the community together, Castel di Sangro rose through the divisions without major investment, powered instead by local pride, grit, and togetherness. Their first season in Serie B brought chaos, drama, and tragedy — from bizarre off-pitch events to incredible matches that captured the imagination of neutrals everywhere.
The tale was immortalised in Joe McGinniss’s cult classic book The Miracle of Castel di Sangro, but here Gus, Graham and Jamie revisit the footballing reality and the cultural legacy of a side whose story remains one of the most romantic in the game.
Takeaways
Castel di Sangro’s extraordinary rise to Serie B in the 1990s
Founded by a priest to unite a small Abruzzo community
A village population smaller than their stadium’s capacity
Their first Serie B season filled with drama, tragedy, and resilience
Immortalised by Joe McGinniss in The Miracle of Castel di Sangro
Castel di Sangro 1995–1998: The Miracle, the Mayhem
For a brief moment in the 1990s, Castel di Sangro became the most talked-about small town in world football. Tucked away in the mountains of Abruzzo, the club’s ascent from Italy’s amateur leagues to Serie B defied logic. With a population of barely 5,000, their ground could hold almost the entire town — and yet they faced the giants of Torino, Genoa, and Palermo.
The mastermind was Osvaldo Jaconi, a maverick coach with an unshakable belief in his players. He forged a team of cast-offs, locals, and journeymen into a unit that played with heart and intelligence. Their yellow-and-red shirts, emblazoned with the now-legendary Soviet Jeans logo, became a cult icon of 1990s football eccentricity.
But the miracle came at a cost. The fairytale was haunted by tragedy: two players killed in a car crash, financial pressures mounting, and whispers of corruption swirling as quickly as the snow around the Stadio Teofilo Patini. When American journalist Joe McGinniss arrived to chronicle their adventure, he found both wonder and disillusion — a story as human as it was heroic.
Between 1995 and 1998, Castel di Sangro stood for more than football. They represented the possibility that passion could overcome privilege, that a village could dream on the same field as cities, and that underdogs everywhere could believe — even when the dream began to unravel.
Today, their story lives on in nostalgia, literature, and legend — a reminder that football’s most extraordinary tales often bloom in the most unlikely soil.
Main Topics
Iconic Moments
Castel di Sangro’s rise through the Italian football pyramid
The miracle promotion to Serie B in 1996
The role of manager Osvaldo Jaconi
President Gabriele Gravina’s leadership (later FIGC president)
Life in Serie B: clashes with Napoli, Torino, and others
Scandals, tragedy, and the limits of the dream
Joe McGinniss’s book The Miracle of Castel di Sangro and its legacy
1995–96 Serie C1 playoff victory over Ascoli to secure promotion to Serie B
First Serie B match against Cesena in 1996
Hosting Napoli and Torino in a 7,000-seater stadium built for the fairy tale
The Joe McGinniss chronicle that immortalised the story
Notable Manager
Osvaldo Jaconi
Notable Players
Gigi Prete, Gabriele Biondi, Pietro Rezza, Pasquale Logarzo
Style of Play
3-5-2, defensive, counter-attack, compact, transitional, adaptable
Osvaldo Jaconi’s Castel di Sangro played pragmatic, adaptable football suited to survival in Italy’s second tier. Nominally a 3-5-2, their shape flexed between compact defence and energetic counters, with wing-backs pushing high when space allowed.
Built on grit and discipline rather than flair, Jaconi’s men excelled in organisation. The back three stayed narrow and rugged, supported by tireless midfielders who pressed and harried opponents to disrupt rhythm. Possession was never the priority — quick transitions were. Attacks flowed through long diagonals and opportunistic through-balls, often seeking the industrious striker pairing of Gabriele Bergossi and Ciro Berni.
Set-pieces became vital weapons. Castel di Sangro practised them obsessively, knowing every free-kick or corner could swing a game. The side’s defensive commitment was total; even forwards tracked back to crowd the box.
What they lacked in star power, they made up for in unity. Jaconi drilled into his players the belief that tactical obedience and togetherness could neutralise richer opponents. Their football was not beautiful, but it was honest — a defiant expression of small-club survival.
In the wider Italian landscape of tactical purists and elite budgets, Castel di Sangro’s scrappy, shape-shifting football became a symbol of resistance — proving that tactical intelligence and collective will could write miracles on mountain soil.


